Ridin' Solo (Sisters From Hell Book 1), Marika Ray [librera reader txt] 📗

being angry at Wyatt. He was right. There was so much I didn’t know about him. But I wanted to.

“I’m so sorry about your dad. But why were you afraid to talk to your family?” I asked softly.

His inhale was shaky. “My father was a workaholic, never really there for us as we grew up. We were wealthy, so I had him to thank for that, but really, Em and I just wanted a dad. When he died suddenly of a heart attack, I was angry. Angry at him, angry at the injustices of life. And of course, I felt guilty for being angry at a dead man. So, I didn’t go home, didn’t visit, didn’t talk about him. I just built my new life and tried to put all that behind me.”

I shifted closer, leaning my head on his shoulder. “It didn’t work, did it?”

He chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “Not even a little bit. All it did was make me bitter, rob me of a relationship with my sister, and alienate my mom when she was clearly struggling too.”

Wyatt played with my fingers, tracing each knuckle and line. We sat in silence for a while, just two people sharing the weight of raw emotions. If I could take some of that off his shoulders, I would sit here all night with him.

Wyatt finally cleared his throat and turned to me, his voice nothing more than a gritty whisper. “Thank you. Thank you for insisting on honesty. I want that with you too, Oakley.”

My eyes filled with tears, and I knew that I’d forgiven him. Knew that I wanted nothing more than to give this dating thing a try. I knew he was worth it, and I also knew I pushed for too much when he obviously was dealing with a whole host of emotions. I nodded, a smile growing as he closed his eyes, as if on a prayer of thanks. When he opened them again, the hunger was back.

We came together in a frenzy, lips colliding and tasting. Giving and receiving. Soothing and yet stoking a fire I hoped we’d never put out. His hands immediately went into my hair and pulled the hair tie out, sifting through the strands as they fell down my back. Then his tongue lapped at my bottom lip for entry and I gave it to him. He shoved my sweater off my shoulders and I tugged his shirt out of his pants. Wyatt’s lips moved to my jaw, my ear, my neck.

He stood abruptly, and I nearly tumbled forward on the couch.

He looked down at me, shirt and hair already rumpled, but a renewed happiness in his eyes. He held out his hand, palm up, that bulky watch around his wrist like always. “Let me look at you.”

I placed my hand in his and let him pull me up and into his body. The look in his eyes, the gravel in his voice, and the promise of the hard line digging into my stomach mesmerized me.

He didn’t say a word, just led me to my bedroom, closing the door and stripping his shirt over his head. He stepped out of his shoes on the way to me, tugging my sweater all the way off before starting in on my tank top. He slid my sweats and underwear off with one motion. Only when I stood before him completely naked did he stop and step back, looking me up and down in absolutely no hurry.

“Perfection,” he murmured, leaning back in to nudge my cheek with his nose. “You’re the sexiest, most beautiful, most honorable woman I’ve ever met.” His kisses peppered my face, slow and lazy and so sweet I couldn’t help the shiver of pleasure that raced down my skin.

His fingertips found my shoulders and traced their way down my arms until our fingers tangled together. The short little hairs down the midline of his stomach tickled against my bare skin. My nipples strained for the contact, needing him to move faster to put out the fire inside my body. He tugged me toward the bed and laid me down on the comforter with the care of a man handling a priceless artifact.

“Lose the pants, Wyatt.” I tried to order him, but it came out more of a moan than a command.

He grinned, hands instantly going to his waistline to shove the pants down his hips. I looked down between us to see the bob of his erect cock. I squirmed on the bed, already wet and ready for him. I reached for him, but Wyatt pushed my hands back down on the bed. He didn’t give me what I wanted. Instead, he stood up and ran his hands down my legs all the way to my toes. And then he started back up, this time with his lips plucking each inch of skin, first on one leg and then the other. As he reached my knees, he pushed my thighs apart, letting me feel the groan in his chest at the sight of me bared to him. I shifted my hips, too eager to stay still.

Wyatt grinned up at me from between my thighs, the look so devilish a hint of warning chimed in my brain alongside the desperate ache. He attacked, his tongue flicking around and down, over and over, his fingers getting in on the action and filling me with one smooth thrust. My back bowed off the bed and my breaths came in pants. He slowed his pace only to come back in a flurry of motion, his tongue everywhere, constantly changing tactics until I gripped the comforter to keep from pulling on his hair. My skin felt like it was on fire, a sheen of sweat the natural outcome.

“Wyatt…please…”

He sucked my clit into his mouth and hummed his approval of my begging. A lightning bolt shot from his tongue all the way through the top of my head, exploding into a million stars