“Ahhh, yes,” I manage to moan.
“Me too, angel. I’m so fucking close already. Squeeze your tits, Ari. Pinch your nipples. Do it now, love.”
I do as he says, playing with my breasts as he glides in and out of me. My thighs start trembling, and I don’t understand how I can be on the edge of an orgasm after coming so many times already. And yet…
“Oh! Oh, God, Wilder…ohmygod…”
I squeeze my thighs together again and again, clenching my pussy to try and find some relief. When I pinch my nipples, an unexpected orgasm rolls through my body, causing me to arch my back and dig my fingers into my tits.
“Jesus, Ari, are you coming right now?”
I cry out, unable to answer him in words.
He grunts and pulls out. Still straddling me, he strokes his cock twice before shooting hot cum all over my chest. I almost lose it again, thinking about how dirty and primal it is. He's marked me.
Every cell in my body throbs as I continue to shake from my powerful orgasm. Wilder flops down on the bed next to me with his eyes closed, panting and sweating.
We lie next to each other on our backs, both coming down from the intense high we just experienced.
Finally, Wilder breaks the silence. “That was incredible. So fucking hot. Jesus.” He turns his head to look at me. Reaching out, he traces along my jaw, down my neck, and over my shoulder. “So beautiful,” he murmurs more to himself than to me. He pulls me into his side and arranges us so my arm is flung over his chest and my head is resting on his muscled arm beneath me.
“I’m going to get you all messy,” I say, referring to the cum he sprayed all over me.
“Don’t care. Need to hold you, angel.” He leans over and kisses my forehead. “Besides, that just means we need to shower, right?”
I feel his smile against my skin. “Mmhm. That sounds lovely. But I need to recover first. I don’t think I can stand.”
He chuckles and pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around me and hugging me to his chest.
A girl could get used to this.
What future do you have together?I hate that thought, and I hate even more that it’s robbing me of the joy of this moment.
But seriously, Wilder has no use for someone like me. I’m so much younger and inexperienced in pretty much everything. Meanwhile, Wilder has already spent years at war, experiencing things I’ll never understand. He’s a hero, even if he doesn’t see himself that way. The man built his own home and set it up with solar power and heat. I don’t know the first thing about any of that stuff. I’m pathetic in comparison. What would I possibly bring to this relationship? My paranormal investigative skills? Stupid, just like Aunt Maureen always said.
“Everything okay?” Wilder asks, sensing the shift in mood.
“Yeah,” I say a little too quickly to be believed. “I was just thinking… I don’t have internet or cell service up here. I should probably go into town at some point and check up on my blog and see if I have any missed calls from… Well, no one really callsme, but you know. I should probably let people know I didn’t disappear up here in the mountains forever.”
He freezes and doesn’t say anything for a beat.
“Right,” comes Wilder’s clipped response. He untangles himself from me, and my heart breaks a little bit.
“I didn’t mean we had to leave right now,” I tell him, pulling the sheets up to cover my bare chest. I feel vulnerable and exposed around him now that he’s not looking at me with the same warmth as a few moments ago.
“Better to get a head start. Your followers are probably missing you. Wouldn’t want to disappoint them.” Wilder doesn’t look at me; he simply pulls his clothes on and goes into the bathroom.
Shit. I messed this up, didn’t I? Or has he been looking for an excuse to get rid of me? These last few days in Wilder’s cabin have been perfect, but we never talked about what happens next. I agreed to stay one more night, but that was two nights ago. Or has it been three?
I climb out of bed and dig around for my original set of clothes that Wilder washed, dried, and folded for me. I loved his shirts, but I guess the fairy tale is over now, and I have to wear my regular uniform of jeans and a sweatshirt. I knew there was a reason I liked ghosts more than princes in my bedtime stories.
Fifteen minutes later, Wilder and I are riding down the mountain in silence. He checked my ankle one last time and grunted something about it looking a lot better. I tried talking to him a few times, but he only gave me one-word responses.
“So, thanks again,” I say for the third time since getting in his giant truck. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
Wilder nods. The stubborn ass. How did we go from sharing such an intense experience these last few days, especially this morning, how he used me so thoroughly and in the best waypossible, to this? I feel awkward, and I’m not sure how to even ask him what happened.
“When we get to my car, you could follow me into town to a cute little coffee shop I saw on my way in. I would love to buy breakfast. It’s the least I can do.”
