Page 110 of Homebound

“I like you any way. Really, this is just an excuse to get you naked.” He deepens the kiss, reaching behind me to turn up the heat knob.

“Okay, but you better get the job done fast, cowboy,” I murmur into his lips. “Lana’s picking me up for dinner in ten minutes, and I promised her I’d go. I’m not canceling on her again.”

He yanks down my workout shorts. “Fast and furious, got it.”

“You did not just compare sex with me to a movie.”

“Fine. Quick and dirty, then. Turn around, put your hands on the wall, and spread those pretty legs for me. I want to see all of you.”

Bossy Wyatt might be my favorite Wyatt.

Heat blazes through me. He gets me naked and rips off his own clothes in record time, all the while watching me with a ravenous gaze, eyes bright with anticipation. That hungry look always winds me up, makes my body taut with a need only he can release.

Wyatt has sex like every time is the last time—intense, vigorous, insatiable. Like he might never do this again. He doesn’t just make me feel good, he makes me feel precious.

Once he’s naked, hard, and ready for me, he spins me around and pushes me into the wooden shower slats before sliding into me. There’s a height difference, so he has to bend his legs, but he makes it work. I moan into the sunset sky when he reaches a spot deep inside. “Oh my fuck. Why does it feel better every time?”

He bites my shoulder, rolling his hips against my ass. “I don’t know, honey, but I can’t stop. Christ, you feel so fucking good.”

For a few seconds, we’re slow, tender, but the needy ache eventually sweeps us both away until Wyatt’s pumping into me so hard the wooden slats are shaking. I’m crying out, my entire body burning in the cool water.

He reaches around to pinch my nipple, and all that does is make my clit ache for his fingers, but he doesn’t touch me there, not yet.

“Put your leg on that wooden stool for me,” he commands. “I want to go deeper.”

With one foot on the shower floor and the other hitched on the wooden stool, Wyatt’s able to push so deep inside me that my eyes roll back a little. He’s ruined me, which suits me just fine since there’s no one else I want. When he reaches around and starts circling my clit while rubbing my nipple, I nearly come apart right then.

“Not yet,” he commands, pinching my center a little too hard to stop me from shattering. “Wait for me. I want to come with you.”

“I can’t,” I whimper.

“You can.” He smiles wickedly into my neck, rolling his hips tantalizingly slow. “If I can wait ten years to have you like this, you can wait ten seconds to come on my cock.”

He kisses me then from behind, holding me tight like he’s worried I’ll fall to the ground if he lets me go. I just might. The feeling of him throbbing inside me, the way we’re connected, the way he’s biting my shoulder to control himself while I’m screaming into the sky, there’s no turning back from this.

Our bodies, our hearts, they’re puzzle pieces.

I can’t believe I got this lucky, to have a man my family loves, who makes me laugh, who supports my dreams, and goes down on me every chance he gets. People would be jealous as hell if they ever knew how amazing he was, but he’s mine.

All mine.

The water cascades over us, mixing with the sweat and heat of our bodies, drenching us both. It makes his fingers glide effortlessly as he circles my clit, and when he moves deeper inside me, he hits that furthest, most sensitive part.

I almost break. “Oh fuck, I’m close.”

“I know. I can feel you,” he grunts, picking up his pace. “Me too. You make me so damn needy.”

His hips slam into me, driving deep with each thrust, and I lift my head, gazing at the sunset through the mist of the shower. Wyatt’s movements match the rhythm of my heartbeat until his circles on my center become harder, faster, and my moans turn to cries of ecstasy.

“Yes, Wyatt. Don’t stop. Please.”

He bites my neck. “I love it when you moan my name. Scream it again for me.”

I do.

And again, and again, and again.

Until I hear footsteps crunch on the grass.