Page 66 of Wilder at Heart
‘Fuck!’ he yells. ‘Fuck. Oh my God. You’re—fuck.Yes, baby.Yes. Jesus.’
As he stills, his head drops forward with exhaustion and triumph and hopefully satisfaction, but he grins and looks at me through his eyelashes.
‘You little beauty. You amazing, sexy-as-fuck little beauty.’
‘That was incredible,’ I whisper, staring at him through the haze of cartoon stars and birds circling round my head right now. My breath is ragged. I don’t know what the fuck just went down, and I’m pretty sure I can’t take credit for any of it. All I did was just lie there and let Theo Montague dole out orgasms.
He waggles his finger at me. ‘Don’t move.’
I flinch as he eases himself out of me and trots into the bathroom. He’s back a minute later, pulling the pillows out from under my bum and dragging me up the bed to a dry patch.
I lie in the crook of his arm, my nose pressed to the hairs on his chest, which is exactly where it wants to be. I need to pull some IQ points from somewhere. I need to—focus. I struggle up onto one arm and gaze down at him. At that face on the pillow. That lazy smile, the one that saysI’m fucked(in the best way).
‘I should—um.’ I point in the direction of the main hotel. I’m sure there’s something I should be doing, but my brain isn’t playing ball.
‘Nice try, gorgeous.’ He pulls me down and into his arms, throwing a heavy, hairy leg over me for good measure. ‘Now we sleep. Then we go again.’
The outrageous concept ofagainwhirrs around in my head as I lose consciousness, my face pressed between Theo’s pecs.
CHAPTER 26
Theo
If Nora Wilder thinks I’m letting her out of my sight for even a second today, she’s a lot less smart than I thought. Because that stuff, in our suite, was so far off the orgasm charts that I’m amazed I’m functioning. The first time, I came so hard, my vision went black. The second time was slower, lazier, but hot as fuck. For me, anyway.
From the second she threw that towel at me, I was a goner. I can’t believe any of it just happened.
Thatfuck melook in her eyes when she saidI give up.
My first glimpse when I untied that robe and saw her body.
The memory of her, sitting on that bench, legs spread just for me, beautiful pussy waiting, letting me hose her down. Get her off with the spray. Her head thrown back. It was the fantasy I wasn’t smart enough to dream up before. But it’s my new favourite fantasy.
Thetasteof her when I finally got to lick her. To suck her.
And then, the moment that blew it all away: shooting my load inside her while she writhed and shuddered and cried out right there in front of me.
I knew it.
I fucking knew she was wilder at heart than she’d ever let anyone believe.
Than she’d ever let herself believe.
But I had no clue she’d be that hungry. Needy. And so bloody responsive. Allowing me to play her body like that. To feast on it. To coax three orgasms out of her.
So, no. Nora Wilder does not get to move today.
Because I’m addicted.
At least I’m not the only one acting like I’ve been clubbed over the head. We’re both grinning like idiots when we finally surface. When we make it to breakfast, the communal table is already full. Even Margot and Stephen beat us to it, though the hangdog look on my brother’s face as he shovels croissants and cold meats into his mouth tells me he won’t be the life and soul today.
I slap him on the shoulder as we round the table. ‘Happy with your life choices, mate?’
‘Fuck off, you smug twat,’ he mutters as he grabs his cup of coffee.
I’m starving, and massively dehydrated. A run and two rounds of sex will do that for you. The shady terrace where we’re having breakfast smells like amazing: that unmistakable French smell of coffee and pastries and flowers and soil and skinny French cigarettes.
I pull out a chair for Nora and sink down into mine, scooting it as close to hers as possible, wrapping my arm around her and grazing her temple with my lips as she sinks lazily against me, her hand caressing my thigh. I can’t get enough of her smell. Her skin. When I look up, Miles is staring at me weirdly.
