So I did the only thing I could think of. I slammed my cock into him and latched my mouth onto his, swallowing his scream and pressing his body deep down into the mattress.
Chapter 25
Nico
As much as I wanted to figure out what in the hell was developing between the two of us, all I could feel in that moment was West’s glorious fucking cock sliding in and out of my body. My brain short-circuited when the head of his dick stroked over my prostate, and I almost swallowed my tongue.
Okay, I almost swallowed his tongue. Same difference.
He pummeled into me so rhythmically I couldn’t think or feel or reciprocate. I clutched his legs where they knelt on the bed beside my hips, and I could feel the muscles moving with every thrust into me. God, his legs were amazing. His entire body was amazing.
I could smell the sleepy scent of him and taste the salty tang of his skin. My fingers could feel the rough hair on his legs, and I could hear his deep rumble of pleasure as I tightened my body around him. Once I opened my eyes to watch him, I saw his beautiful face staring down at me again with that look.
The look that told me I was something special. Something wonderful and unique, precious and rare. It was unlike anything I’d ever known before, and it scared the fucking piss out of me.
Had I managed to control my body, I might have lost my erection out of sheer stark terror. But I didn’t. Weston Wilde owned my body in that moment, and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do to order it to stand down. Every cell was lit up, every muscle was contracting in anticipation, and my cock was jackknifing against my body in preparation for coating the ceiling with my release.
“Oh god, oh god,” I blurted as West shifted so he could peg my spot again and again. “Oh god,” I choked out one more time.
“Fuck, Nico. Jesus,” West groaned before sucking a mark hard into my neck. “You’re going to make me come. Fuck.”
His voice cracked on that last curse, and that was all it took for me to explode. My hands were still on his skin, but my cock didn’t seem to notice or give a shit.
The tingles along my spine seemed to shrink to nothing before suddenly bursting out in a giant explosion that shook through me from head to foot. I cried out his name as I arched into my release and felt his mouth pressing soft kisses all over my face as his hands cupped the back of my head.
West’s hips thrust two more times before they wound up pressed so tightly against me his cock felt like it was in my throat as it twitched out his own release.
His voice was in my ear within moments of his climax. He whispered sweet words about how amazing my body was, how beautiful I was, how lucky he was to be with me in that moment. Even though I knew they were stupid postorgasm words, I felt them hit my heart like traitorous Cupid arrows.
I lifted my hands from his legs to his head and ran my fingers through his thick, blond locks. Our chests were glued together with sweat and semen. Our breathing was still rapid and uneven. But my heart was steady and my mind was calm.
West’s body was curled on top of mine, his face pressed into my neck and his softening cock still inside me. The way we lay together was heavy, sticky, and uncomfortable, but I would have paid any amount of money for him to stay like that as long as possible.
I swiveled my head to kiss whatever part of him my lips could reach. It turned out to be a lock of hair stuck to his forehead. “Take a shower with me after this?” I asked.
He lifted his head with a small grin. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
After an extremely handsy shower, we emerged clean if not completely well rested. Pippa was awake, so I grabbed her and changed her, emerging to the kitchen to discover West standing there holding the bottle ready. I let out a chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“I’m just thinking about all the women in the world who would pay big money to be in my shoes right now. Hot, muscled doctor in his underwear fixing a bottle for their baby? Jesus Christ. It’s like every woman’s wet dream. Look at you.”
He turned and flexed his muscles like he was modeling for a calendar. “Does this make it studlier?” he asked.
“No.” I laughed. “It makes you dorkier. Gimme that bottle.”
West handed me the bottle before turning back to the coffee maker. He began singing in a teasing voice. “He thinks I’m a hot doctor. I’m Nico’s wet dream… He wants me…”