Chapter 28 Willow
WILLOW
My head spins as Malice turns and strides toward the bedroom, his hands gripping my ass tightly.
He drops me onto the mattress and wastes no time climbing up after me, moving like the predator he is until he’s right on top of me.
I must look a mess, my bra shoved down, breasts spilling out, the remnants of my dress hanging off my body. But Malice looks at me like I’m everything he’s ever wanted, and it sends a thrill through me.
He starts working me out of my clothes, ripping away my bra, pulling my hips up so he can tug my dress all the way off. His hands move quickly, and he fumbles a few times, seeming just as desperate and ravenous in here as he did out in the living room.
I get that.
Because I feel the same way.
The desire in me burns so brightly that I know he can see it. Whatever this thing between us is, it’s igniting into a flame I know neither of us could put out, even if we wanted to.
It reminds me of the night he brought me home after Colin attacked me, when he ended up going down on me right there in my bed.
Only it’s even more intense now, because there are feelings between us too.
It’s not just the chemical attraction now.
It’s something so much deeper, which makes this scary and exhilarating all at once.
“Gonna fuck you ’til you can’t walk,” Malice mutters. “Until the only word you remember is my name.”
He drags my panties down as he speaks, and as I bend my knees to help him, I suddenly remember something that makes my cheeks go hot with embarrassment.
Oh fuck.
I sit up and try to scramble away from him, but he catches my ankle, pulling me back.
“What are you doing?” he asks, looming over me like a dark god.
“I, um… I’m on my period. It’s the last day of it. I forgot,” I mutter back, forcing the words out.
I’m embarrassed to say it out loud, and even more than that, I’m disappointed. My body is so keyed up and needy, and it’s like being splashed with cold water to remember why we can’t go through with this.
Malice freezes. His gaze moves down from my face to my bare pussy. He drags a finger along my folds, watching me hungrily as I arch and moan at the touch.
It’s electric, like a jolt straight to the system, and he watches me intently, soaking in every single reaction.
“You think I’m scared of a little blood, Solnyshka?” he asks, a darkly teasing note in his voice. “You must not know me as well as I thought.”
My face feels like it’s on fire, and I roll my eyes at him. “No, I don’t think you’re scared of blood. But it’s not the same as—”
“There’s nothing in the whole damned world that could keep me from wanting to fuck you right now,” he says, his voice low, almost a growl. “Definitely not this.”
He sounds so sure of himself and what he wants, and I lick my lips as I stare up at him.
When he touches me more, rubbing one finger along my clit and pressing against the swollen bud, I gasp and twist my legs, writhing on the bed as electric pleasure shoots through me. He spreads me open with two fingers, and even though my pulse races, I don’t make a move to stop him.
I suck in a breath when he tugs out my tampon and tosses it into the trash can in the corner. Something about watching him do it makes my desire ratchet up even higher, and I feel like every inch of my skin is extra sensitive, my entire body primed for whatever comes next.
Kneeling between my spread legs, Malice shoves off his own clothes, revealing his tattoos and the wound on his side that’s still healing, the thick line of it angry and pink. His hands are rough and possessive when he grabs me under my knees, spreading my legs wider for him.
Every single touch is possessive and commanding, like he owns me. Like he can do whatever he wants with me. Like my body is his to fuck however he wants.
That sends a thrill up my spine, because for better or worse, that’s what I want. I want him to take me. I want him to use me, and I can’t pretend otherwise right now. I can’t keep lying to myself or trying to hide from the truth.
“Look at that,” he murmurs. “Your pretty pink pussy is all wet and slick for me. You fucking missed this, I knew it. Tell me you want me.”
I lick my lips, and it takes me a few tries to find my voice. “Please,” I gasp out. “Malice, I want you. Please.”
His lips curl in a satisfied smile that only makes him look more dangerous. He’s every bit as intense and dominant as the first time we had sex, but it feels even better now somehow. Maybe because it’s not the first time. Things have changed so much between us since then.
He spreads my legs even wider, and the stretch in my inner thighs aches. I couldn’t close my legs if I tried, and I let him keep me spread, whimpering softly when the head of his cock presses against my entrance.
My body throbs and trembles with need, and Malice starts to press inside me, filling me up inch by inch.
Just like with Ransom before, it’s like the first time all over again. Malice’s cock is huge, and the size of it forces my body to work to accommodate him. It hurts at first, a burn that goes all the way through me, but even that feels good in a way.
“Goddamn,” Malice pants, stopping for a second. He holds still, but I can feel the tension in his body, the urge to thrust and fuck into me hard and fast. “You feel so fucking good, Solnyshka. So fucking tight. Look down. Watch yourself take me.”
I do as he says, gazing down the line of my body and watching his thick, tattooed cock spear into me. It feels so good, and the sight of it is both filthy and beautiful somehow. Like we belong here together. Like I was made to take him like this.
Malice keeps pressing in until he finally bottoms out, and for a second, I forget to breathe. There’s just so much of him, and he’s so deep inside me that it almost feels like he’s hitting the back of my throat, splitting me open on his cock.
“Fuuuck.” His curse is ragged and drawn out, the muscles of his arms like steel as he braces himself above me.
He leans down, his stormy eyes burning as he captures my mouth again. His lips are forceful against mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth to tangle with my own. It feels like I’m falling and flying at the same time, our kiss consuming and soul deep.
It’s like he’s trying to devour me—and this time, he just might manage to do it.
All I can taste, all I can feel, is Malice. He’s overtaking my senses completely, stretching and filling me as he kisses me.
We stay like that for a long moment, Malice being uncharacteristically kind and giving me a few seconds to adjust to being so full of him.
And then he starts to thrust.
The first time he drags his cock back and then shoves back in, it makes my breath catch.
I shudder at the sensation of it, the drag of his thick, hot flesh against my most sensitive places, the way the head of his cock slams right into me.
That sets the pace, and he starts to fuck me with hard, deep strokes, not starting off light or easing me into it at all.
But that’s how Malice is. That’s how he fucks. He’s told me that since the first time, and I saw it when he was fucking that woman on his couch, what feels like forever ago.
He goes deep and punishing, pistoning his cock into me with speed and force that takes my breath away, making it impossible to do anything but wrap my arms around him, my fingers delving into the hair at the nape of his neck, my nails digging into his scalp.
It’s just as hard, if not harder, than the first time he took me. His fingers bite into my thighs as he holds on to me, using that grip for leverage as he fucks me until I feel like my brain is melting out of my ears.
Each thrust sends sparks shooting down my spine, and heat is already starting to pool in my belly, a liquid warmth that promises when I come, it’s going to be amazing. The bed rocks under us, and I’m grateful now that I got the heavy wooden bedframe.
Wrapping his hand lightly around my throat, Malice drives into me again, shoving his cock in so deep that it hits something inside me that makes me ache. I grit my teeth on a hiss, letting out a soft, pained cry.
He freezes, chest heaving as concern flashes through his dark gray eyes.
“You good?” he rasps.
I nod, too caught up in how much I want him—how much I want this—to care about anything else. The pain is already mingling with pleasure, and I don’t want him to stop.
“Y-yeah,” I manage to get out, digging my heels into his ass to urge him on. “Please, don’t stop.”
Approval spreads across his hard features, and he grins at me, looking wolfish and dangerous. “Listen to you. Such a good fucking girl. You can take anything I can dish out, can’t you? I don’t have to hold back.”
I shake my head, because I don’t want him to hold back. I’m done with that. I’m tired of both of us hiding behind our walls.
“I want everything,” I pant, the last word breaking into a moan as he drives in again, thrusting hard. I arch against him as best as I can, heat rushing through me.
It feels so good, and everywhere Malice touches me burns with pleasure.
He grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head, holding me down so he can attack my breasts while he keeps fucking me. His mouth burns in the best way as he bites and sucks at my nipples, adding to the deep, intense pleasure that pours through my veins.
It’s at a fever pitch now, a swirling tornado of sensation that threatens to sweep me up and blow me away, and I’m helpless against it. But that’s what I want. I want to lose myself to this right now, so when my orgasm comes barreling down on me, I don’t fight it.
It hits hard, and I nearly scream in pleasure, writhing under Malice, trapped between the bed and his body, pinned down by his grip.
“That’s right,” he grunts. “Shit, you’re squeezing me so fucking tight right now.”
It feels like it goes on forever, pure heat coursing through me, white hot and blinding as it leaves me undone.
Malice pulls out as I finally start to come down.
I feel boneless and keyed up at the same time, both loose and pliable and tight with remaining tension as the insatiable part of me begs for more.
It’s easy for him to move me, and he flips me onto my stomach, pulling me up until I’m on my elbows and knees, ass in the air.
I moan when he pushes my face down against the mattress, feeling the strength in his body as he grips my hip with his other hand and guides himself back into me, shoving in and picking up the pace right where he left off.
“You feel too good,” he grits out. “Should be a fucking crime.”
I don’t have the breath or the brain power left to say anything to that. All I can do is push back against him as pleasure starts to rise in me again, inescapable and undeniable.
The new angle and force of his strokes works me up all over again.
The sound of our bodies slapping together, the feeling of Malice’s large frame bent over mine, his harsh breathing against my skin and the panted curses that spill from his lips…
It’s all enough to have me barreling toward another orgasm, still coasting on the remnants of the last one.
Malice seems close too, his thrusts turning erratic and less measured.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck!”
He slams into me a few more times, and that’s enough to send me flying over the edge, the mattress muffling my sobbing cries as I come again.
He’s right behind me, and I feel the hot spurts of his cum as he finishes with a groan and a ragged curse, filling me up as he finds his own release.
The moment he lets me go, I collapse onto my stomach on the bed, not able to hold myself up anymore. Malice follows, slumping on top of me with a harsh sigh.
As I lie sprawled on the mattress in a haze, it occurs to me, probably too late, that Victor could have been watching all of that, since the cameras are still up in my bedroom. And on the heels of that thought, I realize…
I kind of hope he was.