The Pain in Loving You
Page 74
God, it was so hot the way he spoke to me, the filthy, forbidden things he said. “What did you think of?” I managed through my panting.
“What do you think,” he asked, slipping his fingers down between my wet folds before he circled my clit again. “Fuck, it’s hot how turned on you are right now.”
“Please, Tyler,” I begged, and I swear, I’d never begged for anything in the bedroom before in my life. But I needed him, and I didn’t even know what I needed first — his fingers inside me? His mouth on my clit? His cock buried so deep I could see the stars?
I wanted it all, all at once. I needed him to consume me like a black hole. I desired nothing more than to die by his touch.
Tyler kissed his way down my abdomen with his hands on my waist, sliding his tongue over the smooth skin above my clit. I resisted the urge to whine, but my hips bucked of their own accord. I wanted his mouth on me, his tongue on my clit, now.
He seemed to know it, and he tickled my skin with his fingertips as his tongue drew designs on my mound, dipping close to my clit but never fully encompassing it. My breaths were so shallow they barely existed at all, and when Tyler slowly crawled back up to kiss me again, I shoved him back with frustration.
The cocky bastard stood there with a knowing grin. He knew he was driving me crazy, that I needed him to touch me, and he loved to torture me and make me beg for it.
But I was done waiting.
I reached out before he had the chance to pin me again, wrapping one hand fully around the base of his cock and squeezing as I rolled my fist up to his tip and down again. Tyler groaned, his hands slapping down on the dresser behind me as his mouth claimed mine again, hard and demanding, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip. I trailed my fingers up to his tip, spreading the bead of pre-cum there over the sensitive skin before I wrapped my fist around him again and felt him flex into it.
“That’s it, baby,” I whispered against his mouth. “Fuck my hand like you fucked your own last night.”
Another growl ripped through him, and he grabbed my hips, yanking me down off the dresser to stand in front of him. And when he did, our cores lined up, and I pulled him between my legs, between my lips, hands grabbing his ass and dragging him in until his shaft was snug between my hot thighs, slick from my need.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, and his hands loosened their grip on my hips as he leaned back to appreciate the view.
We were both standing, him bent at the knees a little, and he pulled back enough to expose his entire cock before flexing forward, burying it between my folds again. This time, the heat of his base rubbed against my clit with the motion, and I gasped, arching back and gripping onto the dresser so I didn’t hit my knees.
I was already about to burst and he hadn’t even put a single inch inside me.
It was just the hot, raw flesh of his cock skating in-between my lips, and then out again, over and over, slicking my clit and giving it just enough friction to drive me mad without taking me to the finish line.
I was so needy, so desperate for him that every other thought was fleeting and impossible to grasp. The only thing that existed in this moment was him.
My hands found his shoulders, and I stepped up onto my toes, tucking my hips to allow him more access. And on his next thrust, the tip of him stretched my opening, slipping inside just enough to make both of us shiver and shake and hold onto each other for dear fucking life.
“Holy fuck, Jasmine,” he breathed, gripping my arms to still me. “Am I inside you right now?”
I moaned, grabbing his ass and pulling him in even more as I tilted my hips farther, using the dresser to hold me up. He slid in even more, the entire tip of him filling me, and we both groaned again.
“Oh, God,” I whispered, shaking, nails digging into his skin as I raked them up his back to hold onto his shoulders. “Please.”
Another plea. Another desperate call to fill me, to claim me, to ruin me.
And this time, he answered.
Tyler’s hands found my ass, and he lifted me, holding my full weight in his arms with his tip still balanced inside me. I felt the thick muscles of his thighs under my own as he pulled me down onto him, somehow hard and slow all at once, filling me to the brim in a motion that seared me from the inside out.
A loud moan ripped from my throat, and Tyler wrapped one arm completely around me so he could cover my mouth with the opposite hand. I breathed into it hard, tempted to bite the flesh, but knowing he was right. I needed to be quiet.
But how could I?
He held me there for a long moment, reveling in the feel of his cock fully inside me, and I breathed into his hand, still trembling in his grasp.
Another scream threatened to break through when he lifted me and brought me back down again, somehow making more room and sliding in even deeper. We hadn’t even thought about a condom, hadn’t even considered that it could ever be anything but just all of him inside all of me.
Raw. Bare. Violent.
The earth tilted, and in the next instant my back hit the mattress, a puff of comforter swallowing us as Tyler lowered down over me. If he pulled out of me with the movement, I didn’t notice, and as soon as we were lying down, he backed me up until my head was in the pillows, until he was so deep inside me I felt him in every pleasurable and uncomfortable way there was. It was painful, it was too deep, and it was the most gratifying experience of my life.
When he leaned back, sitting on his heels with his hands wrapped around my hips, he slammed into me at a whole new angle — one that had me crying out and reaching for the pillow that had been between my thighs the night before to muffle the moan.
Tyler slowed then, filling me softly and purposefully, inch by blissful inch. And when his thumb pressed hot and hard into my clit, circling it in time with his thrusts, I came fast in a throbbing, pillow-biting, all-encompassing explosion of stars.
That orgasm wasn’t just physical, though I felt it invading every centimeter of my skin, my muscles, my nervous system, my being. But it didn’t stop there — it seeped into my heart and into my soul like a hot, persistent flood, filling every crack and hole and hollow emptiness.
It was complete and total devastation.
And I was bound to him.
My orgasm hadn’t even completely finished when Tyler flipped me over, thrusting into me from behind with my legs pinned under his. The new angle hit a sacred spot inside me, and my orgasm continued, the rolling waves of climax making me shake and whimper under him as he rode me hard and fast and rough.
I knew his hands would bruise my hips, that his teeth had left marks on my neck, that I’d forever feel an emptiness from where he was inside me now — but I didn’t care.
I loved it.
I craved it. I wanted more, more, more — all of him, all of this, all of us.
It was wrong. It was betrayal. It was everything we were never supposed to do.
But when Tyler thrust into me again and again, then three final, hard times, filling me up completely before he pulled out and stroked his orgasm out until it spilled hot on my ass, I knew we’d take whatever punishment, whatever hell we’d wake up to the next morning.
We’d always choose this, time and time again, over and over, no matter what.
If I thought it was hard to forget Tyler Wagner before, it would be impossible now.
He’d ruined me.
Thoroughly and utterly destroyed me in every consumable way.
And I had never wanted anything more.
Chapter Fifteen
EVERYTHING WAS SORE.
Just one stretch of my body in bed had my hips screaming, my legs aching, my ribs and back and arms protesting the movement. I didn’t know if it was from the run that I’d pushed myself too hard or from the multiple rounds of Tyler and me exploring each other throughout the night — perhaps a combination of the two.
All I did know was that I was deliciously sore, deliciously sated, and that Tyler was wrapped around me like a giant, warm, pr
otective bear.
He spooned me from behind, his bare skin hot to the touch and slick from us being fused together all night. His arm wrapped around my waist, tucking me into him with his hand palming my breast. His legs were threaded with mine, curled and tangled, and after my little stretch, I already felt him growing hard, his erection pressing between my cheeks.
For a long moment, I just lie there — knowing we were both awake, that the sunshine streaming in through my still-open curtains was too much to sleep through. But I didn’t want to move, to lose that time in space where Tyler was mine, and I was his, and we were wrapped up in each other under the covers with the waves lapping at the shore outside our window.
Tyler groaned when I wiggled in his grasp again, my ass rubbing against his erection, and his hand traveled every curve of my body as I turned in his hold to face him. He was still lying there with his eyes closed, but a lazy smile was on those perfect lips.
“Mornin’, beautiful.”
I bit my lip, heart soaring at the greeting.
Tyler Wagner was in bed with me, and everything about waking up next to him felt good and right and real.
“Good morning,” I whispered back.
I trailed my hands up over his shoulders and into his hair before I drew lazy lines on his back, and he sighed happily, holding me tighter.
“That feels nice.”
I smiled just as he creaked one eye open, and then the next, and those warm, brown eyes roamed my face with adoration as the morning sun reflected in the golden specks around his irises.
But then, they shot open wide, and in the next instant he was balanced on his elbows over me, hands and eyes roaming my body with worry etched in his brow.
“Fuck, Jasmine,” he said, touching places on my neck, my collarbone, my hips and thighs. “God. I’m so sorry. It looks like I fucking mauled you.”
I blushed, giggling and wrapping my arms around his neck. His brows were still furrowed when he met my gaze, but I just reached up to press my lips to his.
We both inhaled at the contact, sweet, content sighs coming from our chests in the next breath.
“It was the best mauling of my life,” I whispered.
He smiled, but shook his head, pulling back to look me over again. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” I insisted, tilting his chin to look at me again. “Better than fine. Sore as hell, yes, but…” I stopped, smiling as our eyes searched one another’s, because I knew I didn’t need to say another word for him to understand.
A relieved sigh left him, and he moved until he was settled between my thighs, his hands framing my face, fingers in my hair, thumbs tracing lines on my jaw. “Last night was amazing.”
I nodded, smiling as a blush shaded my cheeks. “It was.”
“I’ve missed you so much, Jaz,” he said next, his brows pinching together. “When you left, I always thought you’d come back. I just assumed you’d be back for the next holiday, or birthday, or to visit your aunt or Morgan. I thought I’d see you again, and I’d be able to explain, and then we’d…”
He swallowed, and I squeezed where I held his waist over me.
“After a year went by and you didn’t come back, didn’t answer my texts or my calls… I knew I needed to let you go.” He shook his head. “But fuck, I never learned how to. You’re impossible to forget, Jasmine. Impossible to get over.”
“Me?” I pointed a finger into my chest. “Try getting over you.”
He smirked a little at that. “You always seemed like you had, like it was easy. I watched you online, living life, dating and traveling and moving on without me. I didn’t think you ever thought about me, about this place,” he confessed. “And when you showed up here, after all that time… God, Jasmine. Just seeing you there in the kitchen with my family… with the same smile and eyes as you had when you left…” Tyler’s nose flared. “It crushed me.”
I frowned, running my fingers through his hair. “I never knew,” I whispered. “I never knew that you told Morgan, or that she’d asked you to stay away from me. I always thought you saw me as a… as a mistake.” The words were like acid on my tongue, and as soon as I said the word, Tyler shook his head. “I know now that’s not what it was, but that’s what I always thought. For the last seven years, I looked back on that day that meant so much to me and thought it meant nothing to you. I thought you were disgusted by what we’d done, that you were ashamed, that you wanted to bury it.”
Tyler was still shaking his head, and he pulled my fingers to his lips, kissing each tip. “I wanted to tell you. But when Morgan explained everything… with your mom, and your break-up with James, and graduating, and getting ready for college… I could see it, you know? I knew it was this hard, life-changing time for you, and I didn’t want to take advantage of that.” He frowned more. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”
I nodded in understanding, touching his lips where he still held my fingertips.
“I never stopped thinking about you,” he whispered, his eyes flicking between mine. “Not a single day went by without me thinking of you, Jasmine.”
Emotion surged in my gut, in my chest, and tears welled in my eyes before I could stop them. Tyler leaned down to kiss those tears as soon as they slipped free and slid down my cheeks, and I held onto him, holding him to me, feeling the heat of him around all of me.
What now?
The words were on the tip of my tongue, and I knew I needed to ask them, but before I could, my stomach growled hard and loud against Tyler’s.
He chuckled, pulling back from our embrace with one eyebrow arched high. “Someone’s hungry.”
“Listen, I ran countless miles before we spent all that energy last night.”
He laughed again, kissing my nose and then bounding out of bed before I could reach to stop him. His eyes searched the floor until he found his sweatpants, and he yanked them up to his hips, pulling his t-shirt on over his bedhead next.
I didn’t miss when his eyes paused on the spilled vase of flowers, but he didn’t ask about them.
“Let me go steal us some muffins from the kitchen,” he said, leaning down to kiss me.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him there, reveling in the taste and scent of him until he tickled me to make me let him go.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised. “And we can continue this conversation without your stomach threatening to hurt us both if we don’t feed it.”
“Hurry,” I said, and he pressed his lips to mine one last time before quietly sneaking out the door.
The sun was hot, warming my bedroom enough that once Tyler was gone, I flopped onto my back in the bed and kicked the covers down to my ankles. The cool air from the fan tickled my nipples, my sore clit, and I smiled like a loon, shaking my head and covering my face with my hands at how giddy I was.
And in the next instant, my stomach took a deep dive like the descent of a rollercoaster, and I scrubbed my hands over my face, letting them fall to my sides as I stared up at the ceiling.
Fuck.
I’d cheated on Jacob.
Tyler had cheated on Azra.
And just a couple of days before they were both supposed to fly in and be at this very house with us.
Guilt seared through me, even though I’d already made up my mind before I ran into Tyler last night that I was going to end things with Jacob, I still hadn’t actually done so. It killed me, knowing he had no idea what I’d done, what I was thinking, where my head had been all this time that I’d been back in New England.
He’d sent me flowers. He called and texted me every day. He reminded me how much he loved me, and missed me, and wanted me.
And I slept with another man.
I groaned, sitting up with a sudden headache that I pressed my palm into as if that would help. As soon as I finished my conversations with Tyler, I needed to call Jacob. I couldn’t go back and undo last night — not that I would have chosen to — and I couldn’t go back and call Jacob bef
ore what happened with Tyler. But I could explain everything to him, like he deserved. I could be honest, no matter how much it would hurt.
I owed him that.
My mind drifted to Azra next, to the gorgeous, brown-eyed girl who always lit up Tyler’s phone screen when she called. Morgan had been so excited for her to come in for the wedding, for me to meet her, for her future with Tyler.
And now…
I swallowed, that same guilt striking me again, and I wondered what last night meant. I wondered if I was jumping ahead of myself, assuming that it would change anything, that Tyler would have any sort of decision to make.
But the way he was talking this morning, the way he touched me last night…
My fingertips traced my skin, all the places he licked and sucked and bit and bruised, and in my heart, I knew it had changed him, too.
Minutes stretched on with my mind swirling like this as I waited for Tyler, and when fifteen had passed, I frowned, wondering what was taking so long.
Maybe he stopped to brush his teeth in his room, or to change.
But after twenty-five minutes and no sign of him, curiosity got the best of me. I threw on my pajama pants and a hoodie without a bra underneath, running my fingers through my tangled hair and pulling it to over one shoulder as I skipped down the stairs. It was just past seven in the morning, so I wasn’t even thinking about anyone else being up and around. In fact, my head was too busy playing out other fantasies, like Tyler deciding to cook us omelets once he got down here, or taking the time to brew us coffee.
So when my sock-covered feet hit the ground floor and I slid-turned into the kitchen, I nearly fell on my face at the sight of the island surrounded by the Wagner family.
With Azra in the middle of them all.
They were all mid-laugh, Azra pressing one hand to her chest with her eyes shut and laugh turned to the sky in the most angelic way. Oliver had his arm around Morgan, who was watching Azra like she was the Christmas gift Morgan had prayed for all year, and her parents stood next to them in a similar embrace, smiling at their son.