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6
ADDISON
If I never experienced another thing as long as I lived, I would be satisfied. His mouth on my flesh and the way he used his tongue were everything I never knew I desired.
Pulling away from my center, he softly sucked on the inside of my thigh once again. My sensitive body jerked from his attention, no longer able to handle his touch.
I leaned up, sure he was finished with me, but like a hungry lion, he began to crawl his way up my body. He licked his plump lips as though he didn’t want to stop tasting me, and I fell back when he rose above me once more.
I should have felt shy since I was unaccustomed to having a man on top of me and inexperienced with the act of sex completely, but he felt right. He made me feel free as though I never needed to hide from him, which made my stomach sink with regret since I was doing exactly that.
I was hiding from Wyatt.
I was pretending to be someone I wasn’t.
And the guilt was slowing eating me.
I wanted to open my mouth and confess. I wanted to tell him how I felt about him, but I couldn’t. I had to keep our secret because not only did confessing put my father’s life at jeopardy, but also the thought of losing Wyatt made my heart feel sore and brittle.
I’d always wanted Wyatt. Ever since I was a girl watching from afar as he became a man, I was fascinated with him.
Borderline obsessed.
Addicted.
And having him with me—inside me—making love to my body and soul, I felt as though I was complete in some way.
His rigid cock slid against my slick flesh, teasing me and tempting me with even more pleasure. His skin was warm beneath my palms when I swept my hands over his forearms. My fingers filled the creases of the lean muscles of his biceps before I clutched his shoulders, my nails biting into his skin and making him hiss.
Using a thick thigh, he pushed my legs open wider as he positioned himself. The tip of him pushed in with slow, shallow, steady pumps until he thrust in hard, filling me completely. I gasped, enjoying the feel of him everywhere.
“Wyatt.” His named rushed over my lips in pleasure.
It was as though I had summoned a demon because once I said his name, he proceeded to show me exactly how far he could push me.
Dominate me.
Possess me.
Claim me.
He owned me with each abusive thrust, our wet flesh smacking until all I could see was the blinding white light behind my eyelids.
My voice cracked, broken with his name as he drove into me like a man possessed with need. He grunted, one of his hands bruising my hip while the other tangled in the strands of my hair. He tugged, pulling my head to the side so he could devour a path over the heated skin of my neck. His teeth scraped over my shoulder as he worked me over with one hard drive after another.
“I love how your body talks to me,” he breathed against my skin. “You can’t take it, but you’re dying for more.”
He wasn’t wrong.
I wasn’t sure how much I could take, but I knew I needed more.
“My body’s talking to you?”
I couldn’t see how he could even have a coherent thought at that moment because I couldn’t. All I could do was feel him.
Surrounding me.
Consuming me.
