Page 7 of The Rejected Wife

"Oh, my God." She digs her fingers into my hair and tugs. The pinpricks of sensation travel down my spine, and I almost come. I have to stop and command myself to get control. I’m going to pleasure this woman. I’m going to take care of this goddess. I’m going to make sure this gorgeous creature has the kind of experience where she sees heaven.

"Tyler," she moans, and my name from her lips is a different kind of torture. Every part of me insists she belongs to me. That primal part of me surges to the fore. I ease her panties down her thighs, then lick up the seam of her pussy. She shudders. I swipe my tongue up her pussy lips, and she quivers. I stab my tongue inside her slit, and her entire body jolts.

"Tyler," she groans my name again, and it’s like a clarion call.

I begin to eat her out in earnest—licking, sucking, circling the nub of her clit with my tongue, then using my fingers to play with her pussy. She whimpers and whines, and tries to pull away, but I don’t let her. With one hand on her hip, I hold her in place and continue to urge her up the peak toward her climax.

Sweat breaks out on my brow and more trickles down my spine, but I don’t let up. I glance up to find her eyes shut. Her chest rises and falls. A flush colors her cheekbones. She’s let go of my hair and now her fingers grip the edge of the table. The skin across her knuckles stretches tight. I lick into her weeping slit, and when I finally close my teeth around that swollen bud between her lower lips and tug, she explodes.

A long, low cry is drawn from her. Her back curves. She squeezes her thighs around my face and comes. Her climax goes on and on. Watching the most beautiful woman in the world come is the most incredible sight I have ever seen. I continue to lick the moisture that trickles from her. And when she finally slumps, I rise up, plant my hands on either side of her, and close my mouth over hers.

I kiss her deeply, sliding my tongue over hers, and it’s sweet and life-affirming and turns my heart into an instrument that could shatter any moment. When I finally pull away, I survey her flushed features with satisfaction.

She raises her eyelids and looks into my eyes with a dazed expression. "Wow!" She swallows. "That was—" She shakes her head. "Don’t know if I have the words to describe it."

I kiss her tenderly, then straighten and put her clothes to rights. I help her to her feet, twine my fingers with hers and bring her hand to my mouth. I kiss the back of her knuckles.

Her lips are swollen. Her skirt is creased. She looks like a woman who’s just had an orgasm. One I was responsible for.I did this. I made her come.She stares at me breathless, dazed. Like I shattered something in her and rebuilt it sweeter. Like she can’t quite believe what just happened. That look? I’ll be chasing it for the rest of my life.

I can’t walk away from her. Not now. There’s something between us—undeniable, electric. I’ve never felt this with anyone. Not like this. I can’t risk losing it before I even understand what it is. I don’t want distance. I want her—close, constant, mine.

I need more—of her voice, her mind, the way she looks at me like she sees past everything I pretend to be. I know how she tastes, but now I want to know the rest. Every breath, every silence, every secret. The things she’s never told anyone—I want to be the one she lets in. And to do that, I must keep her close. With me.

She opens her mouth to speak, but I place my finger over her lips. "Will you spend the night with me?"

5

Priscilla

"You want me to spendthe nightwith you?" I cough.

Instantly, he reaches over and pats my back. "You okay?"

A shiver squeezes my spine at his touch, but I manage to nod.

He helps me off the table and back to ours. He pulls out my seat, makes sure I’m comfortable. A true gentleman. Completely unlike the hungry man who’d feasted between my legs.

He drops into his chair and slides the glass with water in my direction. I take a sip, more for something to do than thirst, then set it down gently. My fingers drift to the table setting. I adjust the cutlery, nudge the sugar bowl a few millimeters to the right. Small movements. A quiet attempt at control in a moment that feels anything but.

It’s a delaying tactic, but that’s okay. I need to figure out how I’m going to answer him. Because…Yes, I want to spend more time with him. Yes, I want to get to know him better.But also, no way, am I going to spend the night with a man I just met. Wouldn’t that send out a signal that I’m easy?You let him go down on you. That ship has sailed.

As if he can read my thoughts, he holds up his hands. "I should qualify that I want to spend the night with you… Getting to really know one another. I want to know all about you."

I raise my gaze to his and find humor twinkling in his.

"You want to spend the time… Talking?" I scrunch up my eyebrows.

He must notice my confusion, for he chuckles. "You’d rather we not get to know each other before we sleep together?"

“That’s not what I meant.” I toss my head. “Only—” I form my words carefully. “Only, I thought someone likeyouwouldn’t be interested in…you know—” I hesitate.

“Go on,” he says slowly.

“—Oh, in getting to know someone before you sleep with them.” Even as I hear my words, I know I’m making a sweeping judgment of this man’s character, but now it’s too late to take it back.

“Hmm.” He drags his thumb under that pouty lower lip, the one I want to dig my teeth into and suck on.Focus, Priscilla!

“Firstly, you’re not ‘anyone,’” he murmurs in that deep and rough-edged voice like velvet over grit.

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