escaping me. Goosebumps break out over my skin at his gentle touch.
“But we should talk first,” I rasp out.
He undoes the button on my jeans before sliding down the zip. I try to stop him, but my hands have other ideas, reaching for his waist instead. “I’ve been dying to know what you’ve got to say all evening, but now I’ve got you here, alone, in my room, all I can think about is kissing you. All over.”
He picks me up by my arse and sits me down on the chest of drawers. “Wyatt, we really should talk.”
Dammit, why does my body respond to Wyatt yet won’t listen to my own demands? I moan when he drags my jeans down my legs before pulling them off, along with my pumps.
He kisses the inside of my thigh, looking up at me through his lashes. “So talk.” He kisses me again, this time higher as he spreads my knees further apart. “I’ll listen while I do this.”
“Oh God,” I moan, my head dropping back against the wall when he kisses my clit over my knickers. The warmth of his tongue floods through me and my toes curl as my blood heats, rushing through my body.
He needs to stop. I can’t let this happen again. Not when I need to tell him.
I narrow my gaze when fabric tearing echoes through the room. “You really need to stop tearing my clothes.”
He smirks, sliding me to the edge before bending back down and flicking his tongue over my sex. “You taste fucking amazing.”
A cry escapes me when he sucks my clit into his mouth, the pad of his tongue running over it.
“Oh fuck!”
He gently blows over my sex, heightening my arousal, before running his tongue through my wetness. He moves back to my clit, where he begins to make circular motions with his tongue, using enough pressure to cause my inner muscles to tighten.
God, he knows how to use his tongue.
He grips the back of my arse, picking me up with my thighs still wrapped around his neck. I scream, tensing as I grip his head. He bends, lowering me down on the soft bed before continuing his torture.
“Wyatt,” I cry out when he spreads my thighs apart to the point my muscles burn. I’m completely wide open to him, and when he latches on again, I arch, thrusting against his mouth.
I feel his fingers glide into my sex, the sound of my arousal reaching my ears. I’m wet. Really wet. And he’s lapping up my juices like a starved man.
I reach for a pillow when another cry of pleasure forces its way up my throat. I drop it over my mouth, biting into it as he adds another finger, curling them inside of me and hitting the right spot.
Fuck, I’m close already.
When I feel something small towards the back, I tense, but Wyatt leans up, his breath heaven over my sex. “Relax.”
The tip of his pinkie finger circles around the forbidden hole, and although the feeling is foreign as he pushes in slowly, it’s oddly satisfying. No one has ever touched me back there. I didn’t think I’d like it.
When I no longer protest, he grins wickedly and continues to torture me with pleasure. I drop my head back down, spreading my knees further apart as a mixture of feelings overcome me.
I have two fingers in my pussy, one in my arse, and his mouth is playing my clit like a guitar.
I can’t hold on any longer.
My toes curl, my fingers dig into the sheets beside me, and my teeth clutch the pillow like a vice as my orgasm tears through me. I scream, arching my back as my body rocks with the powerful orgasm, my entire body tensing. Sweat beads on my back and chest as I come down from it.
Wyatt continues to lap up my juices, groaning against my sex. I shake, tingles still shooting through me.
He kisses my navel before making his way up my body, grinning as he moves the pillow away. He drops a kiss on my lips, letting me taste my arousal.
He grins again, rubbing his nose along mine. “Now you’re more relaxed, let’s have this talk you want so badly.”
It’s like having a bucket of ice-cold water thrown at me, cutting into my skin like shards of glass. I can’t stop my body from locking at his words, or my hands when they push him back. I can’t tell him, not after that, and not while I’m