Page 209 of Wild Then Wed
“I’m not gonna last long like this.”
A smirk curls her mouth. “Then tell me what you want me to do. Exactly. Specifically.”
“I want your mouth,” I say, my voice low and ragged. “I want to watch you fit my cock in your mouth and know you like it. I want you to ruin me a little.”
Her smile grows wickedly, pressing a kiss to my hip bone. “Now that,” she whispers, “I can do.”
And then her mouth is on me.
Fuck.
That’s the only word my brain can manage right now, the only coherent thought as her mouth wraps around me, hot and wet and perfect. I moan, my fingers tangling in her hair, not pushing, just holding on becauseChrist—the way her lips stretch around me is enough to make me lose it.
She pulls back slowly, her tongue flattening on the underside of my cock, dragging up in one long, torturous lick. I jerk my hips forward again, craving more. She knows exactly what she’s doing. Her tongue swirls around the tip, teasing, before she dives back down, taking me deeper this time.
“God, just like that,” I grit out, watching her through heavy-lidded eyes. “Look at you—you’re so fucking good at this.”
She moans around me, the vibration shooting straight to my spine, and I curse again. Her fingers twist at the base, her thumb pressing just under the head where I’m most sensitive, and I swear, my knees almost give out completely.
“Yeah, baby, just like that,” I pant. “Take me deeper. Let me fuck that pretty mouth.”
And she does. She sets a rhythm, me thrusting into her mouth, her taking more and more of me each time, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks. I can feel the back of her throat, tight and warm, and when I hit a certain spot, she gags. Instinct makes me pull back, but she shakes her head, her eyes locked on mine, and does it again—fuck—damn near swallowing me whole. Her eyes water, tears clinging to her lashes, but she doesn’t stop.
“You look so fucking sexy like this,” I pant, my grip tightening in her hair. “Taking me so deep, choking on my cock.”
She moans again and this time I can’t hold back the jerk of my hips. She lets me, her throat relaxing just enough to take it, her tongue working me on every pull back.
There’s something about this version of her that undoes me. The way she takes control like it’s always been hers to have. Confident, focused, not a hint of hesitation in her—like she already knows how thoroughly gone I am for her and she’s just making good on it.
She’s fucking incredible.
I’m close, and she knows it. Her free hand—the one not working my cock—slides lower, cupping my balls with just the right pressure, rolling them between her fingers like she’s testing their weight. Then her fingers tighten, just a little, just enough to make my breath hitch, and I swear to God, I see stars.
“Wren, I’m gonna come,” I warn, panting. “Do you want it? Do you want me to fill you up?”
She doesn’t answer with words—just takes me all the way down again, her nose pressed against me. She speeds up, her lips slick and tight around me, her hand moving in time with her mouth and that’s it. That’s all it takes.
Pleasure explodes, white-hot and relentless, and I groan her name as I spill down her throat. She swallows every drop, her lips still moving, her tongue still working me through it until I’m shuddering, gasping, ruined.
When I’m finished, she pulls off slowly, her lips swollen and glistening, and looks up at me with a smug little smirk that makes me want to drag her up and kiss her senseless.
“Fuck,” I breathe, still trying to catch my breath. “That was…fuck.”
She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes still gleaming, a breathless laugh escaping her. “Yeah?”
I don’t even think—just grab her wrist and pull her up into me, into a kiss that’s messy and deep and far from polite. My hands frame her face, cradle the curve of her neck, thumbs pressing into her jaw like I need her closer than close. I can still taste myself on her, but I don’t care. I want to drown in her mouth, in the way she just undid me, in the way I want her again already.
I’m thinking about the bed. About her. About everything I want to do to her.
But then she pulls back, abrupt and serious, her breath hitching like she’s gearing up for something. “I can’t give you kids, Sawyer.”
The words hit me like a slap I wasn’t expecting. I blink at her, heart still hammering, brain trying to catch up. “I know?”
It comes out more like a question than I mean it to. Because I do. Idoknow that. So why does it feel like she’s just told me something brand new?
She presses her lips together, and then her voice drops. “No, I mean…in the future. If we ever get that far. If we decide to actually build something real—I can’t give you kids. And I don’t want you to look at me ten years from now and hate me for it. I don’t want to be the woman you settled for.”
She’s nervous. I can hear it in the speed of her words, the way her hands fidget between us. It’s her tell.
