Wild Girl (Slateview High 2)

“I am yours. I belong to all three of you, and I always will. And you’re mine.”

Lips and hands descended on me, sharp breaths and groans filling the quiet living room as we gave in to the need that pulsed between us.

There was no sweetness or gentleness tonight.

It was an almost violent collision.

But it was exactly what I needed.

Later that night, there was a knock at my window.

My body was pleasantly sore and exhausted, my thoughts and emotions in turmoil, so even though it was well after midnight, I wasn’t asleep yet. I’d been staring up at the ceiling, and when I heard the soft noise, my gaze cut toward the cracked and peeling window frame, my heart leaping in my chest.

I pushed the covers off and crept toward the window, but it was already halfway open by the time I got there. Misael climbed inside, a gust of cold air following him before he pushed the window pane back down.

Wrapping my arms around myself in the large sleep-shirt I was wearing—one Kace had left behind after the Christmas holiday—I rubbed at the goose bumps on my skin as the room chilled.

Then Misael stepped forward, tugging me into his embrace, and I forgot all about the cold.

He didn’t speak, didn’t explain what had brought him here.

He didn’t have to.

It was the same thing that made me melt into his arms, kissing him with everything I had.

The boys and I had all been together earlier in the evening, and I could still feel the marks of them on my body, but it hadn’t been enough.

Nothing would be enough to stop the throbbing ache in my chest, the feeling of missing each of these boys already, even though I hadn’t even gone away yet.

His hands came up to frame my face, holding it as he kissed me over and over, dipping his tongue into my mouth, tasting my lips, sliding against my own tongue in a dance that felt like pure heaven. Our lips moved together, refusing to break apart, connecting us so deeply it felt like we were falling into each other.

I didn’t know how long we kissed like that, and I was barely even aware of my feet moving until my legs hit the back of the bed. When they did, Misael gently lowered me onto the mattress, draping his body over mine, his hips grinding softly against mine.

My heart felt like it was cracking open, raw need piercing me like a blade, but our movements weren’t desperate.

It was like we were fighting fate, proving to the world that we didn’t need to rush, that we had all the time in the world.

That circumstances weren’t about to separate us.

His hand slipped up under my night shirt, drifting over my hips, my stomach, my breasts. When he drew back a little to pull the shirt off over my head, I lifted my arms and arched my back to help him.

The insulation in this tiny house was terrible, and the room had been cold even before Misael had opened the window. My nipples tightened into hard buds as the cool air hit them, and Misael drew back even further, gazing down at me like he was trying to capture this image in his memory, to preserve it for all time.

With deliberate movements, he tugged my panties down over my hips, then stood near the edge of the bed to tug his own shirt off and shove down his pants. His cock was hard, shadowy in the dim light, and the sight of him naked before me made my heart thud with both contentment and longing.

He let me stare, let me devour him with my eyes, let me run my gaze over every inch of him.

Then he braced one hand by my head, hovering over me as he looked and touched his fill, mapping the contours of my body with his fingertips.

“You were always beautiful, Cora,” he whispered. “Always so fuckin’ gorgeous. But now? Like this? You’re stunning.”

I shifted underneath him, lifting my hips to bump against his, my arms resting on the mattress above my head.

He trailed his hand along one arm, then laced the fingers of both hands with mine, pinning mine down.

“You’re the most damn beautiful when you let yourself be who you are. You know that, right, Princess?”

“Who am I?” I asked, my voice soft, my chest rising and falling heavily as my core throbbed. He was grinding his hips against mine, his cock sliding through my wet folds, brushing my clit with every stroke, pushing me closer to the edge with every movement.