The moment she said those three little words I knew I was in serious trouble. So this was how men became slaves to their women.
I’m screwed.
SEVENTEEN
“What's a fuck when what I want is love?”
~ Henry Miller
HELEN
How many times had we fucked so far?
I’d lost count.
All I knew was that I was going to need a new damn couch at this rate.
“What has you so distracted?” he asked from above me.
I grinned. “Only you.”
He smirked, taking my nipples into his mouth while his hands found their way between my thighs again. I bit back the moan trying to escape from my lips. He kissed my breast, moving up my chest, my neck. I grabbed his hair when he got my lips. He kissed me briefly and pulled back, but I wanted more than that. So when he left enough short kisses on my lips, I held him in place. Sliding my tongue into his mouth…our tongues rolled over each other in wet, languid kisses.
“God, your pussy is so wet for me,” he moaned into my mouth before pulling his fingers from me. He brought his hand to my lips and without hesitation I tasted myself, eagerly sucking my wetness off his fingers. His eyes glazed over as I grabbed onto his cock, running my finger over the tip of him.
“Fuck, Helen.” He bit his lip as I moved my hand slowly up and down the length of him.
I enjoyed the look on his face more than I ever thought I would; the pleasure rippled through him, and the way he stared into my eyes only made me crave more.
“I need you,” he whispered, taking my hand into his, forcing me to stop.
“I need you, too,” I replied softly as he kissed me hard. He paused, neither of us saying anything. We just stared, our lips hovering over each other’s. I knew what he was trying to say…I belonged to him now. We’d gone too far to ever stop now. We couldn’t pretend this was just an accident, that we didn’t know what we were doing. We’d made the choice. We made it repeatedly.
“Wyat—” Before I could even get his name out, he was slamming himself into me.
I hissed as my back arched off the couch. “Fuck!”
“God, Helen…,” he gasped out from above me, holding my thighs as he pounded his cock inside of me.
“No,” I moaned, unsuccessfully gripping onto his back as he pulled out slowly. Surprising me, he thrusted back in suddenly, just once before pulling out at the same tortuously slow pace.
“Ah—” I tried to protest, but he simply kissed me, biting my bottom lip before burying himself deeply inside me again. I could barely grasp what was going on, my mind going into a daze…he grabbed onto my hips, and it was like he couldn’t hold himself back…I could feel him in me, feeling every inch of him as he drove himself in and out.
“Wyatt…” I couldn’t help the tears that started to fall from my eyes. I was feeling so many different things at once.
And he didn’t stop, how could he? Instead, he lifted my leg up onto his shoulder. I could feel my toes curl. I grabbed onto his hair and the way he kissed the length of my arms felt so loving, so tender, such a contradiction to how he normally was...
I felt so… so damn alive.
He was rough, he was passionate, sweet and sinful all at once… and I craved it all…every part of him. Bringing my leg down, I pushed against his chest, locking my legs just above his ass. He rolled us over.
His eyes were like liquid fire, focused only on me, and I knew he was seeing the same emotions reflected in mine.
“Ahh…,” he hissed as I rose off him slowly before suddenly taking him inside me again. “Fuck, Helen.”
He reached up to touch me, but I smacked his hand away, grinning as he glared at me.
When he reached up a second time to grab my breast, I slapped his hand away, again, giggling at the frustrated look on his face. Sitting still, I grinned as he bit his lips.