Chapter 65

There’s another faint brush of lips, against my lips this time, the contact so gentle and teasing that I make a needy whimpering sound when he deprives me of his mouth. “Then let me fill in the rest,” he rumbles. “I’m arrogant. I like to fuck. I’m intense as hell sometimes. It’s all or nothing with me. That’s just who I am. I don’t do things in half measures. There are days that you’ll hate me more than you’ll love me. And you will love me, Elodie. It’s already too late for that. I’ll love you, and you’ll love me, and there won’t be any turning back for either of us. So let me ask you again. Do you have an idea of what it will be like now? And do you still want that, knowing that it might not always be perfect? That it might be hard sometimes?”

My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. I can’t fucking speak. He’s so raw, fierce, and dominant in everything he says and does. The picture of the future with him that he’s just painted is terrifying and bewildering and so fucking exciting that I know I should be less sure about the answer I want to give. But I am certain. Damn it all to hell, this is the stupidest thing I’ll ever do in my life, but I say the words.

“Yes, Wren. I still want it.”

His hands tighten into fists behind me, clawing at my shirt. Suddenly, he’s pushing me backward, lifting me off my feet, and there’s a wall at my back. He snarls like a hungry wolf, crushing his mouth down on mine, and my mind becomes a void. His tongue probes my mouth, sweeping and tangling with mine, and it’s all I can do to remember to breathe. He’s everywhere. The smell of him floods my head, all citrus and fresh sea air, and bright cedar. I’m so fucking dizzy on him, and I don’t even register what I’m doing until he hisses into my ear.

“Careful, E. You’re almost down to the bone.”

Fuck. I’ve wrapped my arms around him, and I’m digging my fingernails into his back, through the thin material of his hoody. “Shit, sorry.”

“Don’t be. I like it. But if you’re gonna mark me as your property, at least take my fucking clothes off first.”

A wave of heat slams into me, burning in my chest, my stomach, and between my legs. I’m like an animal, possessed and wild as I scramble to take hold of his hoody. I have it off him in record time.

We undress each other in the dark, frantic and desperate, sharing breath and moaning each other’s names as we kiss, touch, and knead at each other’s skin.

I don’t know where I am, literally, and I do not care. All that matters are Wren’s demanding hands on my body and the strained urgency in his voice as he gives me a command. “Down on your knees for me, Little E. I wanna find out how good that perfect mouth feels.”

I may have had sex before, but this is something that I’ve never done. Still, I’m not one to shy away from new challenges. Especially ones I want to participate in. I drop down, kneeling for him, knowing I’m relinquishing control to him, but strangely unafraid. His hands wind into my hair as he gently cradles my head. Then the tip of his cock is pressing against my lips, parting them and pushing inside.

“Holy...shit!” Wren hisses. “Fuck, Elodie, that feels...” Whether he trails off because it feels too good or because I’m doing a terrible job, I have no fucking clue. I lave at the hardness he slides into my mouth, enjoying the silken, rigid texture of his erection, and Wren begins to shake. The videos I watched on Youtube last year— ‘How to give your man good head,’ and ‘Best blowjob tips,’ and ‘How to make him come in thirty seconds flat,’ — seem to be paying off, though. He shudders as I apply a little more pressure with my mouth, tentatively sucking, and a slew of curse words spill out of him.

“Jesus. God...damn, Little E. That....that feels fucking incredible.”

Pleased doesn’t even cover it. Wren Jacobi, the scourge of Wolf Hall Academy, the bane of countless women’s existences, a harbinger of misery and suffering, is at my mercy now. I have him. I thought I was signing over my control when I obeyed his breathless command, but that isn’t even remotely true. I’m at the wheel right now. I’m steering this thing, and with a simple flick of my tongue, I know I can bring him to his knees.

He’s so fucking hard. Harder with every passing second. His hands tighten in my hair, holding onto me with a steel-like grip, but somehow I know that, if I want to pull the plug on this at any point, I still have the power to do that.

“Elodie. God, Elodie...” he pants. Not Little E this time. I haven’t given his little nickname for me much thought, but I like the sound of my full name on his lips. He utters it like a sacred prayer as if he’s worshipping me as I worship him, and my head swims with the sound of it. I’m just finding my rhythm, figuring out how badly I can make him shake by utilizing my tongue in different ways, when he jerks back, pulling himself out of my mouth with a wet pop.

“Black hell, E. It’s too much. Too good,” he gasps. “Get on your back. I wanna fucking taste you again. That pretty little cunt of yours is all I’ve been able to think about.”

I thank the universe, God, and everything holy that it’s dark now. My heart surges like a piston as I lay back on the cold, hard floor. Wren’s fingers dig into my thighs, pushing them apart, and then he falls on me like a demon. He’s had way more practice than me; he proved that quite eloquently the other night when he made me come with his mouth. I’m still unprepared for how good it feels when he sweeps over me with the flat of his tongue, though. I tense, my breath hissing out between my teeth as I attempt to relax into the intense sensation building up inside of me.

“Good,” he groans. “You’re so fucking sweet. I can’t get enough.” He buries his tongue into my pussy again, and he doesn’t just use his tongue this time. He uses his entire face, the bridge of his nose, everything, rubbing himself into my slick flesh so hungrily that heat explodes across my face. I’m ashamed, wet, mortified, and so turned on that I can’t wrap my head around what’s happening. He moans, feasting on me like an animal, and I lock my legs around his head, pulling him down on me even harder.

A staggering, overwhelming need blossoms in the pit of my stomach when he slides his fingers inside me, slowly pumping them as he licks. It’s so much at once, too much emotion and desire and feeling, that I realize tears are sliding from my eyes and over my temples. I’m gasping for air in wet, desperate gasps that only seem to urge him on; he fucks me with two fingers, stretching me, exploring, stroking a point deep inside me that I didn’t even know existed, until I’m vibrating, shaking against the floor, my arms and legs tingling to the point of pain, and I feel like I’m gonna...

“Fuck. Hold on, Little E. I wanna feel you come all over my cock.” Wren pulls away, leaving me whimpering and so close to falling apart. I’m only left to suffer for a second, though. He settles between my legs, thrusting himself deep inside me in one swift, breathtaking movement, and my blood sings in my ears. It sounds like wind rushing past me as I stumble and fall, descending into a bottomless pit of madness.

“Wren! Oh, shit! I’m going to—I think I’m gonna—” Even now, with him on top of me, driving himself into me over and over again, biting down on my collarbone, lighting the inside of my head up with invisible fireworks, I can’t bring myself to admit that I’m about to come out loud.

Wren feels it, though. He claims my mouth so savagely that I probably would have come from the kiss alone. “Good girl. Good girl,” he whispers hoarsely. “Let it happen. Don’t fucking fight it.”

That’s all I need to hear. I release the tight leash I’ve been holding over myself, and my very soul shatters apart, stealing the oxygen out of my lungs, and my fractured thoughts right out of my head.

“WREN!” I shout his name, I know I do, but there’s no stopping it. I can’t help it. He locks himself around me, holding me tightly in his arms as he grinds himself against me, his cock filling me to the hilt. I come, shaking and trembling, lights flashing in my eyes, and he snarls into the crook of my neck.

“Steady,” he whispers. “Steady, steady, shhh, good girl. Hold on tight. I’m not done with you yet.”

He slows for a beat. Long enough to rain soft kisses down on my temple and the top of my head, gathering my hair and sweeping it out my face, stroking his fingers over my cheeks and my lips.

“Your fucking mouth, Elodie,” he moans. “The things I wanna do to your mouth.”

He slips his fingers past my lips, pressing down on my tongue, and a low and terrible rumble works its way out of him, reverberating in my ear. “One of these days. God, just you fucking wait...”

He picks up the pace again, his hips grinding against mine, one of his hands palming my breasts and rolling my nipple, pinching so hard that I let out a sharp cry. I cling onto him, addicted to the shifting and bunching of the muscles in his back as they tense under my hands. At this moment, he is a force of fucking nature, more powerful and frightening than the lightning and thunder that split the air apart the night I met him in the gazebo.

He’s fierce and demanding, nipping at my mouth with his teeth.

His hands are rough, taking what they want from my body, bringing me closer and closer...

The smell of him, the heat of him, the weight of him, the very sound of him raging as he draws closer to his climax...

I can’t get enough of him.

There’s nothing else for me to do but hold onto him tight and ride out the storm.

We come together, fingers tightening, teeth gouging, bodies tangled together, breath frantic, and it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever fucking experienced. The hectic flow of my blood begins to slow, my muscles easing one by one, relaxing as Wren sags on top of me, and we spend a second catching our breath. And then Wren does something unexpected.

He places his mouth on mine and kisses me with the utmost care. No tongue. No urgency. Just a gentle moment, where he kisses me, and the fucking world stands still.

I’ve had so many expectations of him in my head that this...I don’t know what to do with this.

Because never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that Wren Jacobi could be gentle.