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“What’s so funny?” he asks, collaring my throat while pinching my nipple.
“Nothing.” I roll my hips, and he lets out a curse, then sits up, grabbing my ass in his hands, and stands. Wrapping my legs around his hips, I lick up his throat, then tug on his earlobe with my teeth, and he smacks my ass hard enough to sting. It’s not a sensation that I have ever felt, but my pussy clenches.
Dropping me on the bed, he stands over me, then grabs the waistband of my leggings, yanks them down, and tosses them behind him before shoving my legs apart and burying his face between my thighs. He doesn’t take his time—he pulls my clit into his mouth while his fingers slide inside me, the sensation overwhelming. Lifting my hips to get closer, I cry out when he rips his mouth away and reaches over to the side of the bed to grab a condom.
“Shirt off.”
I don’t argue. I quickly take off my shirt and hold my breath when he deftly slides on the condom and slams into me with one quick thrust. With my breath caught in the back of my throat, I hold on to the bedding as he starts to fuck me hard, each downward glide making it hard to breathe.
“No,” I cry when he pulls out, but that cry turns into a moan when he lifts my legs up over my head and starts to eat my pussy again. “Wyatt.”
“Quiet,” he orders, smacking my ass before yanking me toward him once more and fucking me again. Overwhelmed and seeing stars, I’m sure that I’m going to come, but right when I’m on the verge of losing it, he pulls out and drops his face back down between my legs, draws my clit into his mouth, and flicks his tongue over it in fast succession. As I try to get ahold of his hair to hold him to me so that he won’t stop, he pulls back again and slides into me once more, taking me hard. With a heavy weight building in my lower belly and my legs shaking and scalp tingling, I almost scream when he goes back to eating me out.
“I can’t take any more, Wyatt.” I pant, and he smacks my ass, then tears his mouth from between my legs and flips me to my belly before yanking me up to my hands and knees on the edge of the bed. Sliding back into me, he plants himself there, then wraps his arms around me and pulls me up so that I’m kneeling in front of him, impaled on his cock.
“Yes.” My head falls back to his shoulder when he starts to move slowly, his hand between my thighs, his fingers rolling over my clit. Lifting my hips in sync with his thrusts, I raise my hands over my head and grab his hair, his free hand cupping my breast, his fingers still working me over.
The world around us dims, and there is nothing but him and me as my orgasm slowly builds once more, this time taking on a life of its own.
“You are my favorite place,” he whispers against my ear, and my throat gets tight. “I wasn’t looking for you, Genevieve, but I’m fucking glad I found you.”
“Me too,” I whisper as the sheer impact of his words and this moment wrap around me. Every time I’m with him, I experience something new that I swear is my favorite until the next time we are together, and it’s replaced with something else I like even more. But this moment right here is one that I will never forget. Maybe it’s the slow glide of his lips against my neck, or what he just said. Or maybe it’s the way there is no space between us and I have never felt closer to another person in my life. Whatever it is, it’s perfect, he’s perfect. I never expected him. I didn’t want to ever give someone the power to hurt me again. And I know that he could destroy me if he wanted to. I also know down to my marrow that he never would.
When he follows me over the edge of my orgasm, I fall to my belly, and my eyes slide closed.
“Hungry?” he chuckles when my stomach growls, and I smile.
“Yeah.” I stretch my arms out over my head. “Should we go out to the diner for lunch?”
“In public.” I hear the smile in his voice and reach behind me and pinch his side. “Ouch.”
“Don’t be mean.” I press my bottom back into him. “Everyone I know knows about us, so unless you have someone you don’t want to see us together . . .”
“Be quiet, Genevieve.” He presses his hips into mine, making me gasp. Despite not being fully hard, he’s still really hard. “You know I don’t give a fuck who sees us.” After slowly sliding out of me, he gets off the bed and smacks my ass. “Meet me in the shower.”
“I’m coming.” I watch him walk across the room and open the door. When I hear the water turn on, I give it a couple minutes, then get out of bed and walk to the bathroom and join him in the shower.
“Hey, guys, grab a couple menus and seat yourselves,” Virginia calls out as Wyatt and I walk into Cali’s Diner hand in hand. Glancing around the crowded restaurant, I look for a place for us to sit, but there aren’t many options. Then again, Cali’s is always busy this time of day.
“Over there.” Wyatt motions to an open booth that sits at the edge of the kitchen, then places his hand against my lower back and leads me that way, saying hello to everyone who greets him with a smile or quiet hello as we pass. “What’s with the smile?” he asks, taking my coat and placing it on the back of his seat with his own.
“Just thinking that when the election comes around, you’re going to win by a landslide.” I slip into my seat, and he slides into the seat across from me.
“We don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“Yes, we do, or I do.”
“We’ll see,” he mumbles, then leans into the table. “In the meantime, I need you to let me know what you need out at Lavender Hill to feel comfortable staying there.”
“What?”
“I know you mentioned paint, and I’m sure that there are some rugs or some shit like that we need to get, but what else are you thinking?” he asks, and I stare at him unblinking. “Genevieve.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’ll be staying there. I want to know what you need so that you’re comfortable.”
“We’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks.”
