Page 69 of Tame Our Wild

I summon a moan from her throat, the sweetest fucking sound in the world that I eagerly devour.

My hand moves to grip the expanse of her throat as my tongue sweeps across hers. I suck it into my mouth, continuing to memorize her sweet, unique taste that has driven me wild since our first kiss in Salt Lake. The whimper she releases would be a cock-hardening one, but I’m already painfully erect in my wet jeans that are plastered to my skin.

“Want to go home?” I whisper across her mouth.

It dawns on me how easily that came out and how natural it sounds saying that word to her. Well, fuck. That shouldn’t be burrowing under my skin like it is.

She nods against me before squirming out of my grasp and taking off, swimming toward the shore. I clutch the canoe and flip it over before wading to the beach with it. Fifteen minutes later, we’ve got the canoe strapped in the bed of the truck as we wind around the mountain roads, with only our heartbeats to fill the silence.

My foot is heavy on the gas pedal, desperate to remove my cold, wet clothes and strip her out of hers. I want to peel them off those curves to expose every beautiful expanse of skin before I memorize each inch of her mapping with my mouth. I want to bite and trace those stretch marks I’ve seen when she wears a bikini with my tongue—physical proof from how hard she works in the gym.

When we pull up to the house, she jumps out the second I put the truck in park and runs inside. I follow slowly, my heart thundering in my chest with each step I take up the stairs. When I enter the hallway, the sight of Harlow’s door shut and the lasso still separating our sides feels like a weight of disappointment sinking into my gut like an anchor barreling toward the seabed.

“Fuck,” I mutter, pulling my fingers through my wet strands.

I turn toward my room and step through the doorway, immediately halting at the gorgeous woman standing before me in the dark. Soft moonlight pours through the windows, casting gray light and shadows that glide across the floor and decorate the room.

Harlow’s soft grin is briefly obstructed when she reaches for the hem of her T-shirt and pulls it up and over her head. Her movements paralyze me in place. And when she reaches behind her, unclasps her bra, and lets it fall to my bedroom floor, I nearly collapse to my knees seeing this nearly naked siren. Her blonde hair, shimmering like strips of silver in the moonlight, cascades over the soft swells of her breasts, hiding those perky pink nipples that are begging for my mouth. My teeth.

My head slants, my feet slowly padding across the floor toward her. “Are you sure? There’s no going back after this. As long as you’re in this house, I’m going to make you feel like you’re mine.” The column of her throat moves. “After having your taste on my tongue once, I’m addicted. I’m afraid the second I finally have your sweet pussy gripping my cock, I won’t be able to stop. Not with you.”

Her body trembles at my words. She nods, pulling her exposed chest flush with my fully clothed one. Her fingertips grip onto my wet sweatshirt. “I can’t pretend I don’t want you anymore.”

Lifting my hand, I swipe a section of her hair behind her shoulder, watching as one of her nipples hardens further at the feathered contact.

“Plus,” she adds, unable to keep the smirk off her face, “my vibrator died.”

I glide my fingers down her collarbone and over the tops of her breasts, before twisting a nipple between my fingers. Harlow swallows a strangled moan, not taking her eyes off mine. “Good. When I’m done with you, whenever you want a release, your pussy is going to crave my mouth instead.”

She rises onto her toes, brushing the words against my lips. “Then stop using it to talk and put it to use.”

“Goddamn,” I growl, crashing my mouth against hers.

I didn’t think our kissing could get any hotter, but this one is ravenous. Tongues chaotically dueling as I walk her backward, my fingers fiddling with the button on her jeans. The backs of her knees hit my bed before her body collapses onto my mattress.

Slowly, I start to peel the wet denim down her thighs. She lifts her legs one at a time so I can completely remove them and discard them on the floor with the rest of her clothes.

I point to her panties. “Take those off. Now.”

While she wiggles out of them, I turn and walk out of my bedroom door and into the hallway, picking up the lasso off the floor.

The fucking line she drew between us.

I enter the room, watching her eyes widen while I work the rope through my fingers.

Her chest rises and falls with shallow breaths. “What are you doing with that?”

“Lie in the center of the bed,” I order.

A warm hue flushes her skin. She rolls her lips, looking like she’s about to protest, but she obeys and moves farther onto the bed. I crawl onto it with her, not paying any mind to my damp clothes wetting my duvet.

I glide the rope through my fist, watching her watch me as the tendons in my hands ripple, working the rope. “Hands.”

She listens, sticking them out. I see the questions dancing in her eyes as I weave the rope around her wrists a few times, tightening it enough to secure her. She’ll feel the burn if she moves, but it won’t be enough to hurt her. She took her sweet fuckin’ time; I want her completely at my mercy.

I push her down to lie flat across my bed on her back, my body weight sinking one side of the bed beside her as I lift her hands over her head to my headboard. I thread the rope through the wood beams, tying it off to keep her bound to my bed. I stand up, admiring my work, and take mental pictures I can remember later. My cock throbs, reminding me it wants to be freed. But not yet.

Harlow told me to put my mouth to use, and that’s precisely what I plan on doing.