Wicked Games

by Wood, Vivian

  Wolf presses his lips to mine, bending me backward. My hands touch his face and then creep around his strong neck. He picks me up. My legs go around his waist naturally. I moan as he walks us both backward, toward the bed.

  God, is this really happening right now?

  As he lays me back on the bed, I shiver. He breaks off the kiss only to move his mouth lower, to my jaw and my neck. Scorching a path to my pulse point, he buries himself there. I feel the sting of his teeth for a second before he kisses the sensation away.

  I had no idea that his mouth could be so hot. His lips against the pale column of my neck causes my breasts to tighten and lift. I realize that he is already pressing himself between my legs, falling there naturally when he moved us both on the bed. I am suddenly aware of the place between my thighs where I ache, the feeling more and more insistent the longer I’m with Wolf.

  His hand trails down to cup my breast through my shirt, pinching my nipple through my bra. Everything he does feels amazing, like a fire burning through a drought-parched land. He pinches my nipple again, sending shivers of electricity down my spine. I gasp at how connected my breasts seem to be to the slit between my legs, the slit that is growing damp now.

  I have some ideas for what would feel good right now, most of them centered on the bulge in Wolf’s jeans. Pressing my hips up against his, I make a sound of pure need.

  Wolf pulls back, desire flaring high in his eyes as he meets my gaze. When he speaks, his voice is rough as gravel.

  “Do you want me?” he asks.

  It’s as simple as that with Wolf.

  I bite my lip and nod, my eagerness overcoming my shyness. He kisses me again, his hands drawing my tee shirt dress up and over my head. Just like that I am bare before him, wearing nothing but my bra and tights.

  Wolf looks at me hungrily, his eyes dipping down to my breasts. He takes a second to unlace his Converse. I follow him, sitting up and untying my shoes, my heart beating in my throat. Then he strips off his shirt, leaving me half-drooling at his hard muscles. His abs. His pecs. His biceps…

  Everywhere I look is ridged with muscle. That crew team is no joke, it seems.

  He returns to me, unbuttoning his jeans. He leaves them zipped, cradling my face as he kisses me. My heart is a humming bird, fluttering in my chest. A moan emerges from my mouth as he takes me back onto the bed, trailing his hot kisses down my neck and across my chest.

  When he kisses his way down to my breast, pulling one strap of my bra down and baring my nipple, the breath seizes in my chest. Then he fastens his wicked mouth on my nipple. I cry out at the almost electric sensation. It makes the ache between my legs spread a little wider.

  He releases my breast, his face utterly dark as he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. I take a little bit of initiative and draw my bra off, tossing it aside. Then I’m bared before him, my hard nipples jutting proudly between us.

  I hear his harsh intake of breath. It makes me flush.

  “You are so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, reaching out to cup one of my breasts. “You know that, don’t you?”

  I turn even more scarlet. Reaching out a hand of my own, I touch his neck and trail my fingers down his arm. “You are too.”

  That makes him laugh, his eyes crinkling. His humor is infectious and I find myself smiling softly.

  “What?” I say.

  “I can never read you. I never know what you’re about to say, that’s all.” His eyes wander down my body.

  He runs his hands down my sides, finding the fullness of my hips between his two hands. He kisses me again, firmly and passionately, making me gasp with want. I hardly realize that he’s stripping off my tights until they are gone, until I am left with a skimpy pair of white lace panties as my last layer.

  Wolf looks me directly in the eye as he starts to touch the tiny triangle of damp fabric. I let my eyelids flutter closed as his clever fingers begin rubbing near my aching clit. God, even this much friction is incredible.

  He kisses me, his lips and tongue every bit as clever as his fingers. I’m shamelessly excited by him, by what lies ahead. I know nothing except how those fingers and that tongue make me feel.

  Soon my panties too are gone, slid down my legs by his hasty hands. I look up at him as he spreads my thighs wide.

  “Fuck,” he says, running his hands down my inner thighs. “You have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, Emily.”

  He brushes his fingers along my slit. I groan, trying to stay still. When he draws his fingers to his mouth, glistening with the juices of my excitement, my mouth falls open.

  Has anything ever been sexier than watching Wolf Astor lick my juices off of his own fingers?

  Then he lifts himself up, his fingers going to his waistband. I watch, wide eyed, as he begins to unzip his pants. His cock springs free almost immediately, unencumbered by any underwear. My eyes zero in on it. It’s long, thick, and perfectly pink.

  I shouldn’t be surprised to find out that Wolf is well endowed, but my jaw does drop a little anyway. He shoves his pants down and steps out of them completely. Now he’s naked before me, his thighs and hips as taut with muscle as the rest of him.

  There is even that little vee of muscle at his hip bone. I shiver when I see that. My fingers reach out to touch that vee, without me ever having consciously thought about it. He moves closer, allowing my inspection.

  And why not? He’s certainly got nothing to hide.

  My heart in my throat, I know that this is it. I’m going to lose my virginity to Wolf Astor, right here and now. When he finds my pussy with his fingers again, stroking up and down the slit in rhythmic caresses, his gaze latches onto mine.

  In his dark blue eyes, I see an expression of pure want. As his hand works a little faster, I make tiny mms and ohhs of pleasure.

  He leans down, his cock pressing against me intimately. My mouth opens to kiss him when he gets closer, but he surprises me by murmuring in my ear.

  “Is this your first time, Emily?”

  I flush. My mouth is suddenly dry. I just nods, unable to speak.

  “Are you on birth control?”

  I just nod again. I’ve been taking the pill since my teen years. I am not ready to be a parent, that’s for sure.

  His mouth curls into a grin. He kisses a spot on my neck, sucking it hard enough to pull a moan from my lips. “I’ll make sure your first time is memorable.”

  He surprises me yet again by pulling away and sinking to his knees. I sit up partway, alarmed, but he pushes me onto my back with steady hands against my stomach.

  “Every man should want to do this to you,” he whispers, bringing his hand up to part my pussy lips.

  Then he touches the tip of his tongue against my exposed clit, the part of me that has been throbbing for so long. It feels like a lightning bolt, straight to the pleasure center of my brain. The breath leaves my lungs for a minute as his tongue works around it in steady circles.

  Soon I’m burying my hands in his hair and moving in time with the rhythm he sets. It’s so good that my whole body is on fire. He seals his lips around my clit and sucks. I’m on a precipice, holding onto my connection with reality by a thread.

  Then he groans into my flesh, sending a tidal wave straight to the heart of me. With a shudder and a low moan I come apart, gripping at his hair. He continues to lick and kiss my clit gently until I stop him with my fingers.

  I pull him back up to my head, kissing him hard. He tastes like ozone and something a little sweet. With a start, I realize that that’s me I’m tasting on his lips and tongue.

  Wolf fists his cock, bringing the head to my entrance. I’m still slick from what he just did with his mouth, but when he starts to push his cock inside, even the smallest amount stretches me out. My body is resistant even though I want him.

  There is a moment of genuine pain, bringing tears to my eyes. And then he is thrusting all the way in, making me forget the pain. Our bodies merge. For a second I am not sure what I am suppose
d to feel.

  But then I close my eyes and relax into the thrust of his big cock. I start to feel something building, a vague pressure from far away. It is different than the burning desire I felt before, more like a spring slowly tightening.

  “Open your eyes, Emily,” he grits out.

  So I do. I stare up into his gaze, feeling the coil of my desire tightening, inch by inch. Raking my nails down his back and meeting his thrusts with my own, I feel I have never been closer to another person than I am to Wolf right now.

  “Fuck,” he mutters. His expression says he is either in pain or ecstatic, one of the two. “You are so goddamn beautiful.”

  Watched by those dark blue eyes, I start to shatter once more, spasming as I come. He is right behind me, fucking me frantically, finding my hand and gripping it so hard that I am honestly afraid that it will break.

  He comes with a shudder, pounding into me relentlessly. I can actually feel his cum inside me, but in the next second I forget that I was even thinking about it because he kisses me, long and with tongue. For several seconds, it’s just me and him, no one else even existing in the entire world. My heart beats erratically, in time with Wolf’s, and it just feels so right.

  Everything that I was worried about… how he’s a player and out of my league… it just melts away. All that is important is the here and now, his body against mine.

  Eventually of course he does roll away. He turns onto his side and takes me with him. Kissing me again, slowly and meaningfully, he sighs against my lips.

  “Happy birthday,” he whispers.

  I can’t help but crack up at that. He grins, absolutely unchastened. Then he pulls me against him, kissing me with a groan. Already, I can feel his cock stirring against my belly again.

  Happy birthday to me, indeed.

  38

  Wolf

  Everything is different.

  Once, I thought I could fuck Emily Danes right out of my system. Now I know that will never be true. Not now that I’ve seen her face as I was the first person to claim her. It sounds like some bullshit out of an ancient romance novel, but my blood hums with it even now, a week later.

  I dropped her off at Thistle House with lips still puffy from my kisses. She reached up to touch them after she shut the door of the car, her cheeks reddening, and it was all I could do not to chase her inside.

  Easy. We have to go easy. It was her first time.

  I sit in front of the fireplace in the living room at Rose Hall, trying to read one of my textbooks. When I came down here I knew what I was studying for, and now I couldn’t tell you, even with the book right in front of me. It took me all of five minutes to slip back into my thoughts.

  Back to Emily.

  I knew there was something about her that called to me the first time I saw her. God, I was a fucking fool to ignore it. It left too much of an opening for other people to step in.

  That’ll be over now.

  And still, I can’t stop thinking about her. What is she doing, across the yard? Is she lying in bed thinking of me? Is she pressing her legs together underneath her desk, trying to stop?

  I sink down into the wing chair and close my eyes. This semester cannot get off track. Not now that I’ve been entranced by Emily’s ways. This is the first time in my life that I’ve actively cared about impressing someone else with my educational prowess. It’s fucking strange.

  “—Danes?”

  My attention perks up at the mention of her name, even part of it, and I open my eyes. I can’t see who’s talking because of the way I’ve positioned the wing chair.

  “No, she’s not with him,” says the second voice. That one is more recognizable. Matthew Gold. I should pay more attention to the brothers. Some of their names slip my mind at important moments, like this one. And I’m in charge of them all. I’ve got to keep a tighter grip. “She’s with Max.”

  “Max? I thought she was just a date for formal. Have you seen the way—” I don’t catch the rest of the sentence. The two of them must be out in the hall, by the door.

  “No,” Matthew says again. “I’m pretty sure she’s with Max.”

  Maybe the conversation continues. Maybe it doesn’t. But I don’t care, because I’m busy pulling out my phone and opening the app to text Emily.

  Are you busy?

  Her answer comes almost immediately, as if she’s been waiting for my message.

  Always busy studying, but otherwise no. Is everything ok?

  No. Everything’s not okay. But this time I know exactly what I need to do to make it right. And I need to do it now.

  Everything’s fine. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.

  The first reply to arrive is a tiny emoji of someone throwing up.

  That makes me so nervous!!

  The pounding in my head recedes. It doesn’t make me nervous. It makes me certain. I’ve been waffling all year about whether or not it was dangerous to be with Emily, whether or not I could afford to be with her, whether or not it mattered to the right people, and all of it is bullshit. I don’t want to hear people speculating about whether she’s with Max or not. And I don’t want to hear them coming to the conclusion that she’s with him. Fuck no.

  Are you free in an hour?

  It’s six o’clock. By the time I see her, it’ll be seven, which is a more than reasonable time to take someone to dinner.

  Free for what?

  Dinner. Wear something pretty ;) And a warm coat.

  * * *

  An hour later, I ring the bell at Thistle House and wait for Emily to come down, feeling like a frat boy out of the nineteen twenties. No house mother opens the door, however. It’s just Emily, wearing a puffy coat with the hood up.

  “It’s freezing,” she says by way of greeting. I hold out my hand, and she takes it. “That’s better.”

  It’s hard to get a grip on her fingers, what with the mittens she’s wearing, but I manage it. “Let’s walk.”

  “Okay.”

  I walk her straight across campus to the building that houses the Peach Pit. The closer we get, the more Emily smiles. “A do-over?”

  I put a hand to my chest, pretending to be offended. “Do you think our other date here went that badly?”

  “No,” she says instantly. “I mean...a repeat visit.”

  “That’s better.”

  Her cheeks are still pink from the cold when we sit down at the same table ten minutes later.

  She’s different now. A few months spent on campus haven’t changed who Emily is, but they’ve made her more comfortable with this world. I can see it in the relaxed set of her shoulder. She smiles down at the menu, letting out a long breath. “You must’ve been hungry,” she says as I scan the words on the page, not seeing any of them.

  “Hungry?”

  “Yeah.” She glances up at me. “Your text sounded kind of urgent.”

  I put the menu down on the table. “Okay, I’ll be honest.” Her attention is full and instant. “It was urgent. But not because I’m hungry.”

  “Oh.” Emily lets her own menu drop. “Are we here for dessert?” She laughs. “If that’s why we’re here, tell me now, because I was waiting on dinner until I finished studying.”

  I shake my head. “That would be tomorrow morning, or something absurd.”

  “You got me.” She draws her bottom lip between her teeth. “What’s urgent, Wolf?”

  “It’s nothing bad. And we’re eating dinner.”

  Her grin is pure relief as she picks up the menu again. “I’ve been thinking about chicken piccata.”

  “Another time, we’ll have to get into why you think chicken piccata is the most luxurious meal in the world.”

  “I don’t care if it’s luxurious,” Emily says, a cute smile wrinkling her nose. “I care that it’s really good here. And I loved it. Sometimes it’s better if you don’t have to take a risk on something new.”

  “Sometimes it is.” I’m not going to be able to order until I can get
this off my chest. “Sometimes the risk is all that matters.”

  She lifts her eyes from the sheet in front of her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means...” I take a deep breath. “I’ve been an idiot.”

  Emily’s forehead wrinkles. “About what?”

  “About you.”

  “I—” She looks around, as if anyone is going to be listening in. “I don’t understand. What about me?” Her shoulders have gone up around her ears. Shit. This is not the angle I wanted to take with this. It’s time to stop beating around the fucking bush, clearly.

  “I want you to be mine.” Emily’s eyes go wide. “We’ve been playing games, and I’ve been having a hell of a good time.” My cock stirs thinking about it. “But I’m done screwing around. I want you to be mine...officially.”

  “Like...be your girlfriend?” Emily says each word slowly, as if she’s never been asked this before, and she’s translating from a foreign language.

  “Yes.”

  I fold both hands over my menu, painfully aware that I probably look like a fucking hedge fund manager. Emily’s hand goes to her throat.

  “Wolf, I...” She swallows hard. “I don’t...I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

  It takes my brain several heartbeats to register what she’s said. The only answer I expected from her was yes. I felt the way she moved beneath me when I took her. I saw the way she looked when she left my car. Every sound that she’s ever made with my hands on her body...

  “It’s not that i don’t want to be with you,” she says, her eyes wide. “I really, really do. I just...” She blows out a breath through rounded lips. “I need a minute. I need some time,” she clarifies. “More than a minute. But I’m glad you asked. I’m practically beside myself.” She covers her face with her hands. “A little time, Wolf. Please don’t be pissed.”

  “Pissed?” I laugh. “I’m surprised. But if time is what you need, then you’re going to get it. The offer’s on the table.” Now it’s worse. Now I feel like a real estate agent. And yet I can’t walk away from her. I don’t want to. “It’s that simple. I want to be with you, and I’m willing to wait for the answer.” I pick up my menu and pretend to read it again. “Let’s order.”