Page 61 of The Wild Man
“Usually.”
His brows slant down as if he doesn’t like my answer.
“Wild Man?—”
My words are cut off when Wild Man suddenly grabs my hips and pulls me downward. My ass is pulled up so it lays on his thighs. I know the look in his eyes, and his intent, before he even spreads my legs so they wrap around his waist.
“Oh, no.” I try to slap his hands away. “We are not doing this right now.”
I know some people are into having sex while the woman is on her period, but I am not one of them. Even the thought of it has my stomach churning with revulsion.
Wild Man stops my attempts to shove him away by grabbing both of my hands and clamping them together into one of his big ones. He presses them down on my stomach, his dark gaze meeting my frantic ones.
“Stop, momor,” he grates, his voice dropping several octaves.
Against my better judgment, I do stop, but I look up at him pleadingly. “Please. I don’t want to do this.”
After the first few failed attempts, I stopped fighting Wild Man when he wanted to have sex. It took me a while to admit it, but I enjoy the way he makes my body feel. But this is different. I’m on my period for fuck’s sake.
“Why?” he asks with genuine curiosity.
How could he not know? Even with his lack of knowledge of such things, how could he possibly think I would be okay having sex while bleeding between my legs?
“Because it’s—” I can’t think of the appropriate word to voice my thoughts, so I go with, “—dirty.”
His expression doesn’t change, but his eyes darken. “Dirty sex.” The hand not holding mine in place moves up the inside of my thigh and my legs stiffen. “Sounds like fucking.”
“It’s not the same.”
I try to worm my hips off his thighs, but his hold doesn’t allow me to go anywhere.
“Not the same,” he says huskily. “But can feel good like fucking.”
His hand travels further upward, moving over the wetness covering my thighs. I swallow the lump that’s formed in my throat.
How could he be turned on right now? More importantly, how is it possible that his hand getting closer and closer to my pussy is turning me on right now?
I try again to tug my hands from his grip. In return, he tugs on my wrists until I’m scooted further up his thighs.
“No! Stop, Wild Man!”
“I feel your heart beat here.” He squeezes my wrists to show he’s talking about my pulse. “You like this.”
I shake my head. “No!”
I jolt when his finger grazes over the lips of my pussy, and I can’t tell if it’s more from mortification or desire. My head swims with so many emotions. I want to demand he stop, at the same time I want to beg him to touch me harder. I feel disgust at myself at the same time I feel my skin heat sensually.
His finger slips between my folds before he skims them up and over my clit. My back bows and a little whimper slips out of my mouth.
Later. Later I’ll let the reality of what we’re doing have the light of day. Right now, I just want more of what he’s doing.
He dips his finger back down to my hole, and I ignore the fact that he’s wetting the digit with more than just my arousal. Two fingers go in while his thumb presses against my clit. I bite my tongue to keep from crying out, but a low moan still manages to escape. My eyes close in blissful delight.
He fucks me slowly with his fingers for several long agonizing moments. I need more. I need to be stuffed full of him. My period is now the last thing on my mind.
When his fingers leave me, my lids snap open. It’s on the tip of my tongue to beg him to put them back. My hands are now free, so I reach for his wrist.
I pause when he lifts my hips and grabs the base of his cock. He stares down at me, his expression full of dark desire, as he lines himself up to my opening.