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“Please, Wilder.” Tears clog the back of my throat, my desperate need to come overriding everything else.
A cry rips from my throat when he removes his hand from between my thighs, and my legs buckle as I sag against the sink, but I only get a moment’s reprieve before Wilder’s hand slides into my hair, fisting it at the base of my neck and pulling hard until my back is arched.
His lips are pressed against my ear, his breathing ragged and uneven, giving away just how affected he is by all of this. I feel his other hand moving between us, followed by the sharp sound of his zipper being lowered before I feel his hard length gliding between my ass cheeks.
“You wanna come all over my cock, Angel?”
“God, yes.” His hips undulate as he slides his dick between my wet folds until the tip nudges my swollen clit, making my inner walls clench. He continues with the slow, teasing pace until I’m sure I’ve soaked his cock and my body feels like it’s about to go up in flames. I’m on the verge of losing my goddamn mind, and the tiny fragment that’s still somewhat with it wonders if that’s exactly what Wilder is trying to do as he holds me hostage at the edge of the cliff. I can practically see the waves crashing far below, and I’m eager to jump off the ledge and feel the cool water washing over my heated skin.
His hand grabs hold of my thigh, lifting it to rest on the countertop, spreading me open and granting him better access. Sliding around my hips until he can dip lower, Wilder’s fingers once again start up their torturous rhythm on my clit, matching each thrust as his cock glides between my folds. I push back against him, hungry to feel him inside me, but he pins my body in place with his hips, denying me.
The tears that have been building in my eyes finally overflow, and I wonder if this is what it feels like to be ripped apart at the seams. I feel like my body is being pulled in a hundred and one different directions. My legs are jelly beneath me. Wilder’s weight is the only thing holding me upright, and my emotions are all over the place. I can’t decide if I want to cry, scream, or break down in hysterical laughter. I’m close to doing all three. So. Fucking. Close.
Wilder uses his firm grip on my hair to tilt my head, licking a line up my cheek and gathering my tears on his tongue. More of them immediately begin to spill over, and he watches, mesmerized. “I can taste how badly you need to come.”
The way he says it only makes me cry harder, and I sob against him. He’s not going to let me come. All of this torture, and he’s not going to give my body what it so desperately needs.
I can feel myself falling apart, and not in a good way. My mind is slowly descending into mad hysteria, and I don’t even realize Wilder has shifted behind me until I feel the tip of his cock nudging my entrance. Glancing up at the mirror, I realize he’s wiped the steam away and I can once again look into his turbulent brown eyes.
He places his hand on my hip, squeezing tightly to keep me still, and I can feel the tense way he’s holding himself as he prevents himself from sliding in any deeper.
“Are you going to be a good girl and cream all over my dick, Angel?”
The purr in his voice tells me that’s exactly what he wants. I try to nod in response, but his tight grip on my hair prevents me, and instead, I flick my tongue out to lick my dry lips, my voice coming out in a broken croak. “Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I’ll be a good girl. I’m going to come so hard. I just need you to fuck me, Wilder. Please.”
Something flashes across his face too quickly for me to decipher before he buries his face in my neck, murmuring something that I can’t hear. With his tip resting just inside my entrance and his hand pinning my hip against the countertop, he lets go of my hair and uses his fingers to work my swollen and oversensitive nub.
This is it. I’m going to come this time. He’s going to let me come.
As I climb that hill for the final time, I can feel my inner walls clenching hungrily as they try to suck Wilder deeper, but he holds himself back, even though he groans with pain-tinged pleasure every time I constrict around him. I try to push back against him, but with every attempt, he only grips my hip harder, no doubt leaving fingerprint bruises behind.
He waits until I’m again dangling over the cliff, and I know I’m going to fall apart as soon as he slides inside of me, but that’s okay. I’m so worked up, I can probably come several times before he’s finished.
His hips begin to thrust shallowly, never letting more than his blunt head make it inside.
“God, I can feel how badly you want me.”
“Yes.”
“You’d do just about anything I asked of you right now, wouldn’t you?”
The significance of his words doesn’t even penetrate the thick fog of pheromones clouding my mind. “Anything.”
“Too bad you wouldn’t have doneanythingto have me four years ago.”
It’s only when cool air rushes at my back that what he’s said penetrates.
“W-what?”
Even though he’s put some distance between us, his fingers still move swiftly over my clit, sending me barreling head-first toward an orgasm. His other hand pushes me painfully against the sharp edge of the counter, and when I look up into the mirror, cold, dead eyes look back at me.
“Wilder.” This time, I have no idea if his name on my tongue is a plea for him to come back to me or a plea for him to keep going. Using only his fingers, he drives me closer to the edge than he has before. I can feel my release right there, just beyond my fingertips, like flower petals unfurling as the sunlight gets closer with the promise of warmth. At the exact moment when the sunlight touches the outer edges of the petals, someone comes and snatches the sun away, and in its absence, the petals retreat once again.
“No,” I sob as the absence of his hands on my body leaves me bereft.
