Page 120 of Wilde's End
CHAPTER
FORTY-THREE
HUDSON
Inever in a million years thought Wilde would be here, in my bed, thick, hairy thighs straddling my waist and steely gray eyes locked on me, like it’s giving him strength.
“You don’t have to,” I remind him, gently holding his hips. My dick is so fucking hard, enticingly close to his hole, and I want to sink inside him almost more than anything. But if he’s not into this, I’d prefer he said that.
Wilde grunts and reaches back for my dick. Even through the condom, his grip makes me tremble, and it takes all my damn power to hold still as he lines me up. “I know I don’t,” he says petulantly before pressing down onto me.
It’s torture, all that initial weight before my aching tip breaches him. Wilde’s slow, giving himself all the time he needs, but little by little, his ass swallows me, sucking me into that gloriously tight warmth. I keep my damn ass planted on the bed so that I don’t give in to the urge to thrust into him. It’ll happen. It’s coming. I only need to be patient, dammit.
Every inch he takes is satisfying that gut-deep lust, and by the time he settles over me, I’m in heaven.
“Fuck, you feel good,” I say, voice deeper and huskier than I mean it to be. Not that anyone could blame me. My cock is buried inside my tough, mysterious mountain man, and he’s looking at me like there’s nowhere else he wants to be. Wilde might not be great with words, but I think I could learn to live with that if he always looks at me the way he is right now.
He shifts, grinding my cock inside him, and my eyes almost rock back in my skull. There’s nothing like having Wilde wrapped around me, his large, solid body towering over me, and that magnificent cock arching up toward his belly button, swollen and needy for more.
I release him with one hand and stroke his shaft gently.
“You good?”
“So good.” He rocks back onto me again.
I’m so fucking horny, and he has to be aware of how turned on I am. His gaze is burning into me, filling me with all the attention I crave, and with the way my skin is prickling all over, I’ve never felt this alive.
Wilde lifts and lowers himself again, the tentative movements giving me exactly what I need to stay on edge. He’s like a coiled animal of pure muscle, and the smoother and faster he moves, the closer I get to losing control.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive it. His ass is squeezing around me, and I love the feel of his cock passing through my fist, but I’m greedy. It’s not enough. I want to touch him all over. To feel his hard pecs, and enjoy his hairy torso, and kiss and bite those lips that are finally visible beyond the beard.
His gray eyes shine down at me, full of lust and something deeper, and my free hand rests against his outer thigh.
“You’re doing so good.”
His lips twitch like he catches himself before he can laugh. “Not a hardship on my end, that’s for sure.”
Thank fuck he’s enjoying it too. He sets a pace above me, and when I’m sure he’s comfortable, I join in too. Meeting his movements to grind up into him, loving the way my cock feels as it sinks into his body over and over and over.
All that towering strength, the way his thigh muscles move as he lifts up and down, how easily he’s rocking back onto me, it has my mind twisted up into the most overstimulating high I’ve ever experienced.
He’s here. After twenty-four hours of this crushing sadness, his presence is stitching my shattered heart back together one thread at a time. I can’t stop touching him, like the realer this feels, the more I’ll believe it.
Every scar on his body, that deep one through his eye, knowing the source is like this secret key I have to Wilde that no one else gets to see. What he’s been through, what he’s lost … it makes so much sense that he’d shut down. Hide away. Focus on his people and never himself, but I refuse to let him keep doing that.
He’s so passionate, so faithful, and so deserving of having someone on his side. My thumb circles his tip as I jerk him off, and I’m rewarded with a full-body shudder. But it’s not enough. I need him closer. Need him wrapped around me.
I roll us so Wilde’s back hits the mattress, and I press back inside him again. My face hovers inches above his, and before I second-guess kissing him, Wilde’s fingers are in my hair, tugging my mouth down to his.
I groan deeply into the kiss, working my thrusts harder. His knees come up on either side of my hips, and his free hand grabs my ass, digging bruises into the skin. We move together, and I’ve never been this turned on, never sunk this deeply into the momentduring sex. Normally, I’m too focused on making sure it looks good and half-detached as Sutton rails me and takes what he needs.
With Wilde, I’m finally understanding what Kennedy talks about when he calls it making love.
We might not be in love, not yet at least, but this building emotion is one I never want to let get away.
Wilde’s panting heavily as he kisses along my jaw, grip on my hair tight, eyes struggling to stay open as I pound into him like I’m possessed. The flush that creeps from my toes to my scalp makes my bedroom a hundred degrees hotter, and the sweat building between our bodies only turns me on more.
There’s no way that we could resist this forever. No way there’s a future where we don’t share this again. I need him, and I’m scared to need him, but it helps knowing he feels the same.
