Moira Rogers: Wilder's Mate

His cock jerked like she’d licked him, and he turned his head far enough to meet her second kiss head-on, opening his mouth under hers. He swallowed her tiny little moan, and for a moment she seemed shy. Her tongue darted along his lower lip, then returned to stroke deeper, teasing against his.

He moved before he realized it, rolling them both and pinning her to the bed. “I’m not a boy. You know that, right?”

A short, jerky nod, and she wet her lips. “You’re not just a man, either. I know that too.” No fear, and he trembled at the thought of being able to let go. Really let go. “No, not a man, either.” She craned her head up and kissed his chin, then the corner of his lips. “I will enjoy your attentions.

Even if you wish to bind me, or order me to my knees, or take me across yours.”

“Shh.” Right now, there was only one thing he wanted to do. He slid one hand into her hair and tilted her head back, opening her mouth wider so he could kiss her deeply.

There was nothing quiet about her moan this time. Her fingers found the back of his head, clutching at him as if she could pull him closer. She reacted more quickly than he thought she would, melting under him.

He trailed his mouth to her neck and collarbone. “What if I do something else entirely? Will you like that?”

“I won’t know until you do it.” Her fingers stroked down to his shoulder, exploring with unabashed curiosity. “I like an adventure. And learning new things.”

“If what I have planned for you is new, you’ve been bedding the wrong men.” Her bare shoulder lifted in a shrug, but her voice held a soft vulnerability. “They found me pleasant enough to tumble. Perhaps I didn’t inspire them. None of them had seen me in my fancy hair and expensive dress, after all.”

“Like I said…” He skimmed one hand down her side and gathered her sheer gown high on her leg.

“You’ve been bedding the wrong men.”

She laughed and bent one knee, sliding her foot along his calf. “Perhaps. So how do you intend to prove that you’re the right man?”

“I could.” His fingertips tickled over the top of her thigh. “Spread your legs.” No hesitation at all. She opened for him with a quiet, eager noise, her hips lifting toward his hand.

“And here I was, certain you’d want to see my breasts first. You seem so fond of them.”

“I know how to take my time.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Are you going to take me?” Wilder slipped his hand under her gown, between her legs. “You mean am I going to fuck you?”

“Yes, are you—” A gasp, and her fingers clutched at the back of his head until her nails pricked his scalp. “I don’t have—I didn’t br-bring anything…”

Of course she’d be concerned about a child. “I won’t put my dick inside you.” Instead, he rubbed two fingers against her and groaned at her slick wetness.

Her breath hitched in and came out as a quiet moan, so sweet and innocent it made the words that followed unimaginably dirty. “You can put your cock anywhere you like as long as you don’t come in my cunt.”

He delved deeper, slipping one finger into her. “What about my tongue?”

“Where do you want to put it?”

Wilder grinned. “Where will you let me?”

Satira’s eyes fluttered shut. One heel dug against the bed, pushing her hips up and forcing his finger deeper. “If you keep doing that, I’ll let you put it anywhere.”

He leaned over her so his mouth was close to her ear. “You want me to fuck you with my fingers while I tease you with my tongue?”

She turned her head so fast their foreheads bumped together and kissed him, hungry and desperate, and Wilder didn’t need an answer.

She liked kissing him, and he knew he could get her off plenty fast. He guided her tongue into his mouth and thrust a second finger inside her. Wet as she was, she was tight too, gripping his fingers as she made low, pleased noises against his mouth.

He forced himself to lift his head. “Nice and easy, right?” Moans turned to a whimper of protest as she dragged him back. “Don’t be careful with me. Want me.” And that was the heart of it, simple. Primal. Everything that excited him would do the same to her because what she really needed was to be needed.

Wilder pulled his hand away and sat up. “Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?” Wildly dyed red hair fell around her face in a tousled mess as she pushed up to her elbows, looking flushed and debauched with her gown falling from her shoulder and her breasts all but visible through the flimsy, clinging fabric. “Tell me.” Not a command. A plea.

He brushed the hair back from her face. “I see a beautiful woman who thinks she’s plain. But you’re not, Satira. You’re gorgeous, and your body could melt a man in his boots.”

“I don’t want to melt a man,” she replied, nothing more than a whisper. “I want to melt you.” She had been, since the moment he’d dragged her out of the busted lift. “Then kiss me again.” The darkness couldn’t hide her trembling as she rose to her knees and hooked one arm around his neck. Her body pressed close, rubbing silk against his naked skin as she kissed him.

He kissed her until the blood pounded in his ears and she clutched at him hungrily. Then he tilted her back to the bed and distracted her with a quick nip at her throat and a tease of his fingers as he slid down her body.

Arousal made her shameless. Her fingers twisted in her flimsy nightgown and eased it up until it pooled around her hips. Wilder urged her legs apart and lay on the bed between them. “Relax.” She lifted her hips, straining up toward him in silent yearning, and he pressed her down to the bed. By the time he let her come, she’d be begging. “Touch your breasts.” Her eyes widened, but she obeyed, bringing both hands to stroke along the curves barely hidden by her nightgown, circling closer and closer to the peaked nipples without ever touching them.

He wrapped his hand around the inside of her thigh and watched her. “Your nipples. Pinch them, just a little.”

This time she inched her gown lower, off one shoulder until the strap lay tangled around her elbow and nothing protected her pale skin. Not from his gaze and not from her fingers. She gasped as her fingers closed on the tight bud, then caught his gaze. “How would you touch them? Harder?”

He shook his head and licked her hip, determined to seduce her with his words as much as his touch.

“I’d make them wet with my tongue.”

Without tearing her eyes from his, she lowered her hand until her fingertips brushed his lips. He closed his mouth around them, watching her as he sucked her fingers gently.

She liked it, that was beyond doubt. Her teeth sank into her lower lip but couldn’t hold back her sweet little yearning whimper. After a moment her hips twisted, testing his grip.

Wilder held her still and released her fingers. “I’m going to put my mouth on you now.”

“Oh…” This time her fingers brushed his hair, tangling in the short length as she whispered one more trembling word. “ Please .”

He parted her with his fingers. She was wet already, slick with passion, and he teased the tip of his tongue slowly over her folds. “Scream if you need to. Don’t hold back.”

“Please, Wilder…” Her voice had gone husky and low, and her body moved restlessly, as if she couldn’t hold herself still. “It’s been so long since a man touched me. Waiting is a torment. Help me come, please help me…”

Fast wasn’t his style, not like this, but he drew the flat of his tongue over her in a slow, firm lick.

“Right now?”

“Yes!” Not quite a scream, but a satisfying exclamation.