Chapter Seventeen

Wyatt came out of the bathroom later that night to find Paige sitting in the center of the bed, her legs crisscrossed in front of her. She was leaning over her iPad, but when he entered, she lifted her gaze. She looked so damn vulnerable and skittish sitting there. They’d slept in his bed together before, but he knew she saw this as totally different.

A new problem existed. Her attire. If he thought the large T-shirt and tight spandex workout clothes were bad, this sleeping outfit of hers brought him to his knees. Is this what she always wore to bed? Or had she specifically chosen such a thing in attempt to torture him?

His gaze must have wandered up and down her body too many times because she suddenly glanced down and then set her iPad aside and drew her knees up against her chest to wrap her arms around them.

He climbed up next to her, feeling like a tiger and hoping she didn’t see it that way. He couldn’t decide what to say. He considered so many options but had no idea how she would respond to them. He could tease her about underdressing again. He could tell her she was sexy as hell in that thin, pale-pink, cotton tank and matching tiny shorts. He could say something unrelated and pretend he didn’t have an instant hard-on from her outfit. Or he could say nothing at all and turn off the light to avoid more damage to his blue balls.

She saved him having to make a choice. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to sleep in here or not. I could sleep in your guest room or something.” Her voice trailed off. “I mean, if it bothers you. I know you don’t like me traipsing around your house in so little clothing, but I don’t sleep well in much more than this. I tend to feel trapped.”

He sat against the headboard as close to her as he dared, leaning against it, his legs stretched out in front of him. He didn’t have on a shirt, but he’d put on a pair of flannel pants to keep her from hyperventilating. They hid his erection better than boxers. He reached out a hand toward her in her line of sight, palm up, his new custom. “Come here.” His voice cracked, sounding like someone else’s.

She set her smaller hand in his, unfolded her body, and turned to crawl closer.

Damn. Her tits. He wasn’t sure which was better, the view he remembered from last night when she’d let him take her shirt off, or this new mind-boggling vision of her fabulous breasts held by tight feminine cotton so thin her nipples were visible.

The straps were nothing but pale pink lace that did very little to hold up the shirt. He noticed the same lace was stitched around the bottom edge of her barely existent shorts. Fuck me.

When she reached his side, her knees an inch from his thigh, she sat back on her heels. Her tits looked bigger. Her waist seemed smaller. And he swore the flare of her hips was meant to drive any man insane. “You’re not sleeping in another room. You’re my mate. You’ll sleep with me. Every night for the rest of our lives. If you need me to stay on my side of the bed and not touch you, I can make that happen, but I want to be close enough to feel your heat and hear your breathing. Okay?”

“Another best moment,” she whispered.

“Huh?”

She smiled, tipping her head to one side and looking embarrassed. “You keep giving me best life moments. I think that’s eleven for the evening.”

His chest, which had seized the instant he walked in the room, gripped tighter. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on a guy, babe. How am I going to be able to live up to my own previous standards tomorrow?” he teased.

“It doesn’t come from effort. It comes from the heart.” She set her hand on his chest again. She did that often. And then she shocked him by climbing onto his lap, sitting sideways so that her thigh rested against his dick.

He needed to adjust himself, but he didn’t dare.

Her next words made his heart stop seizing because it stopped beating altogether. “I can’t decide if we should complete the binding first or have sex first.” Her gaze was on his chest where she’d placed her other hand so that now both were smoothing over his pecs.

Did he hear her right? He couldn’t speak.

She kept talking. “On the one hand, if we bind first, I figure it will make our connection so much stronger that the sex will come naturally, and I’ll be less stressed about it by default. On the other hand, if I suck at sex or can’t bring myself to actually do it, you’ll be bound to me and stuck with a frigid mate.”

He shuddered, his mouth falling open.

But she continued, “If we have sex first, it might be awesome and prove that we’re meant to be together in a way that will ease any concerns you have about binding to me and relax us both in the knowledge we’re making the right decision.”

She was so full of shit. But he didn’t have a chance to tell her that because she wasn’t done.

“On the flip side, if we have sex first and wait to complete the binding some other time, we run the risk of me having a panic attack during sex and driving a wedge between us that could do irreparable damage. It selfishly scares the hell out of me to think you might be disappointed by my inability to enjoy myself in your bed, which might keep you from even wanting to bind to me. Either way, the thought is so isolating. I already feel a deep loneliness seeping in from the disappointment. Mine and yours. And things between us are so good right now.”

He swallowed. Where should he even begin?

She lifted her gaze, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “You see my conundrum?”

At that last question, the serious nature of her speech lost its effect, and he couldn’t stop himself from chuckling.

She winced.

He sobered. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. Well, maybe I am, but only because you’re so damn cute. Conundrum? I’ve never once in my life considered sex a conundrum.”

“Well, it is.” She pursed her lips, her hands stilling on his chest.

He lifted his to her sides slowly, making sure she knew he was about to touch her and set them on her waist. “You’re way overthinking things.”

“You can’t tell me how to feel, Wyatt.”

He nodded. “You’re right. I don’t mean to insinuate you don’t have a right to your concerns. You own them. But I need you to understand a few things. Nothing you do or don’t do is going to change how I feel about you. If I have to say that a thousand times, I will. It doesn’t work that way.” He slid one hand up her side and then settled it over both of hers against his heart.

“It absolutely doesn’t matter a bit if we have sex first or bind first. Won’t change a thing. Not in the long run. Sure, the binding would probably increase the lust we feel and make sex more intense, but can you at the moment fathom feeling more aroused with me than you do already?” Asking that was a gamble. But he had faith she felt the same as him and could admit it out loud.

She shook her head, her face flushing pink. Thank you, God.

“Okay, then, though I know from everyone I’ve ever spoken to that sex is off the chart better after the binding, no one can grasp the magnitude of that before the binding, so the point is moot.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better, Wyatt. It’s a stressful choice.”

“I don’t want you to feel stressed about this. I’d rather we took both options off the table for now until you feel more comfortable.”

She stared at him, pondering his suggestion?

“Listen. Let me ask you something.”

“Okay.”

“Do you have a single doubt in your mind that we belong together? Even one tiny inkling that the universe has no idea what she’s doing and maybe we should go our separate ways and look for something better.”

“Of course not. Not a doubt.” She answered so fast and so vehemently that he wanted to pump his fist in the air.

“What makes you think I don’t feel exactly the same way?”

Her face twitched.

“What if I told you I never wanted to have sex with you and, in fact, I wanted to sleep in another room because a trauma that happened years ago was holding me back and I couldn’t get past it, would you leave me?”

“No. Not a chance in hell.”

“What if I never got over it, and I never wanted you to touch me, and you knew you’d never see me totally naked or touch my skin or shower with me or curl up with me in bed or wake up in my arms? Would you leave me?”

She shook her head. A tear escaped.

“Is there anything in the world you can think of that I could do or not do to make you walk out the door and never come back?”

She shook her head again. “No.”

“Then I need you to extend the same courtesy to me and believe me when I say the intense need to have you bound to me is mutual. It has no limits. It’s powerful. Nothing can take it away. It doesn’t hold sex or anything else as a contingency.”

A few silent seconds went by while she held his gaze, and then she moved like lightning. She bent the leg that rested against his cock and drew it across his lap so that she straddled him. She cupped his face with her hands and paused inches from his lips. “You’ll never be able to top that last best moment.”

He smiled.

She closed the gap, pressing her lips to his.

He gripped her waist tighter, easing his hands up her body until his thumbs rested against the underswell of her breasts. Perhaps he’d had a heart attack and died, freezing himself in this moment for eternity. He was okay with that.

He let her kiss him, taking every cue from her. He recognized that she needed to be in control. On top. Guiding them in this ritual. He hoped she finally understood that if this was all he ever got from her, it was enough.

Her hands slid into his hair and held on tight. She licked the seam of his lips. He reached into her mouth to dance with her. She wasn’t quite close enough that her pussy pressed against his cock, but if this went on much longer, it wouldn’t matter because his cock was growing so thick it might actually expand against her enough to give him the friction he craved.

After long minutes of kissing him, she finally broke free and gasped for oxygen. “That settles it.”

He tried to focus on her. “What?” Did he miss something?

“Sex first. Binding later.”

He froze. Did she say sex first? “Pardon?”

“Sex. Now. Like right now. Before I lose my nerve.”

He swallowed hard and said the last thing he wanted to say. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Her eyes widened, and she leaned back as if she might be able to see him better. “Why the hell not? You said you didn’t care which one we did first. You just gave a long speech about how it didn’t matter.”

He shook his head. “No. Babe, I mean I don’t think we should rush to do either. I think you need more time.”

She scrambled off his body and kneeled beside him. One second he thought she was going to agree, and the next second he found out how wrong he was. She whipped her shirt over her head and dropped it. Holding his gaze with more bravery than he knew she had, she wiggled her tiny shorts over her hips and down her legs. Getting them off was awkward on her knees, but she managed.

Yep. He’d died.

The potent scent of her arousal filled the room. His cock jerked in his pajama pants. His mouth was so dry he couldn’t lick his lips.

She remained that way, on her knees in front of him, naked, not covering herself. Her hands fisted at her sides were the only outward indications that she was nervous. “I don’t need more time.”

“I see that. Okay, then.” He could humor her. He would humor her. This would be okay. It would work. He liked the idea of stroking her entire naked body anyway. All he needed to do was drive her over the edge several times with his fingers—and if he was lucky enough, his tongue—and she would be so sated and relaxed, she would sleep like a baby. He’d be that much closer to earning her trust, and she’d be that much closer to believing she could enjoy sex.

You can do this, Wyatt. Ignore the little head. Think with the big. Make your woman’s body hum.

“Lie on your back. Let me look at you.”

She exhaled in relief at his demand and lowered herself onto the bed next to him. She released her fists and flattened her palms at her sides, but stiffly. Forced.

Wyatt rolled onto his side next to her and lifted a hand in the air to let her know he was going to touch her. He set it on her belly and drew circles. Damn, she was gorgeous. So fucking sexy she had no idea. The soft curls he could see covering her pussy were the same light blonde of her hair, which currently was panned out around her face and making her look like an angel. He smoothed his hand up her chest, between her breasts, and around to the side of her neck.

“Are you going to take off your pants?” she croaked.

Not a chance in hell. “Not yet.”

“But…”

“This isn’t a race. Let me take my time. I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life.” Truth.

She sighed, seemingly resigned.

He reached into her mind tentatively. It wasn’t something he did often for fear she would be unnerved by it. But he wanted to at least feel what she was feeling. Luckily she was partially open to his prodding, enough for him to know she was out of her mind with desire and had few other thoughts.

If he could just keep her this way.

He stroked his fingertips over the exact spot where he’d like nothing better than to bite her and let his serum flow into her bloodstream. Later. Not today.

She shivered.

He reminded himself of all the things he wouldn’t do to her. He needed her to see his hands and know what he was doing at all times. He would never sneak up on her from behind. And there was a good chance he would also never be able to take her from behind.

Trailing his fingers down to graze them over her nipples, he held her gaze.

Her eyes glazed over, and her mouth fell open. Her body was stiff, but goose bumps rose on her breasts.

He had to see her, so he let his gaze wander lower to take in the perfect, pink, round disks with the puckered tips. They swelled as he stroked the sensitive skin. As he cupped her breast and closed his hand around it, she arched her back, the smallest moan leaving her mouth.

What would be the best approach? He wanted to make her body sing even harder than yesterday, but he didn’t want to scare her, either. Sitting upright, he let his gaze wander lower, taking in the tight curls that covered her pussy. “Can you spread your legs for me?”

When her thighs parted slightly, he realized she’d been gripping them. He lifted one knee to settle it between her legs, straddling her thigh.

She had a death grip on the sheet fisted at her sides.

He set his hands on her wrists and stroked them up and down her arms. “Do you want me to stop?”

She shook her head. “No. Please… I’m… I’m sorry I’m so…”

He set a finger on her lips. “Do not apologize in our bed, Paige. Look at me.”

She blinked her eyes as she did so, biting her lower lip. Short, shallow breaths from her nose.

“You’re perfect in every way.”

Dropping her lip, she spoke. “Can you just…do it?”

He smiled. “No. Let me explore, help you relax. Tell me when you want me to stop.”

“I’m telling you it would be easier if you went ahead and got it over with.”

“Well, I’m not going to just fuck you and hope for the best, babe. Slow down. Close your eyes if you want, or watch me. Whatever makes you most comfortable.” Should he even be doing this? Trying to get his mate to relax and enjoy his touch while she was so tense?

“Touch me again, Wyatt. Please.” Her voice was low and soft.

“Anytime.” Hoping it wasn’t a mistake, he lifted his outside leg and nudged her knees wider to get between them.

She tipped her head back, gasping as he exposed her further. Good sign or bad sign? He thought she was okay when she dug her heels in and bent her knees a bit, letting them separate.

Wyatt set his hands on her knees and slowly stroked them up her thighs. She wasn’t watching, so he wanted to be sure he didn’t catch her off-guard. She was so fucking sexy. And she had no idea. Those blonde curls above her clit. Damn. He continued stroking his palms up and down her inner thighs while she relaxed into his touch. Her knees shook at the same time her hands loosened their grip on the sheet.

With every pass, he let his thumbs get closer and closer to her pussy until he could press into the skin on both sides of her opening and pull her lower lips apart.

She tipped her head back farther and dug her heels in deeper, a gasp escaping her lips. “Wyatt…” That one word had so many meanings. A plea. Shock. Surprise. Desire. Need. Arousal.

Her pussy was so wet, and the scent of her arousal filling the room was intoxicating. Wyatt’s hand shook. He scooted back on his knees and lowered himself so that he could more fully breathe her in and watch her come alive. He already knew he could easily bring her to orgasm, but could he do it multiple times? And would doing so help her see herself as a sexual being?

Gently, keeping contact with her thigh at all times, he let one finger slick between her pussy lips to gather her moisture and drag it up toward her clit. He circled the little nub, not yet pulling the hood back, but it was swollen enough for him to glimpse its pinkness protruding.

“Wyatt… I’m so…”

“I know. Relax. Let me make you feel good.” He danced his other fingers up into her curls and used two of them to draw her hood back.

When the air in the room hit her clit, she shuddered. He nearly came in his pants at how responsive she was to the slightest touch. In fact, he applied slight pressure to her pubic bone before flicking a finger from his other hand over the bundle of nerves, knowing she would buck.

And that’s exactly what she did. Her hips came off the bed. “Holy shit.” Her eyes shot wide.

He couldn’t help smiling down at her.

“So sensitive,” she murmured.

“Yeah. That’s how it’s supposed to be.” He couldn’t believe she’d never in her life experimented with touching herself. How was that possible? But damn, he liked knowing every single experience she had belonged to him and him alone. Even her first orgasm yesterday was his. It was heady. It was powerful. He swore to himself he would make sure she was so sated she couldn’t move for weeks.

Her hands released the sheet to fly forward and grab his biceps. She probably didn’t even realize she was grasping him.

As he slid farther down the bed to rest on his belly between her legs, she whimpered. His cock ached, so stiff and pressing against the mattress. He was fairly certain he would come inside his pajama pants, and that was going to have to be good enough for tonight. Tonight was about Paige. His only goal was make her come so hard and so many times that she would crave his touch and his mouth on her as soon as she woke up and every hour of her life.

Any nightmare she had from ten years ago needed to be erased, the memories replaced with new ones that focused on Wyatt, his touch, his lips, his gentle caresses. If it took him half a lifetime, he would accomplish this. But considering how strongly she reacted to him, he didn’t think it would take that long.

The first breath he exhaled against her wet pussy made her flinch. She gripped his shoulders. His fingers were everywhere, dancing around her clit and her lower lips, stroking between them, teasing her sensitive, warm skin.

The first touch of his tongue landed on her clit, flicking it while he simultaneously tasted her essence and breathed it in. Heaven. Nirvana. Home.

She lifted her hips off the bed, probably not realizing she was pleading for more. He gave it to her, dropping his lips around her clit and swirling his tongue around her bundle of nerves. She moaned so loudly he couldn’t help but smile. “Wyatt…”

He nuzzled her clit with his nose while dipping his tongue inside her.

Her thighs clenched around his head.

Deciding it was better to coax a clitoral orgasm out of her before anything else, he eased his tongue back up to flick it rapidly over her sweet spot.

She came so fast even he was shocked, her body writhing against him, her clit pulsing where he flattened his tongue to absorb the tremors. He wanted more, unable to get enough of her. When her legs parted to flop lazily to the sides, he released her clit, but only to nuzzle the sensitive skin of her inner thighs while he eased one finger into her pussy.

So damn tight.

So wet.

So hot.

“Oh. My. God. Wyatt?”

He smiled, lifting his face to look at hers.

She squirmed, but her grip on his shoulders tightened. Her body jerked from the shock and confusion of the unknown. But her face was pure bliss. Not a trace of pain or concern or fear. Her mouth hung open, her eyes fluttering toward the ceiling, her jaw loose. She licked her lips.

Oh yeah. Not a trace of panic.

When he turned his hand over and added a second finger to the first, it was he who nearly groaned. The stretch of her pussy around his fingers made his cock weep. He gritted his teeth against the need to come, instead curling his fingers so that the next pass he grazed them over her G-spot.

Paige’s entire body froze. For a moment he was afraid he’d hit a trigger and scared her, but then he realized she was totally with him, the need to let the orgasm go right on the surface.

“Come for me, baby.” His voice was gravelly.

Another firm stroke over her G-spot and she screamed. Her body jerked with every pulse of her pussy around his fingers while he continued to toy with that elusive spot that made her leave her body.

His gaze was locked on her face, knowing he would never in his life see anything more beautiful than watching her come undone for him—particularly this first time with his fingers inside her.

As she fluttered back from her high, he pulled his fingers out and sucked her sweet flavor off his hand.

She released his shoulders with a jerk as if just realizing she was even touching him. And then she flung one arm across her face, covering her eyes. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Oh my God.”

He smiled as he crawled up her body, letting his belly rest in the V of her legs. Her wetness coated him, the heat of her pussy driving him mad with need. But he wouldn’t take her tonight. She was floating too far into oblivion to make a conscious decision to have sex. The last thing he wanted was for her to suddenly snap back to reality and panic.

Nope. Not tonight.

With his face now level with her breasts, he suckled one between his lips.

She flinched, but less than a second later, she arched into his mouth. Her hands landed on his head, threading into his hair as she lifted her head off the bed to meet his gaze. “Kiss me.” Her voice cracked.

He flicked his tongue over her nipple, making her eyes glaze.

Tugging on his hair between her fingers, she repeated herself, “Kiss me, Wyatt.”

He released her nipple with a pop and crawled farther up her body until he could rest his elbows at the sides of her head and smile down at her. “Thank you.”

She narrowed her eyes in confusion and then giggled, her entire body shaking. The sound vibrated through his torso, causing his cock to stiffen further. Damn, she was gorgeous. “You’re thanking me?”

He grinned wider. “Yep.”

“What did I do except lie here like a noodle while you rocked my world?”

“You let me. You trusted me enough to let me. I’ve never been so humbled.” He brushed a blonde lock of her hair from her forehead. “I’ll never forget this moment.”

She slid her hands to the back of his head and tugged.

He held steady, not allowing her to close the distance yet.

“What?” she asked.

“Let me have this. I’m memorizing the way you look.”

Her face softened. “How do I look?”

He searched every inch of her face, cupping her head, his thumbs stroking under her chin. “Well fucked. Blissful. Happy. Content. Your eyes are glassy. Your cheeks are flushed. You’re high.”

Her face turned a darker shade of red, and she blinked a few times, trying to be coy? “I wonder what I might look like if you got to the good part?”

“Mmm,” he responded, totally non-committal, lowering his lips to her.

She opened to him, her lips parting as he tipped his head to the side to slide his tongue into her mouth and taste every inch of her. There was no way she could avoid tasting herself on his lips too, but it didn’t seem to bother her.

The heat of her pussy against his stomach was impossible to ignore, and it took every ounce of energy he had to keep his torso still instead of rubbing himself against the mattress between her legs. It wouldn’t take much for him to come. The slightest friction would push him right over the edge. But would he scare her?

When he released her lips to nibble a path to her ear, she tipped her head to accommodate him. “Now, Wyatt,” she murmured.

“Mmm.” He kept kissing her neck in a line down to her shoulder. When he reached the sweet spot where he would someday bite her, he flicked his tongue over the sensitive thin skin.

She moaned. “Wyatt, please…” Her voice trailed off, but her hand at the back of his neck squeezed.

Knowing his limits, he finally pulled back to look down at her again.

“What are you waiting for?” She squirmed beneath him as much as she could with his body pinning her pussy to the bed. A soft mewl left her lips. Another tug on his head. “I’m rethinking the sex first part. Bite me. Bind and then sex.”

He shook his head, fighting the urge to laugh at her enthusiasm.

“Fine. Whatever. Sex and then bind. You pick.” She wiggled her body again, trying to lift her pussy off the bed. Another moan.

He kissed her nose. “How about neither.”

She chuckled and rolled her eyes, sarcasm oozing out in her next statement. “Sure. Right. There’s an idea.” Her hands grasped at his neck, tugging again. “Get serious. Pants off.”

He gazed into her eyes, stilling, waiting for her to connect with him. He blocked her from his mind though, not wanting her to see how aroused he was while he told her no. It was incongruent. He realized that. But he didn’t want to risk scaring the hell out of her. Did he even know enough to avoid any possible trigger that might cause her to panic?

Or maybe he was so fucking scared of hurting her emotionally that he was being a chicken.

She froze. “You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

Her fingers tightened. “Wyatt?” Panic made her eyes widen.

He gripped her head, holding her steady to keep her from misunderstanding him. “Baby…”

Suddenly she switched from pulling on him to pushing. The heated flush of her cheeks was bright red but no longer caused by arousal. She was embarrassed. And so very wrong.

“Paige, look at me.”

Her eyes closed as she sighed. “I get it.”

“I don’t think you do.” He thumbed her lower lip. “Don’t read anything into my refusal except that I’m so into you that I don’t want you to rush things.” He couldn’t fuck her right now. And he sure as shit couldn’t bind her yet. Her headspace was caused by lust, a lust he was so fucking glad she felt beneath his touch. But he wasn’t going to risk ruining that by rushing the consummation of their relationship—either with sex or with binding.

Was it killing him? Hell, yes. But he’d gone into this evening knowing he wouldn’t take her, and he needed to keep that in mind in spite of the stiffness of his cock and the way his mind told him to take her. He’d give anything to slide into her wet heat. Anything in the world.

Except risk her mental stability.

This was all new to her. She had so many firsts in the last two days. There was no need to rush. “Paige…”

She didn’t open her eyes. Her lips were pursed.

“Paige?”

“Let me go.” Her voice was soft, barely a whisper.

The last thing he could do was hold her down against her will, so he rose off her immediately, freeing her body.

She wormed her way out from under him, rolled off the side of the bed, and fled to the bathroom.

Fuck.