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It was like time stood still, like the world was revolving around us. I watched as he lowered his eyes to look at my lips once more, and then he started to lean in. I knew what he was going to do, knew he was going to kiss me. I could’ve stopped him, could have escaped, since I was a pro at that. But I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.
It all happened in slow motion, and despite all rational thought telling me that starting this with Wilder would make this situation even more complicated, that it was a recipe for disaster, I wanted nothing more than to feel his mouth on mine. I wanted to feel all that power, all that male, passionate aggression moving over me, consuming me, taking away every single reality until I could just focus on this one moment in time.
I felt his hand slide behind my neck, his strong fingers pressing into my skin. A chill raced up my spine from that small touch, from the sensation of his warm breath moving along my slightly parted mouth. I couldn’t breathe, felt like my body was on fire from the inside out, and was so confused and aroused I just wanted to lean in and be the one to kiss him.
But I didn’t. I stared into his eyes, letting him take control. I knew nothing about seducing a man, knew nothing about making the first move. And a man like Wilder—all male, raw power wrapped up in an over six-foot, muscular, tattooed build—could no doubt show me exactly what wicked things he could do with his body.
I closed my eyes, and the closer he leaned in, I anticipated the feel of those firm, full lips against mine. But as the seconds ticked by and I still just felt his frantic breathing against my skin, only then did I open my eyes. He was staring at my mouth, his jaw set hard, this mask of pure, unadulterated lust coming from him so strong I actually sucked in a startled breath. He looked like… he was about to snap.
“Wilder,” I whispered, not sure what I was going to say, but that lone word spilling from me seemed to be the match that lit this situation on fire.
In the next moment, he groaned, cursed something under his breath, then slammed his mouth down on mine. It was sudden and intense, his lips on mine, his tongue stroking the seam until I opened and let him in. The fingers at the back of my neck dug in almost painfully, but I found I loved it, yearned for more.
“Touch me,” he said in this pleading, guttural tone, breathless as he pulled back only an inch.
I had my arms around his shoulders, bringing myself closer to him. He groaned again, and before I knew what was happening, he had me hauled over him, so I now straddled his lap.
He still had his hand on the back of my neck and placed his other one at the small of my back, the slight pressure enough to tell me he wouldn’t let me move away. And as he kissed me, stroked his tongue over mine, made these purely male sounds in the back of his throat like this was the best thing he’d ever experienced, I felt my control slipping as well.
I rested fully on his lap, felt the impossibly hard length of his erection pressing against his pants, digging into the very intimate, sensitive part of me. Wilder was big in all ways, his body honed to male perfection, hard in the way a man was who worked out and stayed healthy. And what he sported between his thighs was no different. Despite the clothing separating us, I could feel he was long and thick.
He slid his hand up the center up my back, over my hip, along my side, and I hoped like hell he’d twist his hand so he could cup my breast. The mound ached for his heavy palm, squeezing my flesh, the weight tantalizing to my sensitive nipple. God, he was so close, right at the underside of it, stopped as if he wanted to do what I achingly needed him to.
Please. Touch me. More.
He devoured my mouth.
Our heads were tilted, our tongues dueling, yet I let him take supremacy. I let Wilder lead the way, because knowing he had the control turned me on like nothing else. I found myself griping his shoulders forcefully, digging my nails into his skin, hearing him groan from the act. I pressed my pussy down on his hardness more, his grunt spurring me on.
Something inside me started to unravel, and as I slid my hands over his shoulders, feeling his muscles tense, jump under his warm, smooth flesh, all I wanted to do was throw caution to the wind and not think about anything or anyone but seeking out the pleasure that only Wilder had ever brought out of me.
