Page 22 of Wilder’s Mistake

“Wilder.”

“Look at me.”

I force my eyes open. His mouth works between my legs. His fingers curl and find the place that makes my hips lift from the bed. The pressure breaks and I come against his mouth, calling his name while he holds me through every pulse. Wilder kisses the inside of my knee and rises. I reach for him, but he catches my wrist and presses my palm to his chest. His heart pounds beneath it.

“This is not Vegas,” he says.

“I know.”

“Say what this is.”

I hold his gaze. “You. Sober. The man I came back for.”

Something fierce and exposed moves across his face. He slides the head of his cock through my wetness, then pushes inside slowly. My body stretches around him one inch at a time. I hold his shoulders and feel every part of the moment settle into me without blur or missing sequence.

When he is fully seated, he presses his forehead to mine, draws back and thrusts. Slow first. Deep. Each stroke grinds his body against my clit. Wilder braces on one forearm, his other hand holding my hip as if the contact steadies him.

I wrap both legs around his waist. “Harder.”

“Thought you wanted slow.”

“I want all of it.”

His mouth curves by a fraction, and then he drives into me harder. The bed strikes the wall in a steady rhythm. He kisses me between thrusts, fierce and unhurried at once. His chest slides over my breasts. Sweat warms the space between us. I drag my nails down his back and feel the answering shudder move through him. He catches one of my hands, laces our fingers together and pins it beside my head while his hips keep working. The hold is possessive without taking anything from me. I tighten my grip and pull him closer.

“This,” I whisper. “This is what we never said to each other.”

“Not anymore.” I feel his control tightening through his shoulders.

“You made me watch those men touch you,” he says.

“You made me wait for you to do anything about it.”

“Fair point.”

“Make up for it then.”

He rises to his knees and takes my hips. The new angle opens me wider. He drives deep enough to pull a cry from my throat.

“There?”

“Fuck. Yes.”

Wilder watches my body take him and changes pace with every response. My next climax gathers fast. He reaches between us and circles my clit.

“Come with me.”

I tighten around him and his rhythm breaks. I come hard beneath his hand, and he follows with my name torn from his mouth. He lowers over me, taking his weight on his arms. We stay joined while our breathing settles. I stroke the damp hair at his temple.

“I’m keeping the ring.”

His head lifts. “Say it again.”

“I’m keeping you.”

For the first time since I’ve known him, Wilder looks unguarded. Not soft, and not uncertain. Simply struck by something he wanted and never expected to hear offered back. He kisses me with every scrap of control gone. When it ends, he rolls onto his side and draws me against him. The compound works beyond the wall, engines and radios low beneath the quiet of his room.

“You thought I would see the gates, all this stuff and leave,” I say.