Page 30 of Moonflower
“Oh god, Wilder. Wilder, Wilder, Wilder.”
After that, my orgasm hits. It’s like cresting the top of the hill of a roller coaster and then pausing for a split second before plunging into a dark tunnel. I can’t help the scream that’s ripped from my throat. I’m falling, falling, falling, and it feels like it’ll never end.
It does, though. With one last lick, Wilder lifts his head. My legs fall to the mattress as I gulp in air.
Wilder’s eyes are lit up with satisfaction. “You come really fucking hard.”
“I don’t always,” I pant, propping myself up on my elbows.
He smirks. “You do now.” Then he lowers his head again.
Wilder pulls two more orgasms from me like this. Each time I try to protest, he gives me a terrifying glare that says one thing and one thing only: shut up and take it.
He doesn’t try to make me come quickly. No, he draws everything out, building up the tension in my body until I’m sure I’ll burst at the seams. Only then does he shove me over the edge.
By the time I’ve come down from my third orgasm, I’m shaking, and my legs feel like jelly. I’m sweating in this hoodie, but Wilder won’t let me take it off.
“Do you need water?” he asks, crawling over me and kissing me before I can answer. When he pulls away, I nod, too breathless to speak. “I’ll be right back.”
Once he’s gone, I push myself into a sitting position, trying to process what just happened. I’ve come hard before, but that hard three times in a row? Never. And holy shit, I’m pretty sure Wilder didn’t want to stop.
When Wilder comes back in with a glass of water, I meet him in the center of my room. I take a couple long sips while he runs his fingers through my tangled hair. Then he eases the glass from my hands and sets it on the nightstand.
There are many sides to Wilder—his playful side, his smart side, and his ridiculously hot, commanding, and dominant side. But right now, he looks so serious I’m almost afraid he’s about to give me bad news.
Taking my face in his hands, Wilder leans his forehead against mine. His eyes fall closed, and for a moment we stay like that, perfectly silent. Then he whispers, “I love you, Cora Grimm. I have for years, and I was a fool for not making you mine years ago.”
I fuse my mouth to his. I’ve missed him so much. So goddamn much. If I’d come to my senses sooner—if I’d told them how I felt—maybe we could’ve reached this conclusion years earlier. But no, I had to keep my feelings and fears and doubts to myself. I may have him and Ezra now, but my heart aches for the three years we lost. That I ruined.
“I love you too,” I say.
“Mmm. I know. Now get back on the bed. We’re not done yet.”
I don’t move. Maybe it’s silly, but I liked the way he threw me onto the bed. He raises an eyebrow at my defiance. Then he huffs out a laugh.
“You know, I always figured you liked it rough. I’m glad I was right.”
I grin up at him. “I always hoped you did, too.”
“Guess you got lucky then,” he murmurs, his brown eyes darkening with desire. Then his gaze turns almost predatory as he scoops me up into his arms. “If you need a break, tap twice. On me, on the bed, wherever. I’ll be paying attention.”
“What? Need a break?”
Wilder answers by tossing me onto the mattress again. His body covers mine in an instant, his hands pinning my wrists to the sheets. As he takes my mouth in a controlling kiss, I arch into him and moan.
Oh my god. Why does it feel like this is meant to be? Like we’re meant to be? Fuck. Who am I kidding. I’ve known it was meant to be for years.
“Wild,” I pant when he pulls away.
“Get on your stomach,” he says gruffly.
I scramble to obey him, flipping over. He forces my legs apart, making room for himself between them. I whimper when I hear him undoing his pants.
He leans over me, caging me into the bed. “You like it when I take control, pretty girl? You want me to fuck you into this mattress until you’re so sore you’re sobbing?”
Another whimper. “Yes.”
He positions his dick at my entrance, barely slipping inside. “Do you trust me?”