Page 49 of First Verse

He climbs to his feet, his grin lighting up his eyes. Warm hands slip around my back, tugging me against his front. His nose nuzzles mine.

“Go ahead and laugh. We both know you’d be just as big of a mess if I hadn’t licked it all up.”

My already flushed skin burns. He chuckles and gives me a brief, wicked kiss, then moves to the shower and turns it back on. His shoes come off. Then his socks and shirt. A belt buckle clanks. Jeans and boxer briefs hit the floor. I ogle his perfect ass and muscled back as he steps into the tub and pulls the glass door closed.

His head tilts back. Water cascades over his face, misting above his open mouth, running down his chest and rippling abs to his half-hard cock.

“If you’re going to stare, you might as well do it from in here.”

My eyes flash up to his playful smile.

Am I dreaming?

I almost say it out loud. Maybe Wilder senses the words because he says, “This is really happening, Evangeline. You and me. Come on.”

He opens the shower door. Steam billows out, stirring air and making me shiver.

My feet carry me toward him.

Like they always do.

* * *

The remainsof a pizza sit on my kitchen table, half-eaten. We each managed a slice and a half before gravity forced a collision of our mouths.

We’re on the couch now. I rock in his lap, the position both torturous and exquisite, his cock so deep inside me it passes the line of intimacy into possession.

Making the moment even more intense is the fact he won’t let me break eye contact. His hands frame my face, fingers in my hair, gentle pressure holding me still or adjusting my head when I try to look away. Between consuming kisses, his freckled eyes stay on mine, penetrating me as deeply as his body.

I’ve never felt so safe and threatened at the same time. He’s familiar and new. A fantasy I’m not completely convinced has become real. Our history melts around us, viscous and powerful as it reshapes everything I know about my own heart.

There are no clothes between us. No condom, either. He didn’t bring any and Lily stole the last of mine a few weeks ago. When Wilder and I surfaced from lust long enough to realize what was missing, it was already too late. At least for me. He tried to stop me from sliding down his length, but my rational brain was offline. The second my body took an inch of him, his brain likewise ejected reason.

I shift from grinding to lifting slowly and dropping back down. Every time his piercing hits a spot inside me, scorching heat flashes through my entire body.

“Holy fuck,” he groans, neck arching and eyes closing. “Slow down, baby, or I’m not going to last.”

My heart thuds at the endearment. I don’t slow down. The sight of him beneath me, all flushed skin and clenched muscles, his abs flexing as he struggles not to take control, makes me feel like a goddess.

“Does it feel good?” I ask breathlessly.

“Better than anything.”

His hands sink further into my drying hair. Calluses snag on strands, igniting pinpricks of sensation that make me pant harder. He pulls my head back, bowing my spine, and his tongue laves my nipples.

I whimper and move even faster.

“You’re so wet. Hot. Soft.” He yanks my face back down, his tongue diving between my lips. “I’m so fucking glad you’re the first person I’ve felt without a rubber. Worth. The. Wait.” He punctures the words with bites on my lips.

“Same,” I whisper. “This first is yours.”

His cock throbs inside me, turning to steel. A hiss whistles through his clenched teeth. “I’m super close.” He tries to lift me off him, but I sit fast and clamp my knees on his hips.

His eyes widen with panic. “Evangeline?—”

“I’m on the pill. Fill me up, Wilder.”

His eyes darken, features tightening. Releasing my hair, one arm snakes around my back. He presses his other thumb to my clit.

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