Page 70 of The Wild Fire


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The man eats me even more fervently as I peak. Shrieking and shaking, I allow him to lick and suck the orgasm straight from my soul. My body quakes from head to toe as I come apart on his tongue.

He presses my legs open and keeps going until I’m writhing and pushing his shoulders for him to stop.

Still tangled in the vines of my orgasm, I hear him speak. “You okay, Princess?”

I’m dizzy and completely blinded by the stars glittering in my periphery. My hands reach for him. “Oh my god. Come here.”

I lie in a pile of wreckage and ruin. A grinning Davis comes into my line of vision. Lips wet from my arousal. Eyes dark from love and hunger. His contented expression makes my heart constrict. How am I supposed to walk away from this?

He slips on top of me and the pressure of his broad chest pushes the air out of mine. I wrap myself around him like a little baby koala in need of affection.

Chuckling, Davis lowers his face over mine. “You’re fucking adorable, you know that?”

When my fingers find the back of his head, pulling him closer, his lips coax mine open. We kiss each other, deep and dirty. I taste myself on his tongue and it drives me wild and makes me dizzy.

As we make out, my fingers crawl between us and close into a fist around his long, rigid cock. He’s harder than concrete. I squeeze and I pump, up and down, clenching then releasing, loving the way his dick throbs in my hand.

Davis’s groan is a feral, helpless sound. But after the way he just had me at his mercy, I revel in this tiny bit of control.

His hand covers mine. “Gonna fuck you now,” he announces, guiding my movements and sliding the tip of his erection through my warm, sticky opening. “Spread for me, Princess.”

And just like that, the tables turn once more. He’s in charge again.

Without hesitating, I do as I’m told, fully expecting him to wreck me hard and fast with his cock.

But that’s not the version of Davis Westbrook that I get. Propped above me, he unhurriedly feeds his hard length into my ready opening.

“I’m gonna fuck you slow,” he mutters, brushing my bangs from my eyes.

My heart clenches. “Yes…”

We stare into each other's eyes as he begins to move.

The look on his face is so beautiful. Euphoria. Intoxication. Bliss. It takes my breath away, knowing that I’m the cause of the emotions currently swirling in his mesmerizing eyes.

It almost makes me forget that I’m the cause of the pain, too. He’s savoring this moment because we both know that another night like this between us isn’t guaranteed.

The slow slide of his cock through my tunnel activates every one of my nerve endings. It sets every inch of my skin ablaze. The intensity rises between us. With him staring deep into my eyes as he fucks me, my chest feels like it might implode.

Every thrust sends me spiraling deeper into my emotions. I abandon myself to him in a way that only makes sense because of how deeply I trust him.

It’s just sex, Alana. Nothing more.I don’t want to get caught up in my feelings and ruin everything.

I try to shut off my heart and let my body do all the feeling. But when it comes to Davis Westbrook, that’s just not how it works. My heart has always been part of the equation. It’s inevitable. It’s inescapable.

My panic is starting to rise. This slow-fuck and all the eye contact is way too intimate. I don’t like losing control like this.

“I wanna be on top,” I announce, breathlessly.

Davis crooks a thick brow at me, continuing to slowly pump his hips. “You’re not in charge here.”

“Please.” Panic thumps beneath my ribcage where my heart is in danger of exploding any minute now.

“Such nice manners. So polite.” He smirks. “But the answer is still ‘no’.”

Chest heaving breathlessly, I drag my hands down his chest. “Stop torturing me, you jerk.” I lean up and bring my lips to his ear. “You love it when I ride your dick.” I undulate my hips from below. “You love to see the way my tits bounce.” I lock my ankles around his back and work faster. “You love to feel my ass grinding on you when I’m on top.”

When I say that, he makes an animalistic sound. “You play dirty. You know that?” His arm bands around my back and, in a heart beat, he flips us over. Then he’s on his back and I’m above him, staring down at his beautiful, sculpted torso.

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