Page 57 of Caught Up In You

“I’m going to fuck you, Wyatt,” I say, dipping my thumb just inside her. “But I’m not about to neglect you.”

I hover above her, one hand pressed into the mattress just beside her cheek. Then I lower to capture her mouth, parting her lips. She tangles her tongue with mine, like a more intimate version of the rapid-fire banter we’ve been trading all thesemonths. I’m so lost in the kiss that when the swollen head of my cock brushes against her warm, wet entrance, I gasp.

“Fuck, Wyatt, I’ve wanted you for so long.” I’m practically trembling. She lifts her hips, tilting into me so I slide across her clit. “I just want to give youeverything.”

Wyatt stills. She reaches up and grabs my chin between her thumb and forefinger, angling my face sharply to meet her gaze.

“Owen,” she says. Her voice is stern, but there’s the tiniest quiver there. Just the smallest hitch. I hold my breath, waiting to hear what she wants from me. Her brow is knitted, but a smile unfurls across her face. “Fuck me like I’m not your girlfriend.”

Her tone, her eyes, the way her thighs grip my hips as I hover over her—it snaps every last bit of my control. When she reaches down and wraps her hand around my cock, guiding me, I lock on to her eyes and press my hips forward, sinking into her in one smooth, tight glide.

Wyatt cries out, head thrown back as she wraps her legs around my waist and pulls me closer, deeper. Her lips are parted and ruby red, and a flush climbs her chest, painting her tattoos like watercolor.

I want to kiss her so bad I can taste it. Can tasteher. The flavor of Wyatt Hart will probably never leave my mouth.

But that’s not what she wants.

And I’m in the giving-Wyatt-Hart-what-she-wants business.

So I pull back and snap my hips, rolling at the base of her so her clit hums along my pelvis.

“Oh my god,” she moans, urging me on with her ankles locked at my lower back. “Please, just like that.”

I thrust and roll, thrust and roll, my eyes roaming her body. Part of me is terrified that despite our agreement, she’s never going to let me see her like this again. That this will be my only chance to watch the column of her neck as she tips her chin up in ecstasy. That I won’t get another opportunity to see how hernipple rings glint in the lamplight, shimmering each time I push into her. That I’ll never again get see the lavender streaks in her curls splayed out on my bedsheets. She is the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen, and it’s taking every fiber of control in my body to keep from spilling inside her before she comes.

I lower down to one elbow so I can tug on her nipple rings with my lips, the other hand drifting down the curve of her petite breast, the dip of her belly, and the contour of her hip, before playing across her body to find her clit. I fuck her hard, just like she wants, but I stroke the delicate bundle of nerves softly, delicately, as if I can tell her how I feel about her with my touch.

I won’t fuck her like she’s my girlfriend, but she’ll come like she is.

Her breath is growing ragged, her body writhing as these incredible little moans pour out of her.

Her orgasm is close. I can feel it from the way her nails dig into my skin and the fluttering of her inner muscles around my cock. And just as I can feel that she’s on the brink of coming apart, her lips drop open and her eyes drift shut.

I raise myself onto my palm so I can watch the way her body reacts, my other hand still working her clit. I’m desperate to see her, for her to let me watch. But even though I want to beg her to open her eyes, to look at me, I let her have this small bit of distance. As much as I want her to open herself to me, I know she needs this one wall.

I told her I’d take her however she was willing to give herself to me, and I meant it.

So I watch her come apart, her eyes closed, as I guide her through the explosive peak of her orgasm. She lets out a soft scream, her lips forming my name as she shudders through her release.

And when she’s finally undone, her hands clenched around my forearms, chest heaving,thenher eyes flutter open. Her gaze meets mine, her emerald eyes alight.

She holds me with those eyes.

And that’s the moment I follow her over the edge.

CHAPTER 21

SUNDAY, APRIL 30 AT 7:07 AM

Owen

Wyatt?

Wyatt

Yes?

Owen

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