Page 175 of Wild Then Wed
One hand stays on my ass while the other twists the dial even more, the steam beginning to rise and curl and twist. His lips graze my jaw, then lower to my neck, and the rough drag of his stubble against my skin sends a shiver curling down my spine. My blood hums, my heart stumbles, and for once I don’t try to shrink or disappear.
His arm tightens around me, and I let myself sink into it—into him. Because this is what I want. Not to be rescued, not to be put back together. Not to be changed or fixed. Just to be held. And somehow, Sawyer does that without asking me to be anything but exactly who I am. He sees all the parts I’ve learned to hide, all the places I’ve second-guessed—and he chooses to stay.
With him, every inch of me is alive.
Sawyer carries us into the shower without missing a beat, like this has been inevitable from the beginning. My legs are still locked around his waist and I barely register the sound of theglass door closing before my back hits the tile. It’s cold enough to make me gasp—but the sound disappears into his mouth, his lips already on mine again. Hot. Desperate. Wet. The kind of kiss you never come back from.
Water pours down around us, soaking my hair, sliding down my spine, but all I feel is him. His hand planted on the wall beside my head. The other cupping the underside of my thigh, keeping me wrapped around him like he can’t bear the idea of me letting go.
My hips move on instinct, grinding down on the hard length of him through his swim trunks, and I swear I hear him curse under his breath.
Everything’s a little fuzzy—steam curling at the corners of the shower, his mouth pulling at mine like he’s starving, the slick sound of our bodies moving together, water rushing around our skin.
I don’t even realize what he’s doing with his hands until the strings of my bottoms come loose, sliding down my legs and falling to the floor with a soft splash. And still—his mouth doesn’t leave mine.
We can’t stop kissing. Not even for a second.
His tongue moves against mine like he has all the time in the world. It’s as if he’s determined to unravel me with nothing but the slow slide of his mouth. And God, it’s working. I feel it everywhere. I press myself closer, my hips rocking instinctively. His hand that was braced beside my head shifts, trailing down my rib cage, over the curve of my hips, his hands warm and possessive.
Then one finger slides through my slick center, slow and sure, parting me with a stroke so deliberate I forget how to breathe. He circles my clit once, then again, and my head falls back against the tile with a quiet thud.
His teeth find the delicate skin of my neck—a sharp, delicious bite that makes me gasp. But before the sting can settle, he’s soothing it with the broad, wet flat of his tongue. The rough scrape of his stubble against my throat sends chills all over my body, my fingers tightening in his hair as my breath comes in shallow, uneven pants.
And then—
Oh God.
One finger slides into me, slow and relentless, the stretch so perfect it steals the air from my lungs. He curls it and my hips jerk forward, quietly asking for more. Then he slides another finger inside while his thumb circles over my clit in circles. My body is strung as tight as a bowstring, every nerve ending lighting up, every thought obliterated except forhim—the way his fingers work me open, the way his thumb teases me with a maddening precision.
His voice is a gravelly murmur at the base of my throat. “Is all of this for me, Wren?”
I can’t find words, not even one. So I nod.
It’s all I can give him right now. It’s also the truth.
He sets me down gently, and I whimper at the loss of him—the heat, the pressure, the way our bodies fit so perfectly together. But then his mouth is back on me, trailing kisses over my collarbone, down to the swell of my breast, lower still. His tongue follows, warm and reverent, his hands anchoring me at my hips like he knows I might come apart.
And then I freeze.
Every muscle in my body locks up as I realize where he’s going.
He feels it immediately and looks up at me with brows furrowed and soft eyes. “Hey,” he says, voice gentler now. “You okay?”
I nod too fast, my cheeks already heating. “Yeah. I’m just…” My voice thins. “I’ve never done that before.”
He tilts his head a little, confused. “Done what?”
God. I really don’t want to say it. It sounds so stupid out loud. I kind of wish the water were louder—enough to drown me out. But I say it anyway, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Had someone…well, you know. Dothatdownthere.”
I sound like a pathetic little girl.
Sawyer goes still. His brows lift, just a little. “I thought you had a boyfriend?”
I nod again, my throat tight. My heart is pounding so hard I’m almost certain he can feel it—right there, pressed against his chest.
He blinks. “And he never…?”
