Chapter 26: The Wrong Mr. Right: Chapter 26

WYATT’S HAND seared my skin the entire way home, resting on my bare leg above the knee across the front seat of the car. My window was down and my hair whipped around. The breeze was welcome against my warm face. Inside my shoes, my toes wiggled with anticipation.

Wyatt and I were totally going to have sex.

I swallowed, bit back my nervous grin, and shot a sidelong glance at him. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel but other than that, he was cool and calm.

Of course he was. He’d had sex tons of times. Probably hundreds.

Me? Three. Three times. Three sub-par, disappointing times with a guy I didn’t care about, who didn’t care about me.

I blew a breath out.

“How ya doing, bookworm?”

I nodded and met his gaze. Concern, with hunger in the background, subdued. Like he was holding it back.

I was about to tell him I was fine, but something didn’t want me to lie to him. It was Wyatt. He had slowly become something more to me. My stomach flopped and I bit my lip again.

“I’m nervous.”

For a second, panic streaked through me at the possibility that we were on different pages. Maybe he had no intention of taking me home and us going all the way. He glanced between me and the road and his hand moved up to cover mine. He gave me a quick squeeze that made my heart skip.

“Me, too.”

“You are? Why?”

A rueful smile passed over his face. “It’s you, Hannah. It’s different.”

His words made my heart beat harder, and a few beats were just for him. He pulled the car onto his street and parked in his driveway. We both stayed seated and he turned to me.

“We don’t have to do anything.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as his throat worked. He watched my expression carefully. “We can go inside and hang out or read or go straight to sleep.” He lifted a shoulder. “Or I can take you home if you don’t want to stay here again.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to go home.” I took a deep breath and summoned that bravery thing I had been practicing all night. “And I don’t want to go to sleep yet, but I do want to go to bed.”

Wyatt’s gaze turned hungry and his jaw clenched. “Nice line.”

I snorted. “I thought so.” I glanced down at his lap. His erection strained against the fabric. The sight of it, the physical proof of his attraction to me, made me ache between my legs for him.

Wyatt wanted me, and I wanted him. When I put it that way, it was so simple.

I leaned over the front seat and kissed him. He kissed me back, pressing gentle kisses to my mouth. Slow kisses. Too slow. Too chaste.

I tasted him and the slow glide of my tongue against his pulled a noise of disbelief and pleasure from his chest. One of his hands came to my hair and the gentle pull against my scalp sent sparks down my spine.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” I said against his mouth in between kisses and he laughed silently, his breath tickling my face.

“I didn’t know you were in such a rush.” His voice was so low and teasing, it made my nipples pinch.

I broke our kiss and skimmed my lips down his neck, reveling in the way his breath caught. I gently nipped his earlobe. “I want you.”

He lifted me out of my seat and on top of him, straddling his lap. My dress was high on my thighs but I didn’t care. I dropped my lips to his and kissed him hard. He wasn’t so sweet and slow and chaste anymore. His mouth devoured mine, one big hand wrapped around the back of my neck, anchoring me towards him and down onto his lap. I shifted my hips and his hard length made perfect contact with my center. My mouth made a silent O as the sensation made me arch my back. Wyatt’s other hand squeezed my ass and he pulled my bottom lip between his teeth.

“Hannah, you make me lose my fucking mind when you say things like that,” he rasped.

My hands threaded through his hair and tugged lightly. His hand tensed on my ass and pulled me closer against him. His tongue worked my mouth with urgency, like we were running out of time, and with his grip on my hair, he tilted me whichever way he wanted. Whichever way he needed. I shivered.

“I love it when you use my mouth like you own it,” I whispered.

His arousal pulsed between my legs and I moaned into his mouth. He broke our kiss and leaned back to look at me with dark eyes. His chest rose and fell with heavy breathing, like mine.

“I take care of what’s mine.”

Wetness flooded my underwear at the hot, possessive tone of his words. I wanted to be his, more than anything. He slipped his hand down the front of my dress and rubbed one sensitive peak. I arched and bucked my hips against him and a loud honking noise made both of us jump.

I had pushed against the car horn.

We took one look at each other and burst out laughing. The driveway was dark but a light turned on outside a neighbor’s house.

“Come on, bookworm.” Wyatt opened the car door and stood, supporting my weight with one hand on my ass and the other around my lower back. My arms looped around his neck. He hip-checked the car door closed, and I set my mouth on his again, tasting him and tugging at his hair, pulling those groans of pleasure and agony out of his throat.

At the front door, instead of opening it, he pressed me against it and ground his hips against mine. My eyes rolled back at the sharp, delicious pressure of his length against my clit.

“Holy shit,” I breathed into his mouth. “Wyatt.”

“Like that?” He ground his hips again and I jerked a nod. He found a rhythm that made my head fall against his shoulders and my breath thin and shuddery. My dress hitched up around my waist and his jeans brushed my inner thighs. He thrust his erection against my soaking center, scattering my thoughts.

“I’m going to make you come over and over again tonight,” he gritted against my ear.

Heat pooled low in my belly and I could barely hold on. My head fell back against the door and I took in his focused frown, the clenched of his jaw, the heat in his eyes. He wanted me and it only made me ache more.

“Wyatt,” I bit out.

He shook his head but kept thrusting. “I’m going to sink my cock into your tight little pussy like I’ve been thinking about for months and I’m going to fuck you like you deserve.”

My eyes widened as I realized what the tightening in my center meant. “Wyatt.” I nodded.

“Tell me what you need, like we practiced.”

“Like that. Just like that.” I moaned and leaned my forehead on his shoulder, closing my eyes and holding on to him.

“Look at me while you come for me.”

I pulled my head up and met his gaze. I winced as pleasure, heat, pressure, and electricity tightened my body. All I could do was nod. Yes, yes, yes, I said with my nods to him.

He kept rocking a hard rhythm against me and I was so close. Right on the edge. Teetering. “I’m going to taste your pussy again and again until you scream my name and pull my hair, because that’s what I need, baby. I need to taste you again.”

That did it. My whole body shook against his as I came, paralyzed and screaming silently against his neck as pleasure raced through me, boiled my blood, and scrambled my thoughts. Wave after wave hit me and my hips bucked against his. Far away, he groaned yes and like that and fucking beautiful and good girl into my ear.

When he had wrung me out, my head fell back against the door and a slow, satisfied smile crept over his face. He grinned a lazy grin down at me. His eyes were still dark. His throat worked as he set me down carefully, one arm wrapping around me and one hand on my waist.

I slumped against his shoulder. “Wow. We haven’t even gotten inside.”

His chest shook with laughter as he unlocked the door, squeezing me to his side.

“I have to say, professor,” I told him as we stepped inside and kicked our shoes off. My pulse was still beating in my ears and my lungs heaved to get enough air. “You’re so dedicated to a well-rounded curriculum.”

His head lowered and he brushed his lips against the sensitive skin between my neck and shoulder. “I take my role very seriously.”

I tilted his face to mine and kissed him. He straightened up and I had to crane my neck to keep eye contact.

“I love that you tower over me,” I whispered against his mouth as he backed me up toward the hallway, en route to his room.

“Yeah? Well, I like how small you are. You fit right under my arm.” His arm came around me and he tugged my dress zipper down. My fingers found his shirt buttons and fumbled at them. “You think you’ll fit me everywhere?” The teasing, dark tone of his voice made my center clench.

I nodded and it was like the orgasm I just had never happened. I was wet again, ready again, wanting more. Wanting all of him.

We stepped into his room, hands working fast to undress each other. He slipped my dress off my shoulders and it pooled at my feet. I lagged behind, with only a few of his buttons undone. He pulled me against him, slid one bra cup down and slipped a stiff nipple into his mouth. I gasped. The buttons of his shirt were on the opposite side to what I was used to and the tug of his mouth on my nipple made my mind dizzy.

“Come on, catch up.” His finger rolled the other peak and I whimpered.

“I’m trying.” A futile laugh escaped me, and my head fell back.

He took mercy on me and undid his buttons, never taking his mouth from my breast. I pushed the shirt off his shoulders and roamed his hard chest, brushing the light chest hair and scraping my nails up his abs. The muscles jumped under my touch, and he shuddered against me before pushing me back onto the bed.

My bra had come off at one point—was that me or Wyatt?—and I laid there in my underwear.

Wyatt loomed over me, placing a hand on either side of me on the bed, hovering and watching like a predator. His gaze traveled over my nearly naked form and desire flashed in his eyes. He wanted me. Something hungry and excited fluttered in my stomach.

“Look at you, laying on my bed like a fucking goddess.” He leaned down to suck one pinched peak into his mouth and I arched against his mouth.

“Take your pants off,” I gasped.

“Slow down.” He kissed up my chest to my neck and his fingers toyed with the edge of my underwear, below my stomach. “I’m not done with you. If I slip my fingers lower, am I going to find you wet?”

I nodded.

He made a noise of satisfaction. “Good girl.” He slowly, so painfully slowly slid his hand into my underwear, and when he touched me, I whimpered.

“Very, very good.” He swirled light circles on my clit and I gripped his arms, my nails digging into his muscles as he wound me tighter.

“Look at you, doing so well.” His gaze was full of pride, satisfaction, and need. “You know that if you let me do my work, you’re going to come. Isn’t that right?”

I nodded, chest heaving.

“Mhm. That’s what I thought.” His fingers worked and my inner walls tightened. It wasn’t enough. It was so, so good, so deliriously good, but it wasn’t enough. My hips bucked against his hand for more pressure. “What is it, baby?”

“More.”

“More what?” His voice was teasing. He knew. He fucking knew it wasn’t enough and he toyed with me, but a sick part of me kind of liked that.

I nodded hard. “More. More everything.” I reached for his cock, straining against his jeans and he groaned as I stroked his hard length. “I want to come on your cock. I want to feel you come while you’re inside me.”

He laughed a dark laugh against my neck. “Ohhhh, you are in trouble now.” His fingers swirled faster. Heat built low in my belly and I arched again. “This is for being brave tonight and going up on stage. Do you know how fucking proud you made me up there, baby?”

Faster, faster, faster his fingers moved and my head fell back. His cock pulsed under my grip and I moaned. He added pressure to my clit and his other hand came to my breast, pulling and rolling and pinching the tight bud.

“Wyatt,” I gasped.

“That’s for scaring me and hitting your head the other day.” His voice was rough and his hand worked faster. He shifted back onto his knees while I writhed on the bed. He studied me with an intense look, focused and watching where his hands touched me. He slipped a finger inside me and I bucked, cried out, and nodded for more.

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah? That’s for being so fucking gorgeous and making me hard all the time.” He slid the finger in and out, stretching me. My walls tightened around it. He shook his head in awe. “Holy shit, baby, you are squeezing the life out of my finger.” He added a second and I moaned.

The heat coiled around the base of my spine and I was a puppet, strung along by Wyatt as he controlled my body and pushed me toward what I needed.

The second finger added the fullness I needed and I winced with pleasure.

“This?” He curled his fingers and hit that sensitive spot inside. “This is for making me fall head over fucking heels for you.” He massaged the spot on the front wall and my mouth fell open. My body bowed, bucked, arched under his touch. One of my hands clenched the duvet, the other gripped his strong thigh.

“Yeah, Hannah?” His tone was light but his voice rasped like sandpaper. “Is that the spot? Is that the spot that’s going to make you come harder than you ever have?”

I nodded. “There. That. Like that.”

“Just like that, huh? Fucking hell, bookworm, you make me want to sink into your sweet little body and fuck the life out of you. Say my name again, just the way I like it.”

“Wyatt,” I breathed. The combination of his curled fingers and his other hand swirling on my clit was hurtling me towards another orgasm. Any second.

He leaned down licked my wetness, sucking at my clit and pulling it into his lips, and his groan was what did it. My thighs clenched around his head as I came, my skin hot and cold all over and my body belonging a hundred percent to him as I jerked and chanted yes and Wyatt and like that over and over again. He made encouraging noises in his throat like he loved my taste and couldn’t get enough, and his tongue slid over my clit again and again as I squeezed his fingers with my muscles.

I floated back down to earth with a sigh.

“You’re such a good girl.” His voice was so gentle, so proud and it slid over me like satin. His hands came to his belt and I watched, fascinated, as he slid his belt out. He saw me shiver and he smiled. He moved to standing and when his pants and boxers came off, my mouth automatically dropped at the sight of his hard cock. A bead of liquid appeared on the tip and my mouth watered with the memory of him in my mouth, groaning and gripping my hair.

Using me.

I flushed with warmth and bit my lip.

He shook his head. “When you look at me like that, Hannah, you make me fucking crazy.” He fisted his cock and my eyes widened as he stroked himself while watching me. “You like watching me do this?”

I nodded.

He grinned and bit his lip, head tilting back. He let go and headed to his nightstand, opening the drawer and pulling out a foil packet.

“No.” I said it before I thought about it. “I don’t want to use a condom.”

His hands froze. “What?”

“I’m on the pill,” I breathed.

“I’ve never gone without a condom before.” His eyebrows knitted together and he looked so torn.

“So it’s safe then, right?” I nodded at him. “Please, Wyatt, I—” My voice broke off. Brave, I reminded myself. “I don’t want anything in between us.”

The packet fell to the floor. He looped his hands under my knees and jerked me to the edge of the bed before sliding his length up and down my center, dragging the tip through my wet heat and over my clit. He watched where we connected with fascination. I reached for him, encircling him with my fingers and stroking and he watched, his gaze flicking between my hand and my face. He pulsed in my hand.

He paused and his throat worked. His jaw was tight. “You sure about this, bookworm? We don’t have to keep going. We can take a pause.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to pause. I want you to come inside me. I want you to make me yours.”

His nostrils flared and he pulled one of my legs up so it draped over his shoulder. “You’re already mine. Do you need a reminder?”

I nodded eagerly and he shook his head, groaning.

He edged himself inside me. He was so much bigger than his fingers and I whimpered as I stretched around him. He watched my face closely with dark eyes as he slid further, his thickness making my back arch again.

“Fuck, Hannah. You are tight as fuck. So fucking wet for me.”

“You keep making me come,” I gasped.

“Yeah, I do.” A devilish, lazy grin passed his features and he slid further.

“Keep going,” I breathed.

“You’re fucking ruining me, you know that?” He pulled my other leg up so it draped over his shoulder and sunk further into me. My eyes fell halfway closed as he filled me.

He bottomed out and I moaned.

I didn’t know sex could be like this, so all-consuming and primal and necessary.

He pressed a soft kiss to my calf while he let my body adjust to his size. “You’re clenching me.” His throat worked again and he inhaled through his nose.

I rippled around him and he groaned, fingers digging into my waist. He slowly inched out and filled me back up again, making my back bend. He shook his head.

“Not going to last long,” he rasped. “Fuck, I love that our first time is like this. I love fucking you bare.” He slid out and thrust in a little harder this time and I whimpered.

The noise triggered something in his gaze and he reached for a pillow, hoisting up my hips and slipping the pillow underneath to prop my hips up.

“What does—” I started but he slid back into me and the way his cock pushed against my inner walls, it turned the dial up to maximum. My vision blurred. “Holy shit.”

His dark laugh went straight to my core. My face twisted into an expression of holyshitwhattthefuckohmygodyesyesyesmorelikethisfuckyes.

“Are we going to come tonight, Hannah?” Wyatt breathed and I gasped as he kept hitting that spot.

His fingers returned to my clit and he didn’t bother teasing me, just moved his fingers fast and hard over the bundle of nerves. Everything inside me tightened, shimmered, and boiled. He hit an angle inside me that made me mindless.

“That’s right,” he managed. “I’m going to come inside you and it’s going to feel so. Fucking. Incredible.” He thrust hard with each word and my orgasm barreled through me. I moaned, my hips shook, and he fucked me harder.

“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.