Wyatt continues to work me hard. “You’re so hot, baby. Do you want me to taste you?” he questions, allowing me to decide. “Or I can just do this?” He takes the icing that is in the bowl and spreads it across my chest.
I watch as he licks it from me, moaning as he moves his face, lapping up every bit of the icing. His fingers pump harder and it becomes too much. The cold from the table, the sound of his pleasure, the way his finger curls, the heat of his tongue, and the smell of sweetness mixed with Wyatt.
My senses are overloaded.
I let go and allow the pleasure to be all I focus on.
“You taste even sweeter now.” His tongue slides against my skin. “I could do this all night. Feel your body against mine, listen to the noises you make, smell how fucking hot I make you. You’re going to bring me to my knees, baby.”
“Yes.” My eyes slam shut.
“You like that?” He fills me deep. “You want more?”
“Yes!” I pant.
I want it all. I want him. I want to lose myself with him, but he’s holding back.
Wyatt pumps his fingers in and out as he latches on to my breast. He sucks and bites, causing my pleasure to spike higher.
“I’m gonna come!” I yell as he rubs faster against my clit.
“Let it go, Angie. Let me make you feel good.”
“Wyatt!” I cry as my orgasm rakes through me. His mouth is on mine, swallowing my sounds. I kiss him with everything I am.
His fingers draw out the last of my orgasm, our kiss turning lazy and slow.
My arms are wrapped around his neck, and we both keep our foreheads against each other. “That was . . .”
He chuckles. “Long overdue?” I smile as he kisses me again. “We should clean up. We need to get some sleep, and you should get dressed before I attempt round two.”
I raise my brow, thinking maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing.
Wyatt shakes his head. “Don’t worry, Angel. I plan to do that again real soon. As soon as you realize how much you really want me.”
Then he does the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. He dips his finger in the bowl of icing, and licks it clean. “Mmm.” He grins. “Angie and icing. I found my new favorite flavor.”
Yeah. I might have just come again.
He helps dress me, which is sweet and somewhat disappointing. I notice the large bulge in his pants and feel bad. “I can help you with that,” I offer.
Wyatt looks down, and then his face grows serious. “When we go there again, it’s going to be because you have feelings above the fact that we have amazing sex. It’s going to be about you and me, and what we’re buildin’ here. I want you.” He kisses me. “I want you more than anything. But not when you’re holding back, and not when you’re feelin’ guilty because I gave you the best orgasm of your life.”
“Umm,” I laugh. “Little full of yourself?”
“You’ll be full of me soon.”
“Oh, God.”
“You can call me Wyatt.”
I bust out laughing. “You need Jesus.”
He kisses my nose and pats my ass. “Maybe so, but we need to get to work.”
We both look around at the spilled batter, no longer usable icing, and mess. “I really hope at least some of this is edible.”
“You own a bakery, Ang. I’m sure it’s great.”
Wyatt walks over to me and hands me a cupcake. “Try it.”
“Why don’t you try it first?” I bat my eyes.
“Now, that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me.” Wyatt lets his deep Southern drawl seep through. I have to say how much I really love it. It’s sexy and so different. Kind of like how most American women would drop their panties for a British or Australian accent. There’s something about it that makes me get all stupid.
Wyatt extends the cupcake toward me again.
I have no clue if this is going to be good. I figure he should really take one for the team. Then I glance at his still prominent erection and realize he already has. It’s really the least I can do.
I take a bite. “Holy crap!” I exclaim. “This is freaking good! It’s actually good!”
“Of course it is.”
“No.” I push away. “I suck. I’m not the baker by any means. I know it’s kind of insane since I own a bakery, but I’ve always let Presley or the bakers do it. But this . . . this is really good, Wyatt!”
My entire day is made. I did this. I created our signature cupcake and didn’t screw up. I don’t know if the rest of them are bad, but this one is good so I’m going to pretend they all taste the same.
I start to dance around a little, and he captures me in his arms, hoisting me against his chest. “I’m proud of you. You did something really nice for my mama’s friend.”