The Wrong Mr. Right (The Queen's Cove Series #2)(93)

“That’s my girl, come hard on my cock like I know you can.”

I couldn’t speak. Hot electricity shot up and down my spine and Wyatt grabbed my hand like I needed, as I squeezed him so hard I thought my walls might shove him out.

“Don’t stop,” I gasped, barely managing the words.

“I won’t,” he gritted out, and increasing the intensity of his thrusts.

“Harder.”

He obliged, pounding me into the mattress. My orgasm was still rolling through my blood, paralyzing me, holding me suspended in space, still making me forget to breathe. Still flooding me with this overwhelming pleasure as Wyatt buried himself deep into me.

“Thatta girl, baby. Oh my god.” Both hands came to my waist and he gripped me, shuttling into me.

“Use me to come,” I gasped, and his gaze flared.

“I’m going to come deep in your pussy and there’ll be no question who you belong to.” His fingers dug into my skin and the pain was delicious as his hips hammered a fast rhythm against me. “Make me come, Hannah,” he gritted out.

He choked out a strangled noise, the muscles on his arms corded and his neck tight. He frowned down at me with parted lips, shuddering. He slowed and his agonized expression eased. He leaned over me and collapsed, pinning me down, breathing hard against my neck, chest heaving against mine.

I wanted to say it. I wanted to tell him that I loved him. Bravery, I reminded myself, but something put a hand up and held me back. I didn’t want anything to spoil this moment where Wyatt and I were so connected. I was his, not just because he said it over and over again but because he made me feel like no one else.

There was too much at stake, and I couldn’t risk it.

When he slid out of me, I made an unhappy noise. His hair was messy and eyes heavy like he was drugged. He pressed a kiss to my mouth.

“Be right back. Don’t move.”

“I can’t.”

He chuckled as he trudged to the bathroom, returning with a warm, wet towel, brushing it over me in a move that would have made me embarrassed if he wasn’t giving me such an affectionate look. When he returned to bed, he pulled me against him and I hummed at the feel of his bare skin against mine.

He blew a breath out. “Holy shit, bookworm. It’s never been like that.”

My heart lifted.

This is for making me fall head over fucking heels for you. His words played in my mind.

Head over heels. That meant love, right? I’d heard once that people sometimes said ‘I love you’ during sex when they didn’t mean it, but because sex was intense and it slipped out.

There’ll be no question who you belong to.

I swallowed and let Wyatt pull me further into his chest, resting my head against his skin and closing my eyes.

It was too late. It had snuck up on me so quietly and slowly that I didn’t realize I had fallen hard for him. There was no pretending anymore, no convincing myself otherwise or distracting myself.

I was in love with Wyatt Rhodes.





27





Wyatt





Sunlight streamed in and I brushed my mouth over her nose and cheeks while she slept. Her mouth curved into a soft smile but she didn’t wake up. I shifted onto my elbow, careful not to wake her, so I could get a better look at her.

It was a week after we had slept together for the first time, and we had spent most of it either in this bed or out on the water. She had wanted to skip our morning surf lessons so I could practice but I insisted on going out on the water with her every morning, even just for an hour. I spent the rest of the day surfing, checking in at the surf shop, or hanging out at her bookshop, lounging on a comfy blue chair while she helped customers, packed up orders, or talked with Liya. In the evenings, we cuddled on the couch or in bed while she showed me those foreign music videos like the one I was in before I tossed her phone aside and pulled her to me.

Her birthday was in a few days. I had ordered a cake at the bakery—pink champagne, as per my mom’s recommendation. I had purchased something cheeky online that I was certain she didn’t own, but something was missing. I needed to find a gift that showed her she was loved.

In her sleep, she let out a soft sigh and curled closer against my chest, and I brushed her hair off her face.

Karaoke night had changed both everything, and nothing at all. She was still my Hannah, just as she had been before we tangled these sheets up and gave each other everything. She was still the same silly, quick-smiling brave Hannah she was a week ago.

I was the one who was different.

I was the one who was head over fucking heels for her.

I was in love with her. It was the last thing I ever wanted, and yet it was goddamned heaven.

“We should get up and out there,” she mumbled against my chest, eyes still closed.

“It’s the first day of Pacific Rim so we won’t be able to.” The competition had taken over the surfing beaches for the week and they were keeping the water clear of surfers except those competing.

The warmth of her bare skin against mine made my blood hum. My cock stirred the way it always did when she was around.

She made an unhappy noise and I smiled, inhaling. Her hair smelled like tea, sunlight, her bookstore, and her hair products I had insisted she keep in the shower. I didn’t mind skipping a couple days out on the water with her. It meant I could keep her in bed longer.