Wild Temptation (Wild, #1)(98)

“You asked for it.”

I squeeze and start a new rhythm—harder, faster, tighter. My hips tilt and gyrate as I bounce on him, each time completely taking his cock inside me. His fingers grip me tighter and tighter, his body tenses harder and harder, and my own body reacts.

I tug his hair and move faster. Tyler takes my mouth in a rough kiss, and right now, it’s about the release. About the tightly coiled tension in us and between us finding its release. And it’s close—so close.

Then it’s here, crumbling on top of us both. I let go of Tyler’s hair and wrap my arms around his neck as he kisses me even harder. His arms circle my waist and he tilts his hips up so he’s firmly encased inside me as he comes.

I shudder, breaking the kiss, and bury my face in his neck. My body is racked with orgasmic spasms, making my pussy clench around his cock. He rubs his hands across my back in a random pattern that’s soothing and calming to me.

“Jesus, Liv. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispers against my skin.

“Is that good or bad?” I shiver.

“Good. Jesus, it was more than good.” He kisses my shoulder. One of his hands leaves me and he tugs the sheets from beneath us.

We roll over and he pulls out of me in the process. With one lingering kiss on my lips, he ghosts his fingers down my body and peels off my stockings and my heels. Then he throws them on the floor and joins me in bed. Swiftly, he holds me against him and the covers over us.

Moving into him is automatic. Tangling one of my legs between his and laying an arm over his side is subconscious, the same way he hooks one of his legs over mine and runs his fingers through my hair. His other hand is wrapped around my body and cupping my neck, the one thing anchoring me to him.

If only it were. If only his arm were anchoring me, grounding me, into this fucked-up relationship with him, it would be easier. If it weren’t his need to push me to limits and discover desires I didn’t know I had… If it weren’t his insistence to always put me before his wants… If it weren’t the way he looks at me, the fact that, when he smiles at me, it’s a little wider than normal, or the fact his eyes sparkle a little brighter when I touch him, it would be so much easier to live with.

It would be so much easier not to feel myself become wholly addicted to him. Right now, encased in his arms, I’m not sure I’ll be able to go another day without him touching me. I’m not sure I’ll manage twelve hours without hearing his voice.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to choose when my only choices will destroy us both.

He lets out a long, shuddery breath and holds me closer. “Don’t ask me to let you go now. Please.”

I can’t respond to that, so like the wimp I am, I pretend I’m asleep.





Lying on the bed on my stomach, with my chin propped on my hands and my legs kicking in the air behind me, I watch Tyler navigate the room with ease. He’s conveniently forgotten how to put on a T-shirt, it seems. Again.

Not that it’s a bad sight. The muscles in his back ripple as he bends over to pack his suitcase. His biceps flex, and when he stands up, he stretches up tall. The smattering of hair that runs down the center of his stomach joins with the top of his pubic hair. Hair that’s now in my view thanks to his stretch.

“Ty?”

“Yep?”

“You know how you love challenges?”

He pauses, bending at the waist, and looks at me over his shoulder. “Only if it’s you challenging me.”

“You know how you have to do it every time?”

“Where are you going with this?”

I tilt my head to the side. “I challenge you not to give me an orgasm for twenty-four hours.”

He raises his eyebrows and turns back to what he’s doing. “That won’t make sex very fun for you, then.”

“Uh, that’s not what I mean.” I sit up and run my fingers through my hair. “I challenge you not to have any kind of foreplay or sex with me for twenty-four hours.”

He stops dead, dropping the jeans he was holding. “I’m sorry, babe. You’re going to have to repeat that. I’m pretty sure I just heard you challenge me not to have sex with you for twenty-four hours, but that can’t be right.”

My lips twitch. “You heard me right.”

He straightens and grabs the rest of his things from the bathroom. He puts them in the zip pocket on the lid of his suitcase then closes it. The buzzing noise of him zipping it up fills the almost tense silence in the room.

“Twenty-four hours?” he repeats. “No sex? No orgasm? No foreplay?”

“Twenty-four hours with no sex,” I confirm. “Think you can do it?”