Page 143 of One Wild Wish

He stood at the side of the bed, eyes hooded as he stared down at me. He gripped himself over his briefs and dragged his palm along his erection, legs wide, body strung taut. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.

Steamed up, I flicked my bra clasp and tossed the purple lace at his head. He batted it away with his large paw, his eyelids sinking heavier. I slipped off my panties, twirled them in the air, and launched them at his lampshade. His answering groan was beyond erotic, deep and rugged and all kinds of wicked.

I’d never felt so exposed, or desired.

He shucked his Hugo Boss briefs, joining my birthday-suit party, and his erection sprang free. Whoa. That was a lot of man.

His cock was thick and hard, the head engorged. All for me.

He skulked closer, hunger burning bright. But he didn’t ravage me. As though I might break, he caged me, lowering himself down in a tortuous descent. The edges of our bodies brushed—knees, thighs, hips, the flats of our stomachs, our chests. Miles of bare skin connecting. We both exhaled for an eternity.

Nothing had ever felt this sensuous. This right.

We lay still for a beat, then our pace surged. We couldn’t explore enough, fast enough, rough enough. He rocked his length against my thigh as he squeezed one breast, sucking my nipple into his hot mouth and palming my ass. I writhed. One second I was tugging his thick hair, then I was pulling at his neck, his shoulders, his tattooed behind. Greedily fusing us closer.

It wasn’t close enough. “I might die. I need you inside me.”

“God, Ainsley. I’ve never wanted a woman this much.”

Pausing, he pushed onto his forearms. The distance allowed me to trail my fingers through his scratch-soft chest hairs. I loved the feel of it against my palm, the hard lines of his pecs and corrugated abs. His cock stirred and slipped off my thigh, lining up with my entrance.

Hypnotized, I swayed my hips, not allowing him access, just loving the tease of all that power and rigid heat, knowing what was to come. Mainly us . “You’re so hot.”

My vocabulary had lost its mental thesaurus.

His cock twitched, making contact. He released a pained growl. “Fuck. Babe, I can’t take it. I wanted to lick and taste you, and I will. But I need to be inside you.”

Breathing hard, he nearly fell over as he fumbled with his end-table drawer, returning with a condom. My body turned hot and swollen as he tore the wrapper and rolled the latex down his hard length. Gripping the base of his shaft and squeezing as if to curb his arousal, he pushed one then two fingers inside me. I gasped at the sensation, clamping down on him while canting my hips up, needing him, needing more.

“You’re soaked.” His low voice sounded like it came from the abyss, a bottomless sea of lust. His gaze flickered then, as though hesitant, hinting to the sensitive boy behind the man. As though he was vulnerable, too, risking a nasty fall.

Maybe I wasn’t alone in this leap of faith.

His fingers kept exploring me, his other hand clenched around himself. I could barely handle the sting behind my eyes. I bit my lip and pulled him down, his weight on me, his thudding heart next to mine. Hands tangled in my hair, he eased his hips forward, an undulating roll as he slid inside me, slow and gentle. He stretched me wide, while our lips met and tongues danced, my world reducing to the points where our bodies met.

Hips. Fire exploded between my thighs.

Calves. Bristly hairs caressed my legs.

Foreheads. Silent promises offered.

“Ainsley.” He murmured my name, reverent, as his strokes quickened. I molded the bottoms of my feet over his calves, squeezing my knees into his sides, meeting his steady thrusts. Shuddering, he shifted his angle and lavished my breasts with attention, flicked my nipples with his tongue. His slight scruff scratched at my skin, spurring my arousal.

“I don’t want it to end,” I murmured.

I don’t want us to end. They were still there, my irrational fears. The belief that love and commitment were fleeting things destined to fall apart. That Owen was too good to be true.

“This is just the beginning.” His eyes were at a full one-hundred percent now, molten and fierce. Begging me to trust him. He planted his palm on my cheek, holding me firm, not allowing me to look away. Our connection deepened, causing a tear to leak from my eye. We were joined, our bodies moving as one, our emotions bared in this unguarded place of openness. We didn’t kiss. We rocked and moaned and whispered each other’s names as we neared the peak.

“I’m close,” I panted.

“Let go, baby. I’m gonna explode.”

He lowered his full weight on me, cradling me close as we bucked together and tensed. My orgasm hit me in a towering wave, my insides clamping on him as I shook. I dug my nails into his strong back. His release followed mine, a surge of heat pulsing between my thighs. He rolled his hips harder into me, a string of expletives growled in my ear, his legs shaking until he collapsed forward.

“Will you still want me if I’m blind?” I rasped.

He laughed, his weight dropping heavier on my chest. “Definitely. Especially since I’ve lost my sight, too.”