Page 208 of Wild Then Wed
“I’m just glad you came with me,” I say quietly as I quickly wash my hands and dry them.
She shoots me a look that’s teasing but warm, like she’s trying not to smile. “You mean you’re glad your wife didn’t bail on you before you got your fancy vet Oscar?”
“Something like that,” I say, nudging her hip with mine as I hang up the hand towel.
She turns back to the mirror, muttering something under her breath as she tugs at the zipper near the curve of her spine. It’s stuck halfway down, caught on a thread or a fold of fabric, and she lets out this quiet, frustrated sigh that immediately pulls my attention.
“Let me help,” I say, stepping in behind her.
She lifts her hair without a word, fingers gathering it in one hand. My eyes follow the slope of her neck down to the bare stretch of skin between her shoulder blades.
Her back is all lean muscle and soft skin, a map I know by touch now. My gaze dips lower, to the two dimples just above her hips. I rest one hand on her waist, the other carefully working the zipper down. It gives after a few tries, the fabric parting slowly, revealing the delicate line of her thong—ivory lace, thin at the waistband, disappearing between the curve of her ass.
Fuck.
I drag the zipper the rest of the way down, slower than I need to. My fingers linger, just for a second, before I let go.
She turns around, eyebrows lifted, lips curled into something smug and knowing.
“Maybe I should reward you for tonight,” she says, her hands sliding over my bare chest as she starts nudging me backward, one step at a time.
My smile pulls wider. “Yeah?”
She nods, eyes on mine. “You’ve been such a good boy.”
And then her dress slips off her shoulders, pooling around her ankles, slow and graceful, and all I can do is look at her—really look at her—and wonder how the hell I got here. How I got her.
I reach for her, fingers at her waist, and kiss her long and deep. She leans into it, hands curling against my chest. Her skin’s warm under my palms, her body soft and strong and pressed right up against mine.
I pull back just enough to whisper against her mouth. “I’ll never say no to you, Wren.”
Her mouth curves against mine, slow and wicked. “Good,” she murmurs, and then her lips are on my neck, hot and open, her tongue dragging over my pulse point like she’s savoring the way it jumps for her.Fuck.My hands tighten on her waist, fingers digging in just enough to feel the give of her skin, the flex of muscle beneath.
Her hands slide down my chest, fingertips skimming over my abdomen, leaving fire in their wake. When she reaches the hem of my sweats, she doesn’t hesitate—just slips her fingers beneath the fabric, nails scraping lightly against my hips and thighs before her hand dips lower, sliding into my briefs. I hiss through my teeth as her fingers wrap around me, already hard, already aching for her.
“Fuck me,” I mutter, tipping my head back.
She laughs, low and throaty, her breath hot against my throat. “You’re so hard already,” she murmurs, swiping her thumb over the head of my cock, spreading the wetness there. “Is this is all for me?”
I groan, my hips jerking into her hand. “You know it’s all for you.”
She strokes me once, twice, her grip tight enough to make my knees threaten to buckle. Fuck, if she keeps it up, Iwillblack out.Every nerve in my body is lit up, hyper-aware of her—the way her teeth graze my collarbone, the way her fingers move against my skin.
I want to flip her onto the bed and sink into her, lose myself inside of her—but the way she’s touching me, the way she’s looking at me, makes it clear she’s not handing over control anytime soon. And hell if I’ll be the one to take it from her.
My sweats slide down my hips, pooling at my feet, and then her mouth is on me again—not where I want it, not yet, but close. Her tongue flicks over my nipple, teasing, before she trails lower, kissing down my stomach, her hands pushing my briefs down my thighs. I step out of them, kicking them aside, and then she’s on her knees in front of me, looking up through those dark long lashes, her blue eyes burning.
“Shit,” I breathe, my fingers tangling in her hair.
She doesn’t say anything. Just smiles, slow and sinful, before she leans in and licks a stripe up the length of me, her tongue flat and hot. My grip tightens, my hips twitching forward, but she holds me still with one hand on my thigh, her nails biting in just to remind me she’s still in charge here.
My fingers twist tighter in her hair, tugging just enough to make her gasp, and the sound goes straight to my dick.
Then she kisses the tip, her tongue flicking over the slit, licking up the wetness there. I hiss through my teeth, hips jerking, but she pins me down again with that same goddamn hand on my thigh.
“Wren—” I croak out, my breath coming hard through my nose.
She blinks up at me, lashes fluttering, feigning innocence. “Yes?”
