Page 106 of Wild Card

“Frustrating, isn’t it? Try being me, having to live in the same house as you while you traipse around in those flimsy fucking leggings, Gwen. Been dreaming of this pretty little cunt for months, so you’re just going to have to suffer while I take my time enjoying it.”

My words elicit a frustrated growl from her, and I chuckle in response. I add a third finger, and she pants while I enjoy her pussy stretching to accommodate my touch.

Pulling out, I spread her and rub the slick wetness over her lips. I suck in a breath as her sex glistens before me, making me lick my lips.

“Look at you. Delicious. So fucking tight,” I growl as I reach down with my opposite hand to adjust myself in my pants. “So fucking wet.” I shake my head in disbelief. As though I can’tquite believe I’m here. With her. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

I push my fingers back in and almost blow my load as I watch her take me. “Fucking made for me, baby.”

“Bash, Bash…” she chants, and it’s music to my ears. My name on her lips, my fingers inside her, that raspy fucking voice.

I cave. For her, I fold. Unable to hold back any longer, I drop my mouth to her pussy and take my first taste, the point of my tongue trailing through her seam lightly.

“Oh god,” she moans, and I flick my tongue against her clit.

I don’t devour her. I savor her and this moment. Much like earlier, we’re locked away in a private bubble. The beat of the music pumps from below us and sets a languid pace. My fingers and mouth working in tandem. Her choppy breaths. My heartbeat in my ears. The sweet taste of her on my tongue as I press closer, hiking her leg over my shoulder so I can squeeze that delectable ass.

She grinds against me, and I pull her closer, the fervor between us hitting a fever pitch with every stroke of my tongue. I push into her. I nip at her. I look up and see her chest heaving. I look to the side and see my mark left on her leg.

My cock twitches and I double my efforts.

I turn from patient to demanding. Finger-fucking her harder as my threads of control fray. My free hand explores every curve. Her nails scratch at my scalp. The world around me zeroes in.

All I can see is her. All I can feel is her. All I can taste is her. I’m fucking drowning inherand I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Bash,” she whispers. “I’m so close. I’m?—”

I rear back and take my hands off. “Not yet. If you come, I’m going to blow in my pants.”

She nods briskly, gulping for air. Her gaze is unfocused. She looks entirely lust addled. And quite frankly, I feel the same.

Which is the only explanation for what I do next.

I take her hand and lead her out of the closet, looking both ways to make sure the bedroom door is closed before I drag her to the balcony. My fingers flick the dead bolt open and my heart thunders while my dick aches painfully.

“What are we doing?” she asks, voice thick and eager.

I look back over my shoulder at her flushed cheeks and sparkling lilac eyes. “What I told you earlier today I’ve dreamed of. I have a laundry list of ways I plan to fuck you. And overlooking the lake is at the very top.”

“Now?”

I step out onto the balcony, tilting my head to listen. All sounds of outdoor conversation are gone. The low mumble of voices comes only from inside the house.

“Yes. Now. I can’t wait any longer. I’ve waited long enough. And no one can see up here anyway,” I say, tugging her out with me.

Her responding giggle is light and airy. Playful and downright alluring. As she passes me, I trail a hand over her hip, placing her directly in front of me as I walk us toward the railing. Her hands wrap around the metal bar, and she folds herself at the hips, hiking her skirt up with a knowing smirk on her lips.

I don’t even know where to look first. That face. That mouth. That ass. Do I take a step back and enjoy a panoramic view of her bent over for me while the sun sets beyond her?

I feel like a goddamn kid at a fair. Overstimulated. Not sure which ride to take first.

The fabric trails up over the back of her thick thighs, slowly revealing the curve of her ass. “What are you waiting for, Rousseau? You gonna fuck me or just stand there and stare?”

I hold a finger up to my mouth, reminding her to be quiet. “Shh, baby. We’re sneaking around here, remember?”

She presses her lips together, understanding dawning in her eyes. But then she widens her stance, pushes up onto her tiptoes, and arches her back in offering.

“Then hurry, I’m so close,” she murmurs, reaching one hand down between her legs and making a show of playing with herself.