Chapter 20 Willow
WILLOW
Fuck. Oh god.
I grind against Ransom’s hand a little, trying to push that one finger deeper into me. Malice already made me come once tonight, but it feels like that was so long ago now.
My body aches, like it needs this. Like it needs to feel more and deeper and now. These men make me hungry in a way I never was before, like they’re an addiction I just can’t quit.
I roll my hips against Ransom, and his eyes flash with heat. He shifts his hand so he can shove another finger into me, and at this point I’m wet enough that there’s basically no resistance.
His other hand is still playing with my breasts, and he gets rougher now, pinching one nipple hard enough that it makes me gasp.
He leans up and kisses me, swallowing the quiet noise, and the touch of his lips to mine is like electricity. It sends a spark down my spine, making me shiver against him. Instead of pulling away or trying to stop this before it gets out of hand, I melt against him even more, kissing him back.
Ransom makes a low, pleased noise, and he squeezes my breast a bit harder, before sliding that hand up to come around my neck and pull me in even more.
His mouth is hot and hungry, and it’s like I can feel the truth of the words he said earlier in every brush of his lips on mine.
He did miss me.
He does want this.
His tongue slides into my mouth, seeking out mine. They twine and twist together, slick and insistent. My heart pounds heavily the whole time, measuring the seconds as we make out like teenagers in the kitchen.
Before I even realize it, my hands have decided to join the party, and I slide them under Ransom’s shirt, touching his skin, feeling the places where he’s finely muscled.
He groans into my mouth and then pulls back a bit, breathing hard. “Fuck. You have no idea what you do to me, angel.”
“I think I’m getting an idea,” I whisper.
The full weight of everything that exists between us hits me all at once as I speak, and I bite my lip, unsure all of a sudden. Overwhelmed by it all.
Ransom clearly sees that, but he doesn’t back away from what he sees in my expression. He leans in again, tugging my bottom lip from between my teeth and lapping at the spot where my teeth dug into it before kissing me again.
His fingers haven’t stopped moving in my pants either, and when he adds a second finger to my wet core, I moan, my hips grinding forward all over again.
It feels so fucking good, and my head is spinning with it. Having him here, pressed close, touching and teasing me, working me up. It’s like nothing I’ve ever been able to do to myself, and as much as I know I shouldn’t be letting this happen, I can’t help myself.
“I think about this all the time,” Ransom murmurs roughly.
He drops his mouth to my neck, dragging his tongue over my pulse point before pulling back to look me in the eye. His gaze is heavy and hot, the usual bright blue-green color of his eyes dark now, like a stormy sea.
“I think about how fucking gorgeous you were that morning when you woke up and admitted you’d been having a dream about me and my brothers,” he says. “I think about the way you let me make you come, how you opened your eyes and looked at me just as you fell over the edge.”
He punctuates the last words by thrusting his fingers in even deeper, working them faster, fucking me harder.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off to memories of you,” he groans. “But nothing… nothing could ever compare to the real thing.”
“Oh! Fuck!”
My eyes roll back as pleasure slams into me, hot and deep. I choke on a gasp, and Ransom stares right at me, clearly intent on not missing a second of this.
“Are you close?” he asks, his voice low. “Are you on the edge right now? I want to see it. I wanna see you fall apart for me. Fuck, I missed making you come, angel.”
He pushes his fingers in with each sentence, and when his thumb comes up to rub at my clit, I know there’s no way I’m going to hold off the impending orgasm.
My hips jerk and buck, and I grind myself shamelessly against his hand, giving in to the pleasure that sears under my skin and demands more.
“Ransom!” His name comes out sounding desperate and breathless, and I don’t even care. My head is full of nothing but the need to come undone, to finally feel the intensity of the climax that’s building. “Please…”
His eyes flare with heat and he surges forward, kissing me hard all over again.
“Yes,” he says. “Come for me, Willow. I wanna see it. I wanna feel it. Soak my fucking fingers.”
It’s not phrased exactly like an order—the words are too loaded with Ransom’s own desperation for that—but they work like magic, tipping me right over the edge and headfirst into an orgasm that I couldn’t stop if I wanted to.
And I really don’t want to.
Not when Ransom is kissing my neck and groping at my chest with his free hand, pinching my nipples while his fingers fuck into me hard and fast.
My breath catches, and the pleasure reaches a fever pitch.
Everything goes rigid and tight, and for a second, I can’t even breathe as it all rushes over me.
Then that incredible tension snaps like a rubber band, and all I know is the liquid heat of coming for him, shaking and moaning as wave after wave of pure sensation crests over me.
Ransom works me through it, his fingers moving slower now, like he’s coaxing every last bit of pleasure out of my body.
I gasp for breath, riding it out, until I can’t anymore, and I whimper with oversensitivity.
“That’s my good girl.” Ransom finally stops, grinning at me.
He pulls his fingers free of my body, and just like he wanted, they’re practically dripping. He holds them up, wiggling them a little with a hungry smirk on his face, offering them to me but not forcing me to lick them clean.
But something surges in me anyway. A desperate need, even though I just experienced the best orgasm I’ve had in weeks. It’s something I’ve been ignoring since I left their place, since I walked out on them and vowed never to come back, and I give in to it now.
I grab his wrist and bring his fingers to my mouth, not even hesitating before practically devouring them. I suck on each one greedily, savoring the taste of myself, sharp and sweet.
“Fucking hell.” Ransom groans, his head tipping back. “I would say you’re killing me, pretty girl, but I think I must’ve already died and gone to heaven.”
“Mmm,” I murmur around his fingers, pulling them deeper into my mouth and sucking hard as I swirl my tongue around them.
His eyes flare with heat again, and from the way his jaw goes tight, I know this is affecting him just as much as it is me. Even his voice sounds deeper as he keeps talking, words of praise falling from his tongue.
“Goddamn, you do that so well. You’re so stunning when you let yourself go and take what you want. And what you want right now is to taste what I did to you, isn’t it? You like the way your cum tastes? You like knowing these fingers were just buried so deep inside your pussy?”
His words make my clit throb all over again, but at the same time, they freak me out a little too. I’m still grappling with feelings of shame and embarrassment for liking rough, dirty sex, and even here, when I’m already in it, those feelings don’t go away.
But not even the heat rising in my cheeks can stop me from wanting more of this. Releasing his fingers from my mouth with a wet pop, I use the hold on his wrist to tug him in even closer, kissing him hard.
His tongue finds mine again, and it’s like he wants to taste me too, savoring every last bit of the flavor of my arousal.
I wrap my legs around him, and that puts the hard line of his cock right against my sensitive pussy.
“Fuck,” I gasp out as his clothed cock rubs against my clit.
“Yeah?” Ransom pants back. He rolls his hips, rocking against me, pressing in even harder to up the friction. “Is that what you want next? Want me to fuck you, pretty girl?”
There’s a noise from behind me, and I jerk in surprise before craning my neck to look back.
The kitchen is open to the living room, and with me sitting on the island like this, my back is to the armchair.
The same chair that Vic has been sitting in this whole time.
Somehow, I got so caught up in everything that I forgot he was there.
He was busy on his laptop when I came out of the bedroom, but he’s looking away from it now, the light from the screen illuminating his face as he stares at me and Ransom.
My cheeks burn, and I turn back to Ransom, my pulse pounding as I whisper, “Vic can see us.”
Ransom’s gaze slides over my shoulder to his brother, but he doesn’t stop. He drops a kiss to the spot where my shoulder meets my neck and slides his hands under my shirt again, rolling one nipple between his fingers slowly, methodically.
I choke back a moan, and I can’t keep from squirming against him, caught up in how good it feels.
“Let him watch,” Ransom murmurs. “You know Vic doesn’t always like to be touched, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you.”
My stomach flips, goosebumps breaking out over my skin. In the time since I met the Voronin brothers, there have definitely been some interactions where Vic has seemed like he’s attracted to me, but he’s always so hard to read. It’s easy to second guess myself when it comes to him.
But Ransom knows him well, and he says that Victor wants me.
He wants to watch.
The thought of it makes wetness gush from me, soaking my panties even more as my inner walls clench around nothing. The dirty, depraved side of me wins out, and I drag Ransom in again, kissing him even more hungrily than before.
Putting on a show for Vic.
Ransom laughs against my lips as if he knows exactly what I’m doing. He nips lightly at the bottom one, soothing the sting away, and then pulls my shirt up.
It takes a bit of maneuvering to get it up and over my head so he can toss it to the side, and then he makes quick work of his own, revealing his bare chest and torso.