Page 269 of One Wild Wish

My sputtering laugh was answer enough. “Definitely too soon.”

Gaze locked on mine, he returned my birth control to my drawer, eyes burning with intent. To one day have a child. To build a future together. A home.

All I’d ever wanted.

I threaded my fingers through his thick, black hair, pressed to my tiptoes, and kissed him slow and deep. He trailed his knuckles along my cheek, my jaw, my neck, never disconnecting his lips from mine. I traced the hard lines of his ribs, slipped his T-shirt over his head. Mine fell next to his in the same unhurried rhythm. We were on cruise control, taking our time, enjoying every curve along the ride.

His callused fingers drew tender lines around my bra, over my lace-covered nipples, coaxing them into stiff peaks. My hips moved, rocking automatically. His mirrored mine, an erotic dance to a tune only we could hear. Actually, no. There was a tune, a soft hum coming from August, so delicate I barely heard it.

“Are you singing to me?” I dropped to my knees, helped him out of his jeans. I removed his briefs. My mouth watered as his erection sprang free. His shaft was thick, flushed, the strong vein on the underside begging to be licked.

I peered up. The desire in his heavy-lidded gaze hit me between my thighs as he ran his strong hand through my hair. “You’ve always inspired my music. Can’t help but compose when I’m with you.”

I palmed his erection, brought it to my cheek, brushed it back and forth. The silk-hard feel of him was irresistible. A glorious groan hit my ears.

“I know the words to all your songs,” I said.

“I want to know the words to all of yours.” Grit laced his deepening voice.

It was an odd thing to say, considering my song-writing skills were up there with my whistling ability, but I understood what he meant. We were composing a symphony of short sharp breaths and longer sighs, guttural pants and dirty grunts as I took his gorgeous cock into my mouth. Our own love album.

“Fuck, Gwen.” He moved with me, gliding in out of my mouth. Not fast and rough. A slow slide, each one hitting the back of my throat, so deep I almost gagged. I wanted to take him deeper, though, give him more pleasure. The most. Drown him in it. My own desire pooled between my thighs.

I dragged one hand around his tense thigh, dug my fingers into his clenched ass. A strangled breath hissed from deep in his chest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck . Stop.”

His slick cock fell from my mouth, and I licked my swollen lips, loving the taste of August Cruz. “You’re saying fuck a lot again.”

“You inspire profanity, and you’re about to make me come too soon.”

He yanked me up and tugged my jeans down. I reached to undo my bra, but he slapped my ass. “This goes slow.” A statement. A command.

I’d never been so wet.

He dragged my thong over my legs, dropping kisses in its wake. He attended to my bra next, lavishing my breasts with the same reverent attention before sliding lower. My knees weakened in the best way. I gripped the meaty parts of his shoulders, smiled at the cowlick in his hair. The one I’d tug when watching TV, to annoy him, to get his attention, to pretend I didn’t love my best friend.

“Spread your legs, baby.” Words I’d never thought I’d hear him say.

He pushed me against my shower, kneeled, then hooked one of my legs over his shoulder. He trailed his tongue in a mind-numbing slide. The move was excruciatingly slow. He did it again, and again. I whimpered. I tried to move my hips, desperate for him to lick faster, press harder.

He chuckled against me. “So impatient.”

I was about to tell him where to shove his impatience, but he clamped his lips on me and sucked while moving his head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck ,” was all I managed.

Our limited sex vocabulary.

My hands were somewhere in his hair, my heart was somewhere in the clouds. We were somewhere in the world, but I had no clue where.

This. Just this. “That fucking spot.”

A purely male sound rumbled from him. He took my cue, concentrating his efforts where I needed him. His fingers joined the party, pleasure building. He was everywhere: inside my body, promising me a future, reminding me of my past.

Regardless of our mistakes or what lay ahead, we’d cope. We’d always return to each other. That security had my body relaxing, enough to shape my orgasm, fuzzy edges that sharpened. Good. This. Yes. More.

“Don’t you dare stop.”

He pumped his fingers and held me steady against his face. The next lick sent me bucking. I let go in a rush, nearly yanked out his hair as I came. The aftershocks ravaged me.

Gently, he lowered my leg, kissed the curls between my thighs. “You’re amazing.”