The Wrong Mr. Right (The Queen's Cove Series #2)(58)

“I trust you.”

God, those words. I trust you. I groaned.

She sighed. “I need to come. I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

My control broke. If that was what she needed, I would be her faithful servant. I’d do it well, too. I’d make her come harder than she ever had with her hand between her legs, late at night, all by herself. I’d make her remember me, even when she was madly in love with some other guy and I was on the other side of the world, thinking about her.

I yanked the zipper down on her sleeping bag and pulled her against me. Our legs tangled. She wasn’t wearing pants. My hand came to her hip again. She was in a t-shirt and tiny lacy panties that made me feel like I could come by her breathing on my cock.

I looked into her eyes. “You want to come?”

She nodded.

“Come here.” I pulled her mouth to mine.

Her mouth was soft. Sweet, shy, a little curious, like her. I was slow with her, tangling my fingers in her silky hair, stroking her scalp as I kissed her slow and soft. I knew this feeling, too. Kissing Hannah was wading into the water every morning. Her mouth both gave me relief and turned up my need for more.

She nipped my lip with her teeth and rubbed against me. Her thigh brushed my cock.

“Hannah, fuck.”

She laughed. She fucking laughed against my mouth. Here I was, trying to take it slow with this perfect woman and she was teasing me.

“Fine,” I told her. “You want to come? I’ll make you come so hard you see stars, bookworm.”

I fisted her hair and pulled her head back to open her, dipping my tongue inside and tasting her. She moaned as I slid against her tongue and my cock swelled.

“Do you like that?” My other hand came to her jaw. “Do you like it when I take control?”

She nodded with a whimper and sucked on my tongue.

Fuck. I was done. I was so done.

My hand slid from her jaw down until I found one pinched nipple through her bra. She whimpered again as I rolled it, rubbed it, teased it.

“I hope you’re taking notes.”

She nodded against my mouth. Her hands were in my hair, and the pads of her fingers rubbed my scalp. Tingles shot down my neck.

“Are you warm enough?”

She nodded again. “Your skin is so warm, and I have socks on.”

I laughed. “You still have your socks on?”

I felt her shy grin against my mouth. “I read that women had a better chance of having an orgasm if they were wearing socks.”

My chest shook with laughter. “Okay, well, we keep your socks on, then.” With my hand still in her hair, I pulled her back to me and kissed her more. “I don’t think you’ll need them tonight, though.” My other hand moved to her other nipple and she whimpered again.

“I like that,” she breathed.

Jesus fucking Christ. That breathy tone had heat coiling around the base of my spine.

I tugged on the bottom of her t-shirt. “Off.”

She pulled it over her head. I reached around and unhooked the back of her bra before tossing it aside.

I licked one of those perfect, pinched nipples and she arched against me, panting.

I sucked and she cried out. I grinned against her breast, my hands all over her skin. I couldn’t get enough of her softness and warmth.

It was too late. The wave swept me under and my control was shot. We were doing this.

“Wyatt,” she breathed, and I groaned. The way she said my name, it was pornographic, generous, sweet, desperate, needy, and grateful. All in a single word out of those fucking gorgeous lips.

My hands clutched her hips as my mouth worked her tits. “Are you wet yet, baby?”

She moaned her acknowledgement.

“Good. Don’t let anyone fucking touch you between your legs until you’re soaking wet. Do you understand?”

She nodded again, her eyes glazed and her lips parted. My dick was so hard it was going to puncture the air mattress.

This wasn’t like me, this territorial, needy, lust-driven psycho. Hannah made me want to stake my claim, though. I wanted to be her first orgasm with a partner. I wanted her to remember me every time she came and compare every orgasm for the rest to her life to the one I was about to give her.

I wanted to be the best. A decade from now, I wanted her to shudder when she thought about tonight, and crave me like I craved her.

I skimmed my hands down her torso, down her stomach and hips, slow enough that she knew what I was doing. I watched her the entire time, watching for any hesitation, ready to stop the second she tensed up, but it never came. She only looked at me with wonder and lust.

Fuck, I loved the way she looked at me.

Over her underwear, I pressed my fingers to her heat and nearly blacked out.

“Fucking hell, you are so wet.” Her underwear was damp. I pulled it aside and slid my fingers over her wet folds. Her head fell back.

I grazed her clit. My other hand had made its way beneath her ass.

“Look at me.”

She lifted her head and those gorgeous eyes were full of lust. I was driving her mad, and I loved it.

“You’re going to watch while I make you come. Understand?”

She nodded and bit her bottom lip.

“Good. Good girl.”

She shivered when I called her that and another wave of need hit me.