: Chapter 21

“You look like you’re thinking something very inappropriate right now.”

“That happens a lot when you’re around.” I stood as Sloane returned from the ladies’ room and took her hand. “Dance with me anyway.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

The evening had been perfect. I’d taken her to my favorite restaurant, we’d shared a delicious meal, and now I pulled her into my arms and rested my cheek against hers as we swayed to live music. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look?”

“I think three times.”

I spun us around. “Must be true then.”

“Thank you for the dress. But I have my suitcase and could’ve worn the one I was going to wear to the wedding.”

I’d gone shopping after dropping her off this morning. This time, I didn’t even call Emily, my personal shopper. I went to the department store all by myself, though I did get some help from a saleswoman when it came to matching shoes. I wasn’t sure what the hell had come over me lately. Maybe I was losing my mind, but I wanted to do everything for Sloane—buy her things, drive her places, cook for her. Hell, when I’d shown up at her hotel room earlier this afternoon and she was still getting ready, I’d wanted to brush her hair for her. Normally I didn’t even want to make my own coffee, so it was completely out of character for me.

“I like doing things for you.”

She looked up into my eyes. “You really do, don’t you?”

I shrugged. “No fucking idea why. But I do. I can’t remember the last time I picked out my own underwear, yet I want to dress you from head to toe. Is that weird?”

She smiled. “Yes. But it’s also very sweet.”

“What did I tell you about thinking I’m sweet?”

“You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think you are sweet, but you don’t want people to know it.”

“Oh yeah? Would you like me to tell you what I was thinking about when you were walking back from the ladies’ room?”

“What?”

I slid my hand to her delicate neck and stroked my thumb up and down the front. “The gurgling sound you’ll make when I stick my dick down your throat and don’t let you breathe.”

Sloane gasped. “Oh my God.”

I grinned. “Not so sweet then, eh?”

She moved her mouth to my ear. “I don’t know. I haven’t tasted it yet.”

I groaned. “Every single time I’ve danced with you, from that very first wedding, I’ve had a hard-on.”

“I know. Because you don’t leave room for Jesus.”

“I don’t know what it is about you, but there isn’t room for air between us.”

We danced from one song into the next, enjoying a moment of comfortable silence. I didn’t think I’d ever felt so content. But the lady in my arms must have been doing more than enjoying the moment. Sloane shifted to look at me. “Thank you for being persistent.”

“I don’t think I had a choice, sweetheart. I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

Her face turned serious. “You make me nervous, Wilder.”

“Right back at ya, sweetheart. There’s never been a time in my life when I wasn’t trying to get somewhere. When I started playing rugby, I wanted to play in college. When I got to college, I wanted to play in the pros. When I went pro, I wanted to be the best in the league. When I retired, I wanted to own a team. I’ve always been on the run, trying to get somewhere. But since I met you, the only place I want to be is where you are. It scares the crap out of me, and some days I’m not sure if I’ve lost my mind for feeling this way or if I’ve finally figured out the meaning of life.”

Sloane’s eyes welled up. “How are you even real?”

When the song ended, we sat. I wasn’t hungry, yet I ordered dessert because I didn’t want the night to end. But when the waiter brought the check, I couldn’t drag things out anymore. Panic washed over me as we walked to the valet.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” I asked. “You can stay in the guest room, if you want. I promise I won’t push you to do anything you don’t want to. I just don’t want tonight to end, and I want you there when I wake up in the morning.”

Sloane smiled. “I’d like that a lot.”

I hadn’t been nervous around girls since I was a teen. But when it was just me and Sloane in my apartment, I had no idea what to do with myself. I opened a bottle of wine and poured us each a glass while Sloane looked out the window at the nighttime view of London. I passed her a glass and stood just behind her, keeping a bit of distance.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Sloane sipped, looking over her shoulder at me.

“I don’t want to fuck anything up.”

Her brows pulled. “What would you fuck up?”

“I don’t know. It feels unnatural to not have my hands on you. But I’m afraid if I touch you, I won’t be able to stop.”

“Why would you have to stop?”

“I don’t want to scare you away with too much, too fast.”

She smiled and turned to face me. “You told me at dinner that you wanted to hear the sound of me choking while you filled my throat, and I’m still here.”

My eyes dropped to her neck. I swallowed. “There’s so much I want to do to you.”

Sloane tilted her head and spoke softly. “Like what?”

I lifted my eyes and met hers. “You really want to know?”

She nodded.

I sucked back a big gulp of wine and allowed my eyes to rake up and down her body. “For starters, I want to tear that dress from your body.”

“I saw the tag on this dress. Maybe we can unzip it?”

I shook my head. “I’ll buy you another one. I want the pieces on the floor, scattered around your feet while I spend a few minutes looking at you in nothing but your bra and underwear and those sexy-as-fuck heels.”

Sloane sipped her wine. “Sorry, can’t do that.”

“No?”

“I don’t have anything on underneath this dress.”

I hissed out a breath. “Did you do that for me?”

She nodded. “Will just the heels work?”

“I might have to add a picture to my screen saver collection.”

Sloane smiled. “Then what?”

I lifted my chin, gesturing to the window. “Then you press your hands to the glass and bend over, and I’ll drop to my knees and lick you while you look out at London.”

“Is the window privacy glass?”

A slow smile curved across my face as I shook my head. “Is that a problem?”

Sloane shivered. “No.”

I stepped forward and ran a single finger along the bare skin of her back, starting at the top of her spine. “Lick you might not be the right words. I’m going to devour you, bury my face in your pussy, and eat you until you come all over my tongue. I want you dripping.”

Sloane’s voice was breathy. “Oh God.”

I stepped fully behind her, pulled her hair to one side, and sucked along her pulse line. Her head lolled back, giving me full access. When she let out a little mewl, I pushed up against her, letting her know she wasn’t the only one affected.

“I’ve dreamed of tying you up, making you writhe in my bed until you beg.”

“Is that payback for making you wait?”

“Fifty-one days.”

Sloane blinked, as if from a haze. “What’s fifty-one days?”

“How long I’ve been waiting. Since the day I met you.”

Her features slackened. “You know how many days it’s been?”

“I know everything about the time I’ve spent with you.”

She swallowed, seeming to let my comment sink in. “I think we need to get back to the dirty talk or I’m going to ruin the moment with a sappy cry. I can feel the Hallmark tears marching toward my eyes now.”

My lip quirked. “Not a problem.”

“Tell me what else you’ve dreamed about.”

I nipped at her shoulder blade. “I want to watch your face while you come.”

“That’s still sweet. What else you got?”

“I have a typed-up list of shit I want to do to you. I was going to alphabetize it, but I wasn’t sure if numbers came before letters, or do I spell out sixty-nine?”

She smiled. “I can’t tell if you’re serious or not.”

I lifted my chin to her glass. “No more talking. Finish your wine.”

I might’ve been teasing about the typed-up list, but I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I’d spent hours imagining things I wanted to do to her. Yet her lifting the wineglass to her mouth and doing what I asked might have turned me on more than anything. I watched as she swallowed the last drop before I took the stem from her hand and set it on the counter next to my half-full glass.

Tonight’s dress had spaghetti straps and an open back with a short zipper that started at the waist. It would have taken two seconds to unzip and take it off. But tearing the straps was so much more fun. I grabbed the flimsy material from her shoulders and yanked. The silky fabric slid down her body in a way that would forever stay seared into my brain. It puddled to a pool of green around her feet.

I stepped back, though my body vibrated with the need to touch her. “Turn around. I want to look at you.”

I’d imagined this moment more than once, what she would look like standing before me naked. But whatever I’d conjured in my head didn’t hold a candle to the real thing. Her gorgeous, real tits were full with the most perfect lilt to them. Purply-pink nipples stood at full attention, hard peaks begging to be sucked. I salivated staring at them, and I hadn’t even made my way down to the rest of her yet. My heart pumped so fast that it felt like I might die if I didn’t get started. Then my eyes dropped lower.

Oh fuck. Can you have a heart attack from need? Because that clean-shaven pussy was about to test the theory. I licked my lips, feeling like a little kid in a candy store, not sure what sweet treat to start with. So much for all the mental planning I’d done …

I took a step toward her, ready to dive in, and was met with a hand.

No.

No. No. No. She can’t be putting the brakes on now.

I froze, holding my breath. “What?”

Sloane’s lips curved to a wicked grin. “You told me what you wanted. But you didn’t ask what I wanted.”

Fuck. I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think…”

But before I could finish groveling, Sloane dropped to her knees.

Naked.

Except for the stilettos.

I was caught completely off guard, so much so that I stood with my jaw hanging open while she unbuckled my pants and unzipped me. Sloane tugged my pants down, wrapped her little hand around my painfully hard cock, and looked up at me.

“I want you to make me choke.”

I thought I might come right then and there. My cock throbbed. “Fuck,” I hissed. “You are … perfect.”

I’d said it before she touched me, and I meant every damn word. But when she licked her lips, lowered her jaw, and took me into her hot, wet mouth, I thought I might be the one to sappy cry. Usually when a woman got on her knees, she gave you a show—licking the head seductively, sucking along the shaft like it was a lollipop, wrapping her hand around and pumping to get things started—but none of it was necessary. Not when a woman takes you down her throat in one swallow.

Jesus.

Fucking.

Christ.

She can deep throat. My head fell back with a groan.

Sloane pulled back, keeping suction tight as she slid me almost fully out of her mouth, then lunged forward, taking me into her throat once again. I looked down, watching her head bob, and tears prickled at the corners of my eyes. It was that freaking good.

Was it too soon to propose?

Would her father be pissed if I didn’t ask him first?

Shit, I hadn’t even met her brothers yet.

Not even thoughts of marriage could slow down the orgasm already barreling down on me. She needed to ease up or this was going to be embarrassing. “Sloane. Jesus, baby. You have to slow down.”

Her answer was to look up at me, reach for my hand, and put it on the back of her head, urging me to guide her rhythm. Fuck. She wasn’t just giving me her blessing to fuck her face, she was telling me to do it. My fingers curled into her hair, and my hips began to thrust.

I couldn’t breathe. The sensation of her warm, snug throat constricting around me was the only thing that mattered. I could’ve gone deeper, but she already had so much of me, so I stopped an inch or two shy of my hips pressed to her face.

“Fuuuuck,” I groaned. “Just like that. So, so good.”

My fingers loosened in her hair as I pulled back out, almost to the tip. Then tightened as I eagerly pushed back in.

Sloane moaned, and I felt it in my balls. I pushed in a little farther, still not all the way, but enough that I was riding that edge. But this time, when I stopped the last inch from going in, she looked up at me, reached for the hand already at the back of her head, and urged me to push more.

Fuck.

That did it. I pushed past the point of no return and fed her my full length. Her throat constricted around me as she made a gurgling, choking sound. My eyes rolled into the back of my head. It was nirvana, the best thing I’ve ever heard and felt in my life. But I was seconds away from pumping down her throat, which undoubtedly was going to be an explosion. Choking her once was a gift, a second time was greedy. So I reached down, gripped under her arms, and guided her to her feet. Then I kissed that magical mouth.

Change of plans—I scooped her into my arms and stalked through the apartment.

“What about the window?” she asked in a daze.

“Fuck that. No one is seeing you look like this except for me.”

I set her down in the center of my bed, undressing the rest of the way in record speed. She looked like some sort of goddess, hair fanned out all over my pillow, a real-life wet dream. I made a mental note to tell my housekeeper not to wash the sheets, so I could smell her while I jacked off to the memory of tonight after she was gone. The thought was laughable, really. I was already making plans to watch the rerun, and the show hadn’t even started yet. But I knew it was going to be that good. I’d known it since the first day we met. And that was before I had any inkling she could deep throat better than a porn star.

I pushed her thighs open, spreading her wide. She was pink and perfect, glistening and so fucking lickable. I hovered over her, rubbing my nose against the top of her slit, and inhaled deeply. I was going to bury my face in that sexy smell, and it was highly possible I wouldn’t wash that for a long time, either.

Just like she’d done to me in the living room, I didn’t start small. No. I dipped down as far as I could go, almost to the crack of her ass, and licked one long stroke from back to clit. Fucking delicious. She moaned, and the sound shot straight to my cock. I’d thought nothing could be better than her swallowing me, making choking sounds to take every last inch. But this—hearing her pleasure—this was pure heaven. I’d never quite understood the bible verse that said it was better to give than receive, at least when it came to head. Getting was always better, at least until today. I wanted to eat her all night long, make her moan my name until the words formed a damn song.

Sloane’s back arched off the bed. I lifted a hand to her stomach and nudged her down, using a firm grip to keep her in place. Then I went in for another lick. But it wasn’t enough. Not even close. I spread her legs wider and tunneled in, fucking her with my tongue. Her head thrashed from side to side while she moaned my name. Back in my playing days, the roar of the crowd chanting my name could make me feel invincible. But this—hearing Sloane scream—charged me up more than a packed stadium. My entire face got in on the action—lips, tongue, teeth. Hell, I used the scruff on my cheeks to work her with friction. I couldn’t get enough. And from the sounds she was making, neither could she. I couldn’t be sure which of us was enjoying it more.

“Wilder! Oh God.” She yanked my hair.

I wanted her to pull harder. So I sucked on her firm little bud and slipped a finger inside. I was so fucking turned on that I started fucking the bed, hips thrusting against the mattress, while my tongue lapped at her juices and my fingers pumped in and out. I was totally obsessed and consumed, and I never wanted to come up for air.

Then it happened. I felt the clench around me, her words trailed to an incoherent babble, and Sloane came all over my tongue. It was … glorious. Holy. Other freaking worldly.

And the best part? It was only the beginning …