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I crawled over to him, moan escaping me at the sight of him. His body was unreal. Not an ounce of body fat disturbed the hard, corded muscles climbing down his abs to molded, tree-trunk thighs.
No, the tree trunk was the stalk at the apex of his Thor’s V. Way bigger than any rubber friend I’ve fooled around with, I looked at it and genuinely asked how I’d make it fit.
Wilder stroked my knee—his touch gliding up my thigh, caressing my side, and traveling to my chin where he grasped and tugged me down. Our lips met. Not a wild, crazy fare, but a sweet, gentle meeting of two mouths, two bodies, and one heart.
Wilder told me he liked Winter because she never called him crazy. I knew my sister. Knew she wouldn’t have believed half of his theories on sleeper cells infiltrating grocery store chains, or spy organizations recruiting out of boarding schools. But she didn’t need to believe the words to respect the passion behind them.
Because that’s who my Wilder was.
He was passion, intensity, protectiveness, and authority. When he believed something, he believed with everything he had. When he wanted something, he went after it with everything he knew. And when he loved someone, he loved them with every corner of his heart.
In one kiss, he overtook me—sweeping me under the tide of emotions he held back. The whole time, he wasn’t waiting for me to win him over. He wasn’t cool and unbothered while Rafael, Cato, Lucien, and Victor got closer to me.
Wilder was waiting for me to come to the one and simple truth—to be loved by him was forever and unyielding. There was no turning back or slowing down. He had me stripped and laid bare, my only hope was that he’d showed mercy to the heart I tore from my chest. There was nothing I could do to stop what we’d become now.
I was hacked.
“I love you,” we whispered—perfectly in sync. Like the goofy, beaming grin that dimpled our cheeks.
I stole one more kiss—loving it. Needing it. “I believe I was about to show you how I fuck myself.” Sliding down his chest, I gripped the base of his cock. “How I angle my dildo on the sheets just like this...”
I turned my back and pressed Wilder to my entrance. “How I get on my knees like this... and bounce on my toes like that.” Moving slow, I impaled myself on him—taking him in as far and deep as he’d go. “Ah, yes. But that is much better than a dildo.”
“Fuck, you’re so damn beautiful,” Wilder traced down my spine. “Faster, Luna. I know you’re not shy when you’re alone in your room, giving that pussy what it needs, exactly the way it wants.”
I wasn’t shy then or now. I picked up the pace—holding him just where I wanted him, and pogoing on that secret, yummy spot. Sweat beaded on our bodies that glowed in the candlelight. It was incredible how perfectly we fit. My cheeks molded to his lap. My breasts were gloves to his hands. Why did I wait so long to claim a guy who was meant to be mine?
“Just so you know,” I said, “my dildo rubs my clit.”
A deep, husky chuckle rolled from his chest. “Oh yeah?”
“Uh-huh. It pinches my nipples and kisses just under my ear too.”
“Quite a multitasking toy you’ve got, but I did tell you to do all the things you do with it for me.” Wilder rose up, pressing his warmth to me. I melted as he cupped my breast, rolling the sensitive nub under his callouses. “What else does it do?” he gruffed, nipping the shell of my ear.
“It’s amazing actually. Right about now it just starts fucking me all on its own. No hands needed. Hard, fast, and deep. It makes me forget my own name.”
“Hmm. Like this?”
Wilder dipped between my legs and slapped my clit. I jumped, crying out at the sharp, sudden spike of pleasure tearing my resolve to shreds. I hoped he gave me permission to come soon, ’cause I would not last long.
“And does it put you on your knees like this?” He pressed my cheek into a pillow and raised my ass up. “Or taste you like this?”
My toes curled as his tongue tangoed with my slit. “Yes and yes.”
“And does it—” Wilder thrust inside.
I gasped, strangling a cry from my throat. Flattening his palm between my shoulder blades, Wilder held me down while he started pumping.
“Yes,” I cried. “It definitely does that. It does it harder!” My eyes rolled up in my head and moans rolled loud and free. No one was out to hear us, but I wouldn’t care if they did. Katie was right. Receiving the best sex of my life was nothing to hide.
Our bodies moved in time, making sinful music. Slaps, grunts, moans, whispered promises, and over and over again I love you.
