Page 69 of Wildflowers & Whiskey

“Oh my god,” she breathes, head falling back against the cushions.

I curl my fingers, finding that spot that makes her hips buckle. “Not God, angel. Just me.” 

Chapter Twenty Six

Maeve

I’m panting, legs shaking, completely fucked—in the literal sense.

I knew what I was coming here for, but I definitely wasn’t prepared for this. For how Wade has literally taken me apart with just his fingers and mouth alone.

I’m currently staring up at the ceiling, chest heaving, trying to process the fact that I’ve just cum three times—three times—and the cowboy currently kneeled in between my legs wants to make me cum again.

I think he might just kill me.

Death by orgasm—not a bad way to go, to be fair.

“You still with me, angel?” I can hear the cocky grin in his voice without even looking.

I manage to lift my head long enough to see that he is looking far too smug for his own good. “You're entirely too pleased with yourself.”

“Damn right I am.” He presses a kiss to my inner thigh, circling my throbbing clit. “You are drenched. All ready to take me.”

He stands, stripping down fully. My dream version of him has nothing on the real Wade. My eyes trace the curve of his biceps, taking in the detailed line work of all the tattoos covering his arms and chest. My eyes land on the head of a snake that wraps around his shoulder, coming back under his ribs and down his abdomen. The scales are all intricate dot shading work that must have taken hours, and I am in awe of how beautiful it is. I can’t help but follow it down to the end of its tail,which sits right about his right hip. Right where the V of his abs point down to the absolute weapon of a penis that is about to put me in a coma.

I suck in a deep breath as he positions himself over me, his hardness against my stomach. His hands slide up my body, the final destination being my breast, and he cups both of them.

“Fuck, these are perfect,” he rasps in my ear. He begins to kiss down my neck, to my collarbone, then meeting the same destination as his hands. Taking my pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting it. The sensation sends a tingle down my body straight to my already pulsing pussy. He then gets to work on the other one; my fingers dig into his thick, soft hair—I swear he must use salon-graded products because even my hair isn’t this soft.

I pull him back up, desperate to kiss him. Our tongues swirl around each other, and I occasionally bite his lip as he moans into my mouth. Each time I do, I am met with a hum of pleasure.

He is rubbing himself against my swollen clit, being an absolute fucking tease.

“Don’t you think I’ve been teased enough? Fuck me, Wade.” I beg.

“Only good girls get what they want. Do you think you’ve been a good girl?”

“Yes. God. Fuck me, please!” I practically shout; I need more of him, even if I have to sacrifice being conscious for it.

Wade reaches over to a side table drawer, grabbing a very large box of condoms. He either was incredibly cock sure that I’d be back for more, or he’s actually a manwhore who does this regularly. The thought causes a fit of jealousy to surge up within me, something that I shove down as quickly as it appeared—or at least try to.

“Erm, what’s with the family-sized box of condoms in the living room? A bit of a weird thing to have them lying around, isn’t it?” I had to ask. It would eat at me otherwise.

He laughs, the bastard.

“This isn’t funny Wade. I need to know.”

His calloused fingers glide down the side of my face as he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, his expression softening.

“Hey. Look at me, angel.” He waits until my eyes return to his. “I haven't been with anyone in almost a decade. These—” he shakes the box slightly "were bought today in town, because I hoped that you feel the same way about me as I feel about you.

“And how do you feel, Cowboy?” My voice comes out quiet, soft, almost sultry. Totally unintentional.

With one sudden movement, he has my arms pinned above my head, the weight of his body pressed against mine as his gaze intensifies.

“Like I'm losing my fucking mind,” he rasps, his face inches from mine. “Like I've spent twenty years keeping everyone at a distance and then you show up and wreck every wall I've built. Like I can't breathe properly when you're not around and can't think straight when you are.”

His grip on my wrists tightens slightly.