Chapter 39 Willow
WILLOW
My stomach churns with nerves, surprise shooting through me as Ransom’s words echo in my head.
Tell us what you dreamed about.
The memory of the sex dream I had about all of them is still fresh in my mind, and it hits me how similar this situation is to the dream. Ransom touching me, making me come, and the other two watching, their gazes hungry and unwavering.
My clit pulses as I think about it—both about the dream and about what Ransom did to me when I woke up.
Saying any of it out loud feels embarrassing and wrong, but as the gorgeous man in front of me watches me expectantly, I find myself wanting to give him what he asked for.
My body and mind are buzzing from the booze I drank and the endorphins from the tattoo and the orgasm, and it makes me feel braver than I’ve ever been in my life.
I’ve already done so many things that the old Willow never would have considered. What’s stopping me from doing this too?
Just this once.
This could all be over soon.
I lick my lips as I nod, my mouth suddenly very dry. All three of the brothers are watching me intently, waiting. It takes me a few tries to find my voice, and when I do, it comes out soft and timid.
“I was… asleep. Not just in real life, but in the dream too,” I start. “In Ransom’s bed. And he was… he was there with me. Kissing me. I could feel his mouth on me, kissing the back of my neck and down to my shoulders. It was like his mouth was everywhere.”
Malice makes a noise in his throat, and that little reminder that he and Victor are here, sitting on chairs angled toward the couch where Ransom and I are settled, sends butterflies cascading around in my belly.
“Then he… flipped me over onto my stomach,” I continue. “And I remember thinking about how he was so much bigger than me. How he was pinning me down.”
“Did you like that?” Ransom asks.
My skin feels like it might combust from the heat of my blush, but I nod. For some reason, I did like it. I felt helpless and tiny, but the feeling of being totally overwhelmed by him made me wetter.
“Then he—you—started touching me. I spread my legs, and you touched my…” I stall out, my face flaming. “You touched me.”
“Where did he touch you?” Malice demands, his voice gruff.
“Between my legs.” My answer is barely a whisper as embarrassment and nerves win out.
“Through your clothes?”
I shake my head.
Beside me on the couch, Ransom grins, dragging his fingers down the line of my jaw. “We want the details, angel. Every single one of them. Where was I touching you?”
My tongue seems to tie itself in a knot at the thought of using the words I know they want to hear, describing the details they’re asking for.
It’s nothing I haven’t heard before. Hell, I grew up hearing johns talk dirty to my mom when they came to see her, and I heard plenty of filthy catcalls at Sapphire as the clientele watched the dancers.
But I’ve never just… come out and said those things myself.
“You were touching my… my clit,” I tell Ransom, my gaze locking with his. “And then, um, you pushed your fingers into me.”
“Into what?” Malice prompts.
I shoot him a frustrated look, but he doesn’t back down. He’s settled comfortably in his plush easy chair, his legs spread a little and a distinct bulge growing inside his pants. When I glare at him, he just folds his arms and looks right back at me, a challenging expression on his face.
“Did he push them into your mouth?” Vic asks, surprising me by speaking up. The question sounds neutral and matter-of-fact, even though I know what he’s doing.
“No,” I shoot back. “You know what I mean.”
“How are we supposed to know if you don’t tell us?” Ransom chuckles, leaning over to press a kiss to my neck. “Come on, pretty girl. It’s okay. You can say it.”
I take a deep breath and let it out again, allowing the brush of his lips to settle my nerves and stir the heat in my belly that’s urging me onward. “He pushed his fingers into my… p—”
I get as far as the first syllable before my face heats again.
Malice’s lips curve in a leonine smile as he leans forward. “Into your pussy? Is that what you’re too scared to say?”
“I’m not scared!” I blurt defensively.
“Then say it,” he counters. “Say the word, Solnyshka. Pussy.”
I swallow hard, but something about the way he’s looking at me makes me want to rise to his challenge. Makes me want to prove him wrong if he thinks I’m too delicate or fragile. So I hold his gaze, straightening my shoulders and speaking firmly.
“Pussy.” I drag the word out a little, lingering on every syllable. “He pushed his fingers into my pussy.”
Malice grins, an expression almost like pride passing over his harsh features. He sits back and nods. “Better.”
It’s as if getting over that hurdle makes the rest of it come more easily. I take another deep breath and go back to the dream, picturing it in my mind as I speak. Heat prickles through my veins, and my eyelids droop a little as I get lost in the memories.
“Ransom fucked me with his fingers. It wasn’t gentle, but not hard either. He worked me up and worked me open, and by the time he was done, I was so… I wanted him so bad.”
“Did he make you come like that?” Vic asks, his low voice breaking into my thoughts.
“No. I was close, though. But then he stopped and pulled away, and I remember wanting him to come back. To finish what he started. He ripped the rest of my clothes off and flipped me onto my back. His hands were so rough on my legs as he pulled them open, getting me ready for him. And then…”
My face is on fire, but my body hums with the arousal that comes from remembering the dream and recounting every bit of it.
“And then I realized we weren’t alone. I looked up, and you two were there.
” I glance between Malice and Victor. “You were just watching, not saying anything. Not touching me.”
“Did you want us to?” Malice asks, his eyes glittering.
My thighs clench, and all I can do is nod.
The more I talk, the more turned on I get. I can feel my body throbbing, my pussy aching for something I can barely even name, despite the fact that I already came so hard tonight that it felt like an out-of-body experience.
But at least I’m not alone. The brothers all seem to be as affected by the story as I am. They’re all hard in their pants, very obviously so, and something about that knowledge makes my own arousal spark higher.
I did that.
They’re hard from listening to me.
From thinking about me.
“Ransom fucked me,” I say, my voice getting stronger as I go on.
The more turned on I get, the less embarrassment I feel, as if it’s being burned away by the heat of my arousal.
“It felt so good, and he just kept going. And you two kept watching, and that added to it. I could feel your eyes on me, feel you watching me like you’re doing now.
It felt so wrong for you to see it, but that just made it even better somehow.
Like I wanted you to see it, even though I shouldn’t.
All of it was so much, and just when I was about to come, I woke up. ”
The silence that settles in the living room when I finish speaking is so complete that I can hear the honking of a car several blocks away.
Malice and Ransom are palming their cocks through their pants, and even though Victor has more control than that, I can see something that looks a lot like desire in his expression.
The tension in the air climbs even higher as the silence drags out for several long beats, and it feels like my words are still hovering between us. I don’t move, I barely even breathe, waiting to see what will happen.
Malice is the one who finally breaks the tension, shattering the quiet.
He’s settled in the large arm chair across from the couch, looking almost like a king on a throne, and he lifts his chin.
“Come here.”
His tone isn’t as harsh as it usually is, but it’s still an order, and my body is moving before I’m even aware of telling my limbs to do it.
I get up off the couch and take a step toward him, but Malice shakes his head, his storm cloud eyes glittering.
“No,” he says in a low voice. “Crawl to me.”
My stomach clenches, and my heart skips a beat as my whole body reacts viscerally to his words. I hesitate in place, not sure how to respond. I’m embarrassed by the command, and I should probably be angry about it. I’m not a dog for him to order to come to him on all fours.
But at the same time, I can’t deny I’m turned on by it too. My pussy clenches, wetness seeping into my already damp panties as my clit throbs hard, and a burst of heat shoots through my limbs.
I don’t understand why the filthier these men are, the more I like it.
Malice just waits, showing more patience than I expected from him.
The air crackles with the same kind of energy that I felt once when I walked too close to a downed electrical line, and I get the feeling that if I tell him no, he won’t make me.
But I also think that if I say no, this will stop.
It will be the end of this strangely charged moment that’s formed between all of us.
And I don’t want that.
So I slowly follow his command, dropping down onto my hands and knees and crawling over to where he sits. My pants are still undone and hanging open, and I can feel the way the fabric shifts over my sensitive skin with every movement, my small breasts swaying slightly as I move my arms.
When I reach him, Malice leans down and grabs a handful of my hair at the roots, tangling his fingers into it.
It’s just tight enough to sting a little as he tilts my head up, making me look at him.
His gray eyes burn as he searches my face, and then he smiles—an expression that’s both comforting and terrifying on his harsh, feral features.
“That dream of yours was pretty tame, all things considered,” he murmurs. “It was nothing compared to what it would be like if we shared you in real life.”
I swallow hard, my fingers digging into the cool floor. “I know. I just… didn’t know what it would really be like.”
Malice tugs harder on my hair, drawing me in even closer.
“Do you want to, Solnyshka?” His voice is a deep burn. “Do you wanna know what it would really be like?”
Just that firm grip on my hair and the way he’s using it to control the movement of my head has me buzzing with arousal.
He’s so powerful, so casually dominant, and everything about it is cranking up the desire inside me higher and higher.
My pussy throbs in time with the beat of my heart, and between that and the ache on my chest from the tattoo, I’ve never been more acutely aware of my body.
He’s watching me carefully, his gray eyes studying every tiny movement of my face. So even though my nod is just a tiny jerk of my head, I know he sees it.
Malice’s eyes glitter with something dark and enticing. “Good girl.”
He lets go of my hair, and I fall back a little, sitting back on my heels as I look up at him. He undoes his pants, shoving them down enough to get them out of the way as he utters a single command.
“Then you can start by sucking my dick.”