The Drift: Preacher Brothers, 3 Read online

  The images of her on top of me played through my head. I’d never seen a woman more beautiful than Zoey and knew I’d never see one again as long as I lived.

  “I’ve never felt this way about another living soul,” I said, those words softly muttered as I let my gaze roam over her face, taking in every part of her, engraining it in my memory.

  “Me neither,” she whispered, and I closed my eyes, resting my forehead against hers and inhaling deeply. I didn’t want to breathe oxygen. I just wanted to breathe Zoey.

  The air around us was so damn charged that I felt it move over my skin, lifting the short hairs on the back of my neck.

  “Wilder,” she whispered, and I swore nothing had sounded so very good before.

  “You sure you want this?” I asked, wanting her to be sure, because once we started, once she gave herself over to me, there really was no going back.

  Fucking liar. There was never any chance of her escaping you from the very beginning.

  “I think we both know the answer to that, Wilder.”

  Yeah. Yeah, we really fucking did.

  Zoey was feminine in every single way, from the fact that she was a foot shorter than my six-three height, to her lush curves that were the opposite of my brute force and hardness. Hell, she was fragile in comparison. And that was made abundantly clear as she sat on my lap, as I felt every gorgeous inch of her pressed to me.

  No one will ever know how she feels except me.

  She looked down at my mouth, and I could have groaned at the desire on her face, so prominent and all for me.

  The air was so hot, so charged between us, and we didn’t speak for long seconds. That was because nothing needed to be said. We spoke with our touches, our gazes. I heard everything she wanted and needed just by listening to the way she breathed.

  She was meant for me. I was meant for her. It was as simple as that.

  And all I could do, all I was able to do, was breathe in Zoey’s scent. There was nothing more addicting to me than that. Not the thrill of a job, and not the rush of getting away with a crime. Not even taking those celebratory shots after we knew we got away with a big heist.

  Nothing compared to her.

  I was so high from the feelings she conjured up in me, by the look in her eyes, by the fact that she was going to give herself over to me.

  My cock was hard, the fucker pressing against my pants, demanding to be out and buried between her lush thighs, to feel how wet and hot she was, how tightly she’d strangle my cock.

  And the way she looked at me, her expression telling me without her having to say one damn word that she wanted that so fucking badly too, was my undoing.

  I knew I wouldn’t let her go when I first woke up and saw her stepping out of the bathroom. I knew she’d be mine as the minutes turned into hours turned into days. But now, once I had her, connecting with her in the most physical way two people could… there was really no going back.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Zoey

  He was hard… everywhere. And I felt that desire between my thighs so strongly I couldn’t catch my breath. If I wasn’t sitting on Wilder’s lap right now, his strong arms keeping me close, I could have passed out from the high alone.

  I wasn’t going to think about the repercussions of being with Wilder, that giving myself over, surrendering fully, would absolutely throw a wrench into what the future held.

  This was crossing lines.

  This probably wasn’t “right,” given my situation. But I didn’t care, because it felt too good.

  I stared into his eyes, the lights low, the air around us electrically charged. I couldn’t breathe, the oxygen being sucked out of the room, so I felt lightheaded, deprived. But that depravation was being made up tenfold by the pleasure I felt.

  “Zoey,” he murmured, his eyes still locked on mine. “The way you’re looking at me is very dangerous.” Wilder’s voice was low and rough, like sandpaper moving along my body.

  I shivered.

  I didn’t know what he meant by the dangerous part, but the erotic nature laced in those words told me maybe I did want to push him to see how far he’d take me.

  “And what way is that?” I whispered, knowing I shouldn’t be poking the bear, so to speak, but a thrill moved through me that I was the cause of Wilder being so on edge, nearly losing his control.

  I was definitely playing with fire, tempting a dangerous beast, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to stop or talk myself out of it.

  He leaned in just an inch, so close I could imagine what it felt like to have his lips on mine again. “You know,” he taunted and looked down at my lips before slowly moving his gaze back up to my face. “You’re looking at me like you want me to fuck you, Zoey.”

  I gasped at the bluntness of his words, and my entire body tingled to feel what he could give me. He was so ruggedly handsome, so masculine and raw, that I wasn’t going to deny myself the one thing I wanted, the one thing I knew he wanted too.

  I knew he was fighting this, maybe wondering if there would be repercussions, complications after we did this. I didn’t want to force him into anything. I didn’t want to force myself. But then again, I felt so out of control for the first time that I didn’t want to worry about anything but this moment.

  I want Wilder as much as I can see he wants me.

  I opened my mouth but didn’t know what I was going to say. Talk him into it? Push him further? But before anyone could say anything, Wilder made this gruff sound and pulled me closer, my chest slamming into his. I worried about his wound, but his groan of pleasure diminished any concern that I was hurting him.

  We breathed the same air for long seconds, the sexual tension so powerful I felt it like a caress.

  “I can’t stop, Zoey.”

  I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do. I was so out of my element. “Wilder,” I moaned, because that was all I could do.

  “Christ, Zoey,” he growled and then slammed his mouth on mine.

  A shocked moan escaped, and I held onto him tighter. Kissing Wilder was like falling over the edge of a cliff and not caring if I fell to my death.

  The kiss was passionate and fierce, and when he pulled back far too soon, I mewled in protest. My lips tingled, felt swollen, and when I licked them, I tasted the spicy flavor of Wilder.

  I wanted him to be brutal in his passion. I wanted that power, that strength that had me submitting to him in a very purely feminine way. And I knew Wilder was the only person who could evoke so many emotions and feelings in me. And God, I wanted to explore all of this until the very end.

  I leaned in close, my lips barely brushing his as I said, “I want you.” The words were nothing but a whisper. I didn’t care how needy I sounded. “Be with me,” I moaned this time. Clearly, I wasn’t above begging for this. It felt like my body and mind were frenzied. I was ready to submit to these feelings.

  Wilder was so tense for a long second, but then he groaned and kissed me. “I’m going to have my way with you, baby,” he murmured against my mouth.

  God. Yes.

  He pulled back and breathed hard. “I need to hear you say it.”

  I was helpless against this very dominant, powerful man.

  I swore I felt his cock jerked between my thighs, and I moaned internally.

  Wilder would be huge when he was inside me; that, I had no doubts about. I ached to feel the stretch and burn of Wilder claiming me

  “How wet are you?” His expression was so fierce.

  “So wet,” I whispered, not even sure if he heard me. “I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you, Wilder.”

  “Christ, Zoey, baby… you can’t say shit like that to me and expect me to control myself or be gentle.” We stared at each other, and he finally let out this deep sound from his chest. “I need to be gentle with you. I need to make this first time good.”

  This first time.

  He said that as if there would be more than one time. He said that with
so much certainty I wanted to believe it so badly. A part of me did believe it.

  I could look at Wilder and know he wouldn’t give me sweet and slow, gentle and easy. And that was okay, because I wanted him for him.

  A dark look of possession and arousal covered his face, and I wondered if he could see how much I wanted him, if that was why he was hanging on by a thread right now.

  “Tell me you want me, that you want this.”

  I couldn’t breathe as I really let his words sink in, as I knew, thought, felt, and imagined what we would do and what would happen afterward.

  “I want you, Wilder. I just want you.” I didn’t know how else to put this into words, how to acutely describe the things I wanted with him. It frightened me to even think them, let alone say them to another living soul. “Touch me,” I begged in the softest voice. We were alone, and we were doing this, going there with each other. I knew I didn’t have to elaborate on what part of my body I wanted him to touch, because the truth was, I wanted him to touch me everywhere.

  He slid his fingertips along my shoulder, down my arm, and made his way to my breast. The mound felt heavy and full, sensitive. And when he had his big palm over the flesh, adding a tiny bit of pressure, I felt myself teetering on the edge of an orgasm. And then he added a bit more pressure, and a moan spilled from me.

  “God,” he said on a shaky breath. “You fit me perfectly.” I felt like he spoke to himself, this wonder in his voice drawing my pleasure even higher.

  I let my head fall back slightly, closed my eyes, and then I felt Wilder’s mouth on my now exposed throat. I could have gotten off from the feel of his teeth and lips on my flesh alone, felt my inner muscles between my thighs clenching painfully, wanting something big and substantial, something that would fill me up and stretch me to the point of pain. And I knew that was something only Wilder could give me.

  Curling my hands around his wide, muscular shoulders, I dug my nails into his tattooed flesh, feeling his warmth, his strength. This was going to happen, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to stop it.

  I lifted my head and forced my eyes open, and as I stared into Wilder’s face, his expression spoke volumes.

  He was just getting started.

  Chapter Twenty

  Wilder

  God, I couldn’t hold in my groan, and I knew the vibrations spread through her flesh at the side of her neck. I ran my tongue along her flesh. Fuck, she tasted sweet.

  I flattened my tongue and ran it up the length of her neck over and over again, knowing I could’ve done this all night long, just tasting her, hearing her pleasure in the form of moans and gasps. Fuck, I wanted to memorize her body with my lips, sliding my tongue over every inch of her until I could paint her from memory alone.

  I glanced down at her breasts, which pressed against the material of her shirt. They were firm, a handful, perfect for me in every way. I remembered the rock-hard little bead of her nipple in the center of my palm as I touched the mound, curled my fingers around her soft flesh. My cock jerked against my sweats, demanding to be free. I wanted to feel how tight she was, how wet I made her. Hell, I could have came right then if I kept this up.

  I wanted her, and nothing and no one would stop me from having Zoey.

  “Zoey.” I lifted my hips, grinding my stiff cock against her, feeling her heat through the material of her shorts and panties, through my sweats. “I’ve never been this hard in my life.”

  She moaned, and the vibrations that came from her neck went right into my body, right down to my cock. I felt more pre-cum line the tip, no doubt creating a damp spot on the front of my pants. I broke away from her neck and trailed my lips along her jaw before finally claiming her mouth in another kiss. I fucked her there, kissing her harder, running my tongue along her lips before dipping it into the hot recess of her mouth.

  She tasted sweet, and that sweetness came from the desire she had for me. I grew addicted for more.

  I forced myself to break the kiss, because I wanted to see her expression, wanted to see how much pleasure was written across her delicate features. And she didn’t disappoint. She never could. Zoey’s face showed a drugged-like expression, and the very male part of me wanted to say fuck going slow and take her wild and rough, so fucking consuming that we were both left barely breathing by the time it was all said and done.

  Her pupils dilated, and her lips parted.

  I wanted us naked, with Zoey under me and me between her thighs. I took her mouth again, my control slipping even more.

  “Fuck,” I groaned against her mouth. “The things I want to do to you, Zoey….”

  A gasp left her, and I swallowed it. Kissing her harder, I didn’t give her time to even think about anything else but what we were doing and how I made her feel. In this moment, for this time, I was the one who’d control this, who’d make her feel so fucking good I’d ruin all others for her. She’d only ever want me, only ever know what my dick felt like between those pretty thighs of hers.

  She wouldn’t have to worry about anything aside from feeling herself fall over the edge with me. In fact, she’d never have to worry about anything with me by her side. I’d protect her, keep her safe. I wouldn’t admit that to her now, because scaring her with that truth would be like frigid water on this situation. But after I claimed her, I’d let her know I couldn’t let her go. She was mine.

  I moved my hands down to her thighs, wanting the shorts off, but I slid the material up her legs so far I could imagine them as her panties, barely covering her pussy. Her skin was smooth and soft, warm. God, she felt so good.

  “If you don’t want this, I need to know now, baby, because I’m barely hanging on as it is.” There was a long pause, and I wondered if she’d stop this. I wouldn’t force her to do anything she wasn’t ready to do, but fuck, I’d be going to bed with a serious case of blue balls and a stiff, aching dick if she turned me down.

  “Don’t stop,” was all she whispered, and I thought, Thank fuck for small miracles.

  That was all I needed to hear her say for the last remnants of my control to completely fade away. I had my hands on her waist, lifted her up so she was braced on her knees, and I all but tore her shorts and panties off her and then stared at her pussy. She had a trimmed thatch of dark curls covering the sweetest spot of her. My mouth watered at the sight. She smelled good, clean from her shower, like soap and honey and everything I didn’t know I needed in my life.

  “The shirt,” I gritted out, because I didn’t trust myself not to tear that away too.

  She was breathing shallowly as she lifted her trembling hands to the edge of the material and started bringing the shirt up and over her head. And when the tee was off and a pile on the ground, I stared at her braless chest.

  Her breasts were pert and tight, high, and her nipples were a rosy shade. Her areolas were small and tight, puckered from her arousal and my wandering hands.

  Her scent drove me mad, had my mouth watering even more, my cock jerking fiercely, and my need to claim her like a living entity inside me, this beast that wanted free.

  But more than my sexual need for her, Zoey was more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.

  I trailed my gaze over her pussy, along her flat belly, that little dip where her navel was, and over her breasts before looking into her face. I saw the way she swallowed, her throat working from the act, her nervousness very clear to me. I didn’t want her to feel anything but anticipation and marrow-deep need.

  Without thinking about anything else, I leaned in and latched my mouth onto one of her nipples, groaning that there wasn’t material blocking me this time. I slid my tongue around her areola before sucking the taut peak into my mouth. I felt her shake for me and took her flesh harder and more fiercely into the hot recesses of my mouth.

  I alternated to the other breast, sucking and licking, nipping at her flesh until both her nipples were wet, hard, and red from my ministrations. Her little pants and soft mewls for more escalated my need for her. />
  I was so far gone for Zoey it was maddening.

  I took her mouth in a bruising kiss, sealing all those unspoken words, the truths, the demands and needs I had for her, for us. “When I finally claim you, when I slide my dick into your tight little pussy, when I stretch you so good, baby, you’ll see that you’re meant for me alone.” Those filthy, obscene words spilled from me before I could stop them, but her responding moan told me it didn’t scare her like I thought it would.

  That had me growling in pleasure.

  “Wilder,” she moaned softly, and it was like a hot poker to my dick.

  I ran my tongue along her bottom lip, nipped at the soft flesh with my teeth, heard her gasp from the pleasure-pain I no doubt caused. I buried my face in the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply, imprinting her scent in my lungs, knowing I’d find her no matter where she went. I’d be like a fucking animal tracking her.

  She. Is. Mine.

  I placed my hand right over her pussy, her heat scorching my fingers, her wetness slipping along my flesh. She was ready for me, fucking primed for my cock. And when I pulled back to look into her face again, I saw she closed her eyes and just let the pleasure wash through her. Good. I wanted her right here with me.

  “This is mine, Zoey.” I added pressure between her thighs and growled low at how her body writhed, seemingly on its own. “You are mine.”

  I won’t let you go. You know what I’d do for you? Do you know I’d kill to protect you?

  I never said I wasn’t insane in some aspects of my life, but I never thought I’d feel so strongly about a woman—especially one I’d only known for a couple weeks—that I’d kill for her. But with Zoey, that was an undisputed fact, something I could never push away or try to control. If she was threatened, I’d have no control over my rage in making sure Zoey wasn’t hurt.

  I stared in her eyes, wanting her to see how much I wanted her. I wanted to tell her I wouldn’t let her go, had said it in more ways than one thus far, and I didn’t want to scare her, but fuck, it was hard to bite my tongue on what I felt.