Velvet Kisses(52)

“Oh, that’s better,” I say mostly to myself as I cozy with the sheets he just warmed with his body. Plus, I’m sort of just lying on the bed like a log, enjoying the ride. It might not be a celebrated position, but it definitely has its warm and cozy merits.

“This good?” His voice is a hoarse whisper as his hips move with more urgency than before.

“This is perfect,” I eject the words like chopping an onion. It is perfect because, apparently, I am the definition of lazy sex.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he grunts out the words while digging his fingers into my hair and giving a firm tug.

My back arches in reflex to the erotic act.

Hey—maybe lying on my stomach and having my hair pulled is my thing? I had a feeling I’d discover new details about myself when I started on this journey with Wyatt, it’s just I didn’t expect to find that I’m basically an unenergetic whiner who likes to have her hair yanked now and again. This speaks volumes to so many things.

Wyatt exerts enough energy to thrust the two of us into the stratosphere. He’s panting and sweating and groaning, and good God, I’m suddenly aching to see his face. For as much as I twist and turn I only catch glimpses.

I grip the sheets and just enjoy the fact that Wyatt James, fire god, sex god, man with the walking stick for a penis is diving deep inside me, making me feel like a princess, desired, and beautiful—and I never want this amazing feeling to end. I press my bottom into him a bit. I’d like for him to at least assume I’m making an effort. I’m not really expected to make an effort, am I? And how is it that I’m the one with the sex article?

In hindsight, I’ve been coming from a place of little to no experience—prior to tonight, my vast laughable knowledge can easily be relegated as amateur hour. I have no right to even use the letters s-e-x in consecutive order. I’ve been blindly leading the masses with techniques dreamed up by my ingénue—mind you—vanilla imagination from the beginning. It’s a wonder people haven’t sued me for sexual liability. They must be stupefied when they read my-less-than innovative and perhaps dangerous-to-implement ideas. Worse yet, I bet people have been laughing at my tips all along because they know they’re not plausible. I’m the big joke on campus and didn’t even know it. I’ll have to ask Baya and Annie to verify this less than flattering theory.

Speaking of Baya, if she and Bryson rely on me as their fearless ringleader in the bedroom, then I should for sure consider taping one of my sessions with Wyatt and really show them how it’s done—sans the house fire of course. A good orgasm should never be followed by a visit from the fire department—not to mention their flashing lights really do bring all the neighbors to the yard. Before you know it, all of Hollow Brook is watching Wyatt’s fifth appendage swing like a pendulum, and a majority of the fire department finds themselves with penis envy. Not pretty.

Wyatt pumps harder and effectively evicts all residents of Hollow Brook from my mind.

The mattress shifts beneath me. With each thrust it slips further off the box spring until it eventually hits the wall, and I’m forced to grip the sheets for dear life lest gravity sends me sailing headfirst into the newly formed crevice.

“Shit!” Wyatt digs into my hips so hard, I want to cry out in pain, in sort of a good way. He seizes—gripping me with the force of ten thousand maniacs. His body throbs into mine a moment before he collapses onto my back. A sweet kiss lands on my ear. His chest is slicked with sweat, yet oddly cold to the touch, most likely from the arctic breeze whipping through the house, reminding us that we’ve managed to piss off Smokey the Bear in the dead of winter. “Did you like that?” He dots my ear with another searing kiss, and the iced air licks it as soon as he pulls away.

“Nope. I loved that.” I twist until we’re finally facing one another. “I’m sorry I was so darn useless.”

“What are you talking about?” He presses out a panting grin. “Believe me, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

I consider this a moment as we snuggle into one another. “I suppose.” Even if it is more of a technicality. I curl up into a ball as I try to press my way into his chest for warmth. “You mind if I spend the night?” Good luck kicking me out if the answer is no. I’m down one melted sequin dress, and I’ve yet to walk home in nothing but heels.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Wyatt pulls the covers to our ears, and I give an impish grin.

“Thank you.” I lean up and offer a tender kiss to this magical man who rocked the bed quite literally.