Page 26 of Last Chorus (A Perfect Song Duet #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

wilder

W hen the bedroom door closes behind her, I fold forward and release a silent scream into my fists.

I don’t know if that was the best, most selfless thing I’ve ever done in my life, or a decision I’ll regret until the day I die. Either way, it seriously fucking sucked.

Silently cursing myself and the universe at large, I retreat into my bedroom and close the door.

The room is dim, only a small bedside light on.

Before I’d given in to impulse and knocked on her door, I’d been reading some dry-as-hell philosophy book my dad gave me for Christmas, hoping to bore myself to sleep.

And that was after back-to-back orgasms in the shower failed to exhaust me.

My body vibrates with frenetic energy as I sit on the bed and lower my head into my hands. Thumbs on my temples, I massage as I count my inhales and exhales.

It doesn’t fucking help.

All I see is her endearing, stammering nervousness. Her fear and courage. The lascivious gleam in her mismatched eyes when she finally let herself look below my waist.

Mostly, though, I see the last, stricken look she gave me before she closed the door. She thinks I rejected her. I did reject her.

“What have I done?” I mumble.

She’s probably going to leave, might be packing right now.

The thought brings me to my feet right as my bedroom door swings open and slams against the wall. Flash frozen, I stare at Evangeline as she strides toward me.

When she’s a few feet away and still moving like she’s on a warpath, I open my mouth to say fuck-knows-what.

“No,” she snaps, jabbing her index finger into my chest. “You said your piece, now I get to say mine. Two months ago, you told me I was powerful. A ‘force to be reckoned with.’ Was that a lie?”

I croak, “Of course not.”

She waves a paper in my face until I take it. Angling it toward the light, I see what looks like a letter from a doctor’s office. But it’s in Spanish.

“What is this?” I ask, but then I turn it over and see a series of familiar-looking words, all of which have Negativo in bold next to them .

“That’s my clean bill of health because I don’t want to use a condom. As long as you can produce a similar report. Can you?”

“Yes, but?—”

“Good. I’m still on birth control.”

She pulls the paper out of my hand, folds it into a square, and shoves it in a pocket of her sweatpants.

Then she pulls her shirt off.

And she’s not wearing a bra.

Pressure instantly engulfs my cock. I’m so hard there’s a notable pulse in my shaft, and the soft flannel of my pants has turned to sandpaper.

Evangeline’s breasts are every bit as perfect as I remember, teardrop-shaped and fuller on the bottom. Her nipples sit high like offerings of dusty pink hard candy. Now they’re even more delicious-looking, each framed by two small, silver balls begging to be flicked, licked, and sucked.

I close my eyes. Open them.

Nope. Not dreaming.

“I want you to prove it, Wilder,” she says sharply .

I have no idea what she’s talking about, but thankfully she keeps going.

“Prove to me that I’m powerful. Don’t treat me like everyone else right now, like I’m fragile and I’ll fall apart if you tell me how angry you are with me. I can take it. I want it. Show me.”

I drag my gaze from her chest and up her throat. Over her defiantly lifted chin. Along the lines of her silky, succulent, stubborn mouth. Her small, flared nostrils. The freckles on the bridge of her nose.

Finally, I study the mismatched eyes that fucking haunt me.

The hazel one with its ring of green flecked with blue that blends into golden brown.

And the other—her fairy eye. My fairy eye.

Icy blue-gray with a thin border of steel, it pierces me like it always has.

Cracks me in half and exposes my most feral self.

I grab the back of her neck and yank her forward. She stumbles and gasps, her hands flying to my chest to brace herself. But I already can’t remember why I wasn’t supposed to do this.

“I am fucking mad at you,” I growl.

Closing my fingers around a fistful of hair, I pull her head back and bite her chin, her jaw. I scrape my teeth over her mouth but don’t kiss her. Nip her lower lip, then upper. Hard enough to sting, not hard enough to hurt. Yet. With every bite, she jerks and produces a breathy, needy note.

Her hands climb to my shoulders, nails digging. When she tries to kiss me, I tug her hair to remind her who’s in control. She surrenders with a sigh, looking up at me with lust-drunk eyes.

She’s so stunning I almost wish I could be gentle. Almost.

Keeping her head still, I drag my mouth toward her ear. I take my time, enjoying the subtle rasp of my unshaven cheek against her smooth, warmer skin.

“Do you remember what I feel like? You told me it’s close to overwhelming at first. That I stretch you so good it burns. Did you miss my cock? Did you miss all that pressure in your sweet little cunt?”

She whimpers.

“Answer me.”

“Yes, I missed your cock.” She writhes helplessly against my chest. “ Fuck. Stop torturing me. I’m begging you.”

I shake my head, smiling against her temple. “I’ve waited seven years for this. Beg all you want, Fairy. I’m taking my time.”

The rhythm of her breath vanishes, then resumes even faster. Her neck tenses under my hand. A shudder runs down her body. Alarmed, I lean back to see her face.

The second our eyes meet, I realize what I said.

“Fairy,” I repeat, transfixed by the lifecycle of a tear on her lower lash line. The shimmering sphere grows until it drops, splashing against her cheek.

“Again,” she breathes.

“Fairy.” I trail a fingertip down her nose. “You’re a perfect song. Even though I know every note, I’ll never be able to replicate it. It’s simply too exquisite to exist outside of you.”

Her lips quiver. “My God.”

“Not yet, but I’m about to be.”

Transferring my hands to her waist, I lift and throw her onto the bed. She squeaks when she hits, her bouncing tits an irresistible lure. A moment later, my mouth captures a nipple, and her moan slides down my throat like honey.

By the time I’m done reacquainting myself with every inch of her chest and have teased her nipples and piercings to my satisfaction, she’s crying again. The kind of tears I love. My tears. Her head tosses, hips jerking toward my hovering body, hands fisted in the comforter.

“Such a needy mess. So overwhelmed, aren’t you?”

She sobs my name. “Please.”

My thumb sinks past her lips, capturing her lower teeth and pressing down until her jaw opens. I spit into her mouth. She makes a sound that’s half lust, half outrage.

I grin.

She glares.

“You’ve been so good, Fairy. Keeping your hands to yourself. Letting me play with your gorgeous tits. Do you want a reward?”

She nods fast.

I push my thumb deeper into her mouth. “Suck.”

Eyes flaring, her lips seal around my finger. She sucks hard, her tongue swirling. I grunt, the sensation echoing around my cock.

“Do you want more?”

Another eager nod.

I give her my first and middle fingers and she goes to town on them.

Teeth and tongue, sloppy and ravenous. Then she grabs my wrist and lifts her head, sinking my fingers to the back of her throat.

Eyes on mine and glittering with challenge, she sucks and swallows.

When she gags a little, then moans, it’s game over.

In seconds, I have her sweatpants off, her legs around my head, and my face buried in her pussy. One arm over her stomach to hold her down, I lick everywhere except her clit, reveling in the return of her taste on my tongue .

When her thighs start to shake and the tone of her cries changes from pleasure to torment, I find her hands and put them on my head. They immediately sink into my hair and clench. Her shoulders lift, upper body curving. Panting, she stares down at me like I’m more devil than god.

I wink.

She pulls my hair roughly, guiding my mouth to her clit.

“Suck,” she snarls.

I happily comply.

Her grip is merciless as she rides my smothered face, too far gone to care about whether or not I can breathe. I can’t, but it doesn’t matter because in less than thirty seconds she comes with a gloriously profane cry.

I kiss her swollen clit, then devote myself to the task of licking up every drop of tart cum. Legs splayed and arms over her face, she’s too blissed out to notice my exploration further south until my finger joins the party.

She whacks my head. “No way.”

I chuckle against the crease of her thigh. But I don’t move my finger. “What? I’m not even pushing.”

An arm lifts off her face. Her eyes narrow, but amusement dilutes the effect of her glare. Watching her face carefully, I massage with a bit more pressure. Not breaching the ring of muscle yet, just reintroducing myself. Her breath hitches, pupils flaring.

“Mmm, that’s what I thought. You remember how good it feels to take me here while I work a vibrator in your pussy, don’t you?”

“Yes.” She licks her lips. “Is, uh, that what you want? Tonight?”

I shake my head, almost smiling when she can’t hide her relief. Then I do smile. “Maybe tomorrow.”

Her eyes round in panic, but I don’t give her time to think about it.

Lifting onto my knees, I slide forward, forcing her legs wider with mine.

With my free hand, I stroke her arms and thighs.

Slow, heavy pressure that makes her eyes glaze.

Then I palm each of her breasts, tapping and lightly pinching her nipples until she’s panting again.

All the while, I slowly increase the pressure of my other finger.

“Left foot on my shoulder. Good girl.”

I kiss her ankle in thanks, then look down and bite my cheek at how she’s spread open for me. How well she remembers. How naturally we still move together.

“Fucking perfect.” I make her aware of my finger again, circling and pulsing it. “You’re already nice and slippery. Just one finger for now. I’ve never hurt you before, have I?”

“No.” She takes a deep breath. “Okay, I’m ready. ”