The Wrong Mr. Right (The Queen's Cove Series #2)(63)

I explored him with my hand, running along the length, all the way down to his sac, gripping it. He shuddered again. A bead of liquid appeared at the tip and I spread it over him.

“Fuck,” he whispered against my hair, thrusting himself into my hand. “Fuck, Hannah.” He thrust again and made a noise of pain in his throat.

I was going to take what I wanted while I had the chance. I sat up, leaned over, and took him into my mouth.

A high-pitched noise of disbelief came out of him as my lips slid over him and I moaned, as much as I could with him in my mouth. The drop that had beaded on his tip tasted a little salty, a little musky. His cock was harder than steel but the skin was so soft like velvet, and there was something so satisfying about dropping further onto him, filling my mouth up with him. I glanced up at him to see him watching me with an expression of agony, disbelief, and pleasure.

“This is my first time doing this,” I said to him, “so tell me if I’m doing it wrong.”

He shook his head slowly, mouth parted. “Not wrong. Good. So fucking good.” His chest rose and fell fast and I grinned at him before taking him again in my mouth. His eyes fell halfway closed. “Fuck, Hannah, you’re taking me so well.”

Delight shuddered through me when he said that and I bobbed up and down, running my tongue along the underside of him. He groaned.

This was fun.

“That’s my girl. Just like that, baby.” He lifted his hands to his own hair, raking it back. The muscles on his stomach tensed like they were carved from stone. I’d be thinking about this moment for a long time.

When I added suction, he pulsed in my mouth, and when I made a throaty noise of enjoyment, he gasped.

“Hannah. I’m gonna come.”

I glanced up at him while I worked him in and out of my mouth, sucking hard. “Mhm.”

He nodded hard, frowning like he was in pain, gaze locked on me. His mouth fell open and he thrust into my mouth. Hot liquid spilled all over my tongue in spurts and I listened to Wyatt’s gasps and groans as he emptied himself.

When he was done, I gave him a big grin and wiggled my eyebrows. He was still catching his breath, laying back and watching me with a funny look.

Almost like he was afraid of me.

“What’s that look for?” I snorted and he pulled me up to him, against his chest.

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

I shrugged. “Me neither. That was fun.”

“Fun.” He laughed. “Holy shit, Hannah.”

“Any notes, professor?”

He groaned and closed his eyes. “Fuck. When you call me that…”

I bit my lip and snuggled in closer to his chest. “I know.”

“You’re a fucking temptress, you know that?”

I nearly laughed. Me, a temptress? I had the sexual prowess of a caterpillar. Temptresses wore long, flowing red robes with feathers, red lipstick, lingerie, high heels. I was the girl who hid in her bookstore.

The way Wyatt looked as I was about to make him come, though, like I held total power over him? Incredible. I could be my own type of temptress. I could just be Wyatt’s temptress.

The thought made me laugh to myself. Wyatt’s. It’s yours, he had said about his body. I didn’t even know I wanted to hear that until he said it. Mine. I’d never had someone’s body to myself before. Never felt ownership over someone the way I did about Wyatt.

The thought shocked me. Wyatt wasn’t mine. He didn’t even believe in true love. He didn’t believe in forever, for Christ’s sake. A pinch of worry hit me in the stomach.

Wyatt believed in right now, though. Living in the present and enjoying what life provided. Letting things pass and move on when it was time.

So maybe I should do the same. I should enjoy this time with Wyatt, enjoy fooling around with him and learning things from him. When it was time to end, I would let it.

The thought of this ending made me want to cry, so I shoved it away. That was future Hannah’s problem. Right now, I was only concerned with the present. Like Wyatt taught me.

Wyatt squeezed his arm around my shoulders with his eyes closed, and I breathed him in, memorizing this moment.

“I need a nap,” he murmured. “I need to recover.”

I nodded, smiling. “Okay.”





It was early afternoon when we got back into town.

“Let’s grab a coffee,” Wyatt suggested, and I agreed. We parked and waited for a break in traffic before jogging across the street.

Miri Yang stood in front of the coffee shop with a stack of papers and a small group of people gathered around her. I recognized a few faces.

“…between ten and eleven at night.” Her eyes were wide and animated. “We have almost no details but we do know she’s in extreme pain.”

“She may have slipped on a hike,” Randeep Singh added behind her. He was a hiking guide for tourists. He crossed his arms over his chest. “On some of those trails out there, you take one foot off the path and you’re falling down a cliff. The way she was crying out, I’m sure she broke something.”

They noticed us standing there and Miri shoved flyers at us. “Oh, good, you two. Here, take some flyers and pass them out at your businesses.”

“What’s going on?” I glanced down at the paper and read.