Page 105 of This Wild Heart

“You know what I wish?” I whispered.

Her eyes met mine, her chest rising and falling furiously, and I slid my hand up her stomach while I placed sucking kisses along the inside of her thigh. “What?” she panted. I bit down on the skin right above her knee, and she gasped.

“I wish that first night I met you, I told you that you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”

Her eyes snapped to mine.

Another kiss. Another inch closer. “I wish I’d pulled you into the dark and kissed you.”

She let out a whimpering sound, her gaze unwavering as I pushed the hand on her stomach up underneath her shirt, rolling her nipple between my fingers. When I pinched, her eyelids fluttered shut.

“Uh-uh. Eyes on me, Anya.” I wedged my shoulder between her legs. “Pretend with me, wife. Pretend I had you that night, and he never got a single fucking moment of your time.”

I licked straight up her center, a groan tearing from my chest at the heady taste of her.

Anya tossed her head back and let out a low, disbelieving moan, her back arching as I did it again, kissing her just like I had her mouth, with long licks of my tongue and sucking kisses.

Her fingers twined through my hair and fisted hard, her hips working restlessly against my face.

I pulled my mouth away, wiping my wet mouth against her thigh. “Pretend I had you first. That it was so good that you forgot his name the next day. That you were never, ever his.”

“Yes,” she moaned. “Parker, please.”

“One like this?” I asked.

She nodded frantically, and I dipped my head back down, growling at the soft, wet feel of her against my mouth.

I wanted this forever.

The thought was quick, there and gone in the next moment. It didn’t settle long enough to leave behind an impression. It fluttered in and out as her thighs trembled. I wrapped a hand around each one to hold her in place.

But it wasn’t long before it slipped back in. Because I did. I wanted to worship her as long as she’d let me. Kneel every fucking day if it meant making her feel this way.

I slid two fingers into her and curved up, placing tongue-heavy kisses just above, where it made her stomach tremble, and her thighs lock tight around my head.

She chanted my name, her hips undulating as she chased her pleasure, and the moment she broke, she let out a drawn-out moan that I’d hear in my dreams for the rest of my life.

I surged up to take her mouth in a fierce, savage kiss, and even though she was still coming down from her first orgasm, her hands shoved at the waistband of my pants, groaning at the taste of her on my mouth.

Greedy hands pushed up underneath her shirt—myfucking shirt—filling my hand with the warm, soft weight of her breast. Our tongues tangled around each other, and she pushed me back until I sat on my haunches on the floor in front of her, nail marks along my heaving chest that I didn’t even remember her leaving.

Before I could wonder what she was doing, Anya sat up and started to peel the shirt off, but I stood and stilled her hands. “Leave it on,” I demanded. “I want to see my name on you while I fuck him right out of your head.”

Her eyes flared.

“Who?” she asked with an innocent tilt of her head.

With a possessive flare of heat in my gut, I bent her backward from the force of my kiss. It was so easy to get lost in her, so easy to drown in this heat.

“What do you want?” I asked her, our lips brushing.

She only took a moment to answer, and I ghosted my fingertips over her collarbone, her chest flushed pink.

“Don’t treat me like I’m made of glass,” she said, a fearless gleam in her eye. “I won’t break.”

“I know you won’t.” A dozen ideas screamed through my head, each better and filthier than the last. If I had a hundred nights, a thousand nights, it wouldn’t be enough.

Anya leaned in and sucked on my bottom lip. Her gaze was relentless, and I felt a ragged tear in my chest at the thought that I might not have it someday.

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