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My thong is pushed aside, and he’s between my hips, rubbing where I’m slick.
Jesus, Tyler. He’s a fire, consuming me, and I can’t see through the flames. I want them to engulf me.
I get my arms free and wrap them around his neck, dragging his mouth back to mine. Pinned between him and the wall, I lift my other leg too, and he lifts me higher so he can rub against me, tantalizing and teasing.
Our shared exhale is need and frustration, our lips bumping and sliding.
Until he drops to his knees and I stop breathing.
I feel his eyes on me in the dark. I can’t see him, or me, or the contents of this closet, but I sense him.
The second his tongue finds me, I die.
“Tyler.”
His groan against my slickness makes me tremble—with strength and vulnerability.
“You.” His whispered word is a curse, a prayer.
Tyler licks a trail where I’m burning up for him. Again. This time lingering on the tight bud of feeling at the top.
I grab past his hair for the railing to get more leverage. Every breath I suck in has my ribs fighting with the tight beaded fabric of my dress. It’s a beautiful cage.
This man knows how to make me scream. And from the way he’s devouring me, he’s dead set on making me do it.
“Again.” He’s reading my mind, and I can’t even resent it.
His name is a tortured whisper on my lips, and I feel his response in the way his fingers dig into my trembling thighs, the way his mouth vibrates as he groans against my skin.
Tyler’s head between my thighs, worshipping and demanding at once. I hear what he’s doing to me not only in my sounds, but my body’s sounds. I can hear from the wetness how much I want this, how much he knows it.
My body bends toward him, responding like one of the instruments he’s charmed over the years. He builds me up until every inhale is a shallow rasp, every exhale a shuddering sigh.
“Come on, Six. Tell me how much you missed me.” He adds another finger, stretching me to the point of discomfort.
But it’s the meaning of it that’s so sexy I can’t bear it—that I’m his like he’s mine—and the man I love is just desperate enough to need to prove it to us both.
I come like that, in a moaning pile of limbs and pulsing need. He sucks on my skin, stroking the spot deep inside that makes me shudder. I fall, my head hitting the wall.
Something crashes down on him.
“Did you hear something?” Beck’s voice calls outside.
No. No, fucking no.
I’m tugging down my dress before the door opens.
“There you are.” Beck looks between us, taking in us and the fallen closet railing. He claps Tyler on the back. “Bar in the bedroom closet’s sturdier. All you had to do was ask.”
But as he shuts the door, I spot Zeke in the kitchen and my nerves return.
I pray that misstep won’t come back to haunt me or Tyler.
