Chapter 33

Everlee

Ifight back my laughter as I watch Wild Man fiddle with the remote for the television. He gives the thing a look so dark I'm surprised it doesn't melt in his hand. Mr. Bones lays across both of his bare feet. My cat doesn't like new people. He's skittish and hides any time someone unfamiliar is in the house. But he took to Wild Man right away.

It's been a few days since Wild Man broke into my window and took back what was his. It's strange to have him here, seeing him wear clothes, attempting to do modern things. His life up to this point has been so simple. He lived off what nature gave him. I know his adjustment will be a struggle, but I'll help him every step of the way.

Once things settled that first day, I was concerned he would want to go back to the wilderness. While a part of me misses the simplicity of that life, and I probably always will, I can't imagine staying there forever. And I want Wild Man to experience the way life should have been for him. For everything he's been through, he deserves that. The thing with love is, sometimes you make sacrifices. I was willing to go back with Wild Man if that was what he truly wanted. I didn't want to force this life on him if it would make him unhappy.

When I brought up the subject to him, he firmly and quite literally growled the word ‘no'.

"We stay. Better. Momor miss family."

My heart melted. Is it really no wonder why I fell in love with the man? While I was willing to sacrifice my entire life to be with him, he was willing to do the same.

But just because we won't be living in his tree hut anymore, doesn't mean we're leaving that part of his life forever. Next week, we plan to go back. There are things there he wants to get.

Cammie left yesterday to go home to Oklahoma. She's coming back in a few weeks and she's going to bring her boys. We learned through her that the boys' father was some guy she met while she was on vacation in Key West. They had one wild night and the next morning he was gone, never seen or heard from again. She had no way of contacting him to tell him about the pregnancy because they never exchanged numbers and they only shared first names.

I bring the two bowls of cinnamon applesauce with me to the couch and sit beside him. I'm tempted to take the remote from him and find something to watch myself, but he'd just scowl at me and wouldn't give it over. This isn't the first time he's become agitated at something new and complicated, and each time he does, he refuses help, stating he wants to figure it out on his own.

It takes him another minute of him pressing buttons before a movie starts to play. I have no idea what it is because I'm too busy watching him. That's what I do when he's in the room. My eyes are always riveted to him. I'm fairly certain I could look at him until the end of time, and I would still want to gaze at him in the afterlife.

Ethan came by a couple days ago with a suitcase full of old clothes. He's the one closest in size to Wild Man. Tonight, he's wearing a pair of ratty, faded jeans. The material is so worn that there's a couple of spots so thin holes are beginning to form. The jeans may be old and should probably be thrown away, but damned if Wild Man doesn't look good in them. He's barefoot and has no shirt on. His long black hair is mostly down his back, but with his body bent as he rests his elbows on his knees, some falls over his broad shoulders. I don't know if Wild Man has plans to ever cut his hair, but if he does, I think I might tie his ass to the bed so he can't. I love his hair. The same thing with his beard.

Typically, when we're in the house alone, we both go naked. I grew used to not wearing clothes, and I find wearing them now is irritating and uncomfortable. Of course, Wild Man doesn't complain. He says he loves looking at my body and me not wearing clothes makes it easier for when he wants to fuck me. Or make love to me. The only reason we're wearing them now is because we just got off a video call with his sister.

I sit with my back against the arm of the couch and my bowl of applesauce in my hands. When he settles back, I tuck my toes under his thigh and give him his bowl. I watch his face as he takes the first bite. This is his first foray with applesauce. Well, he probably had some as a small child, but he doesn't remember it.

"Well?" I ask, licking the bottom of my spoon as I wait for his reaction. With each new food he tries, I sit on pins and needles. I want to learn all his favorites and dislikes.

He's half turned toward me. He looks down at his bowl as he scoops up more and brings the spoon to his mouth. His jaw moves back and both as if he's assessing the flavor.

"Good."

His answer is lame, and I let him know this.

"Good?" I ask, my tone incredulous. "This is divine. It's perfection in the form of squished apples and cinnamon. Good is what you would say about ice cream or an everything bagel."

He gives me a look that suggests I've lost my mind. He's the one who's gone insane.

I lift my spoon to bring another bite of perfection to my mouth, but a drop falls on my chest. I drop the utensil back in my bowl so I can use a finger to swipe off the mess, but before I can, I'm stopped when the bowl is suddenly no longer in my hand. Wild Man has snatched it away and he puts both of our dishes on the coffee table. He turns more toward me, his hand going up my legs to my knees. He lifts one and puts it between him and the couch. His hands go up further to my waist, and then I'm being dragged down the couch.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my breath stuttering in my throat.

"Made mess." His eyes lock on the drop of applesauce, which conveniently landed at the top of my cleavage. "I clean."

One of his hands goes under me, arching my back. He leans over me, dropping his mouth to my cleavage. I let out a husky moan when his tongue darts out and swipes away the mess.

"Mmm…," he groans. "You right. Divine. My favorite."

I laugh lightly, but the sound ends on another moan when he swirls his tongue deeper between my breasts. I arch my back more and lace my fingers through his hair, pulling his face closer.

"More, Wild Man."

I'm wearing a thin tank top, so when he grabs the front of it and yanks, the material rips easily. I've already taken my shower for the night, so I'm braless. My boobs bounce free, the tips already turning into hard little points. Wild Man growls, the deep sound making goosebumps pebble on my skin.

He takes one of my nipples between his lips and sucks hard, scraping his teeth over the tip. He pops that one free and goes to the other one.

"Oh, God, yes. That feels so good," I moan.

Wild Man lifts his head, and I look down. His lips are wet from his kisses.

"My momor," he rumbles.

"Yes. Always."

His eyes flare and he sits up. The shorts I'm wearing are ripped down my legs, along with my panties. Once I'm naked, he takes one of my legs and hooks it over the back of the couch. He places my other foot down on the floor. I'm spread wide open, and I feel my juices leaking out of me onto the couch.

"My pussy," he grates.

"Yes," I reply, my voice broken from the onslaught of desire wreaking havoc on my body. This man drives me insane with lust.

He slides a finger between my folds, and I lift my hips to meet the touch. He barely grazes my clit before he's sliding back down and pushing the tip of his finger in my hole. I whimper, the sound needy and desperate.

"Please, Phenix."

As I knew it would, his eyes darken at hearing me use his full name. He thrusts his finger inside as far as it will go, giving me just what I wanted.

"Two fingers, momor?"

"Yes," I moan.

He pulls out and rams two fingers inside. I cry out at the intrusion, lifting my hips off the couch. He thrusts and retreats, driving me crazy with my need for even more.

"Three? Want three fingers fuck you?"

I open my eyes, dazed at how easily this man controls my body.

"Or want mouth, eating pussy?"

I lean up on one elbow and fist a handful of his hair. I yank his head down toward my pussy. "Both. Give me both, Phenix."

With a muted growl, he falls on me. His mouth attacks my pussy like it's the last thing he'll ever consume. With a cry, my arm gives out and I fall backward. The foot that's on the floor is lifted when Wild Man aggressively shoves my leg back, lifting my ass off the couch. I'm as spread open as I can be with a crazed man feasting on my pussy.

He licks and slurps and sucks and nibbles on my clit, all the while ramming three fingers inside me. My head thrashes as I lift my hips and smash his face against my pussy. The vibration of his growls and the roughness of his beard scraping all over me adds fuel to the flames consuming me.

When my orgasm hits, it takes total control. Wild Man keeps thrusting, the juices seeping out of me making each one slicker. I grab his hair and shove him closer, lifting my hips, grinding myself on his face.

I'm boneless and sapped completely of energy by the time he lifts his head. His beard is soaked with my release, and coupled with the satisfied look in his eyes, it renews my need for more.

I watch with languid eyes as Wild Man gets up from the couch and yanks off his jeans. Once he's naked, his long, hard cock bouncing around, he grabs me under my knees and pulls me further down the couch. With one foot planted on the floor, he throws his other leg over my torso so his cock bobs right in front of my face. Gripping his shaft, he angles the tip down toward my lips, a small dot of pre-cum glistening on the tip.

"Open, momor," he growls. "Suck."

Suddenly ravenous to have his cock in my mouth, I spread my lips open. He feeds me just the head, and I clamp my lips around it, sucking away that delicious little drop. I love the way he tastes.

He hisses out a breath, his head tilted down with his hair falling all around his face. He looks savage at this moment. Like an animal ready to take his mate.

I suck the head, wanting more of him, needing him to fill my mouth all the way. He presses his hips forward and another inch slides inside. I lift my head, intent on taking more and he takes advantage. Gripping a handful of my hair, he snarls down at me as he guides my head up at the same time he pushes his hips down. He goes to the back of my throat and my eyes water.

"Yes, momor," he grates, his teeth bared. "So good."

I hum in the back of my throat. He lets out a groan and sinks deeper, wedging his cock through the tight muscles. I swallow, constricting those muscles, knowing it'll drive him crazy. I want him to lose his mind with lust. I want his control obliterated.

He grunts, his already tight grip in my hair growing stronger. He jerks my head back and rams his hips forward again. I sink my nails into the globes of his ass and my hips lift off the couch. I don't know what I'm reaching for. I just know my pussy is weeping so much, the couch will be soaked.

Wild Man falls forward, catching himself on the arm of the couch. I tip my head back for a better angle, my eyes sliding open to meet his intense black pair.

"More, momor," he grunts through his clenched teeth. "Deeper. Fuck mouth."

He thrusts, and I didn't think it was possible for him to go deeper inside my throat, but he manages to. I let one of my hands wander down my body to my pussy. I strum my clit and the shock of that first touch has my back arching off the bed and a low moan vibrating through my chest.

"Fuck my pussy while I fuck mouth."

And I do. I shove one of my fingers inside my slick pussy at the same time he shoves his cock down my throat. I match my thrusts to his. Tears leak from my eyes and slide down my cheeks as he takes my mouth hard and fast, choking me on his cock. I fuck my pussy as deep as I can.

A tingle builds in my lower stomach, preparing me for what I know will be an electrifying orgasm.

Wild Man's moves become wild and frenzied, his thrusts deep and savage. He uses my hair to pull my head back, only to use it to slam forward again. Over and over. My throat feels raw and abused, but in the most delicious way. I pull my finger from my pussy and press it to my clit, swirling the tip around the tight bundle of nerves.

With my other hand, I wet my fingers with my juices and bring them to Wild Man's ass. I slide my fingers between his cheeks until I feel the pucker of his asshole. His grunt is deep and gravelly when I press against the spot, pushing the tip of my finger inside his tight hole.

"Momor," he growls. His thrusts become wild and uncontrolled. A man possessed by his lust.

I push my finger deeper inside him and feel for the spot I know men have. When I find it, I press against it. Wild Man lets out a loud bellow and jams his cock in my throat as deep as it'll go, effectively cutting off all of my airflow.

His shout of pleasure and the strumming of my clit sets off my release. I arch my back, the muscles in my stomach tightening as I'm thrown over the edge. I can't vocalize my release with his dick in my throat, but that's what makes it more intense.

He grunts and groans as I feel the warm jets of his cum slide down my throat. I greedily swallow every drop.

He releases my hair as I slide my finger out of him and he pops out of my mouth. My chest pumps up and down as I take in large gulps of air.

Wild Man's stamina has always amazed me. Maybe it's because he's making up for lost time or he's just been graced with a magical cock. Either way, he's still very hard.

He lifts me from the couch and falls on his ass on the cushions with me straddling his lap. From the look in his eyes, he's not done with me. Which suits me just fine, because I'm not done with him yet.

With his hands on my hips, he poises me over the head of his cock, then slowly slides me down until I'm fully seated on him.

"Give me mouth, momor."

I drop my head and give him what he wants.