Wilder (The Wild Ones 3)

Nervousness creeps in, along with a hint of insecurity, because I’ve never done this so abruptly. I’ve also never been so desperate for a guy to touch me, and I’ve prided myself on that for a really long time.

It made me feel more evolved.

I’m actually a pretty base creature, as it turns out, because I have one thought on my mind.

My back hits the bed, and I almost scream when he breaks the kiss. Until I realize he’s only doing it to drop the pants I was attempting to remove from him.

My eyes rake over the naturally tan flesh, abs, and all that skin.

When my gaze flicks up to his to find his eyes hooded and his lips parted as he simply stares at me like he’s never wanted anything more…I rip my shirt over my head like I’m the most shameless girl in the world.

He comes back down on top of me in an instant, and his lips seek my neck. A startled breath escapes me, because I’ve never had my neck kissed like this and felt sparks of erotic pleasure toy with every sensory nerve in my body.

My hips arch into him, searching for friction, as he settles himself between my legs. My fingers once again tangle in that soft hair when he kisses his way down to my chest, his fingertips brushing the top swell of my right breast as he teases me.

He shoves the cup down, and my breast springs free. His mouth fuses to my nipple in the next instant without warning.

My thighs clench around his waist, a slightly garbled sound escapes me, and my grip tightens on his hair—all of it a response to one simple touch.

He frees my other breast the same way, and he turns to lavish it with the same attention, which only has me desperately grinding myself against him.

He groans against my nipple, and the vibrations only add to the many overwhelming sensations that are stacking up to drive me crazy.

He starts tugging down my pants, dragging my panties with them, and I lift my hips to make it as easy as possible for him to hurry up and get me naked.

All the while, he keeps moving from one nipple to the other until I can’t take it anymore. He comes willingly when I use my hold on his hair to lift his head. Our lips collide again, only this time he seems even more desperate, and I kick out of my pants in true awkward fashion, doing all I can not to make him lift off of me.

“You’re on birth control, right?” he asks against my lips.

I nod. “You still need a condom,” I murmur between our frantic kisses, my heart pounding so hard that the echo of it drums in my ears.

He manages to tear his mouth away from mine, in spite of my protests, long enough to snatch his jeans from the floor.

I’m naked, aside from my bra that has been shoved down and effectively keeps my breasts on display.

He pulls out his wallet, retrieves the condom, tears open the packet…all within a few seconds. I find it weird how long he inspects the condom.

“I can put it on if you don’t know how,” I suggest, needing him to hurry this along, because I’m not far away from begging, and I don’t really want to have to beg.

He grins over at me. “Just checking for holes.”

I…don’t know what to say to that.

He starts rolling it on, and my eyes drop to his cock for the first time.

It’s not a monster dick, but it’s definitely a good size to work with. I’m even more excited now.

His boxers get shoved all the way down, and he steps out of them as he finishes putting the condom on. I watch as he climbs back over my body, lifting one of my legs to drag it over his hip.

His eyes find mine again, and the intensity of him staring directly at me as the tip brushes against me is enough to make my thighs clench again. A whimper escapes me.

I don’t whimper.

Why am I whimpering?

This is too much.

I want him too much. It can’t be good to need a guy like—

My thoughts are silenced when he starts pushing in, and I hiss out a breath as tortured relief starts to swell inside me with each inch of access he gains.

It’s a slow, savoring entry, and his eyes never leave mine. When he’s almost all the way inside me, his hips shoot forward, and his eyes flutter shut as some sweet, tortured, delicious sound leaves him.

I’ll never forget that sound for as long as I live. It’s effectively etched into my memory, and it’ll probably resurface to remind me of this feeling for the rest of my life and become the new measure of expectations for all men.