Chapter 8
WILLOW
My heart thuds hard in my chest as I listen to Vic breathe through the phone’s small speaker.
His words are still hovering in my ear, and I bite my lip as I process them.
He sounds so frustrated, so fed up with himself, and probably a little embarrassed too.
Vic prides himself on his control and being able to keep his cool and do what needs to be done, and then I came along and shook all that up.
It’s clear he wishes he were better at this, more like his brothers, and that it’s a new feeling for him. He sounds like he wants to give up, like he’s expecting me to give up on him.
But I won’t.
And even though he might be embarrassed by what happened between us in the kitchen, he has no reason to be. I would never hold that against him.
And in truth, part of me likes knowing that he needs me so much that he could come just from kissing me.
“I’m sorry,” he says after a long beat, picking the thread of the conversation back up. “I shouldn’t be putting all of this on you. I’ll—”
“No,” I interrupt. “It’s okay. I asked, and I’m glad you told me. I’m glad I know. And Vic, there are lots of things we can do without touching. You remember, right?”
I glance to the cameras as I say that last part, recalling the time when I touched myself the way he wanted while he watched me and listened to me fall apart. He told me what to do, and just hearing his voice giving me directions was one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced.
It sends a shiver down my spine just thinking about it, and I can tell from Vic’s sharp inhale that he’s thinking about it too.
“Is… is today a day when you usually jerk off?” I ask him, my heart speeding up its cadence in my chest.
“Yes,” he replies, his voice thick. “This is one of the days.”
My tongue darts out, licking my lips quickly.
This is a progression of what we did before, when he watched me, and I don’t know if it’s a good idea to ask for more, but I want it.
And now that I know he left the kitchen because he felt overwhelmed and embarrassed, not because of something I did wrong, I feel less unsure.
“Can I… watch?” I whisper. “I’d really like that right now.”
Vic is quiet on the other end of the line for a moment, and I keep going.
“You’ve watched me lots of times,” I say. “Alone, with your brothers, putting on a show just for you.” I smile a little, dragging my bottom lip between my teeth. “You can watch me too. But I want to see you come, Vic, just for me. Just the two of us. I want to experience it with you, like this.”
Vic takes a breath, and I can hear it shuddering in and out of him. He’s out of control again, probably. I’ve thrown a wrench into his carefully cultivated planning and schedule. But maybe that’s for the best. If we both want this, then maybe it has to be a little awkward first.
“Willow…” he breathes.
“Please?” I say. “I want to see it. Watching you jerk off in the bathroom that night was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen. I felt your cum soak my pussy, and it felt so fucking good. I’ve… god, I’ve thought about that so many times. I want to see you come again.”
I’m surprised how easily the words roll off my tongue.
I feel a bit awkward about it, dirty talk not coming naturally to me or anything.
But my time spent with the brothers, listening to Malice and Ransom say filthy things to me in the heat of the moment, has helped it feel more natural than I ever thought was possible.
They’re still better at it than I am, but I know I have to take the lead more with Victor than the other two.
I have a feeling that if he did ever let himself go, he wouldn’t be restrained at all, but he always holds himself in check so much.
He needs someone to help him come out of that shell and get what he wants.
I wait to see what his answer will be, and I’m surprised when the screen of my phone lights up, the call switching to a video call.
Vic’s face fills the screen, and I smile, taking in how handsome he is.
He’s got similar facial features to Malice, but somehow, it looks different on each of them—especially now that I’ve come to know them so well.
His jaw is strong and angular, and he has strong cheekbones that somehow draw attention to his blue eyes, making them stand out even more.
Seeing him on my phone’s little screen makes me miss the days when I lived with them and I got to see him all the time.
When we had these little conversations in their kitchen, over peanut butter sandwiches or coffee, talking about our families or the nature of Vic’s work.
Even though things were still a bit stilted and awkward back then, it was a closeness that I needed. That I still need.
Even more so now, honestly.
“Hi,” I whisper, giving him a little wave through the phone.
A smile tugs at his lips, and even though he looks unsure and even a little bit afraid, he seems happy, at least.
“Hello,” he says back. Then he grimaces slightly. “I don’t… I’m not sure…”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to, but… will you try?” I ask quietly. “Don’t think about it too much.”
He snorts. “Have you met me, butterfly? Thinking about things so much is my job. Someone in this family has to do it.”
I chuckle. “Okay, fair. But not right now. There’s no crisis right now. Not one we can do anything about, anyway. It’s just you and me.”
“Right,” he repeats, his voice dropping a little. “Just you and me.”
We stare at each other for a while, and it’s interesting how different this feels from anything we’ve done before. Usually, Malice and Ransom are there, leading the way, touching me, kissing me, fucking me. Giving Victor something to watch and me something to focus on.
Even when I put that show on for Victor before, it was different. More one-sided. I touched myself and got myself off to the sound of his voice, but I couldn’t see him.
Now that we’re staring into each other’s eyes, even over the phone, it’s different.
“I want to see you too,” Vic says, and his eyes are intent as he watches.
“Okay,” I breathe back.
I lick my lips and get situated, piling the pillows against the headboard and making myself comfortable. I hold the phone so that Vic can see the line of my body, barely covered by the tiny shorts and oversized shirt I threw on for bed.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, sounding entranced. “I wish…”
He shakes his head, not finishing that thought, but I can guess where it was going.
“Me too,” I murmur back.
I slip my hand under my shirt, skating my fingers along the soft skin of my stomach. There’s a patch of scar tissue on the right side, and before, I used to avoid touching it whenever possible, embarrassed and ashamed of how rough and ugly the scars were, even when it was just me alone.
But after that time with Vic, I’ve started to get more comfortable with it. Touching them doesn’t make me shudder anymore, and instead, I explore the way the scars feel in contrast to my other skin. Going from soft and smooth to more textured and rough.
“Let me see,” Vic says, leaning in closer. He’s probably watching both through his phone and via the cameras, getting the best angles and close-up views of what I’m doing.
I nod, hiking up my shirt to show off where I’m touching. I dip one finger into my belly button and then drag it over to that patch of scars, stroking the edges of it lightly.
A moan spills from my lips, and Vic’s eyes follow my finger so closely that it’s almost a physical sensation, like there’s a phantom touch right after my own. It makes me shiver as I keep going.
“Perfect,” he says. “You’re so good like this, butterfly. Beautiful. Chaotic.”
“I know you like it,” I say back, and my voice is already getting breathy from how worked up I’m starting to get.
Some of the nerves are falling away, leaving only need in their wake.
But it’s still one-sided.
I drag my hand and the fabric of my shirt up even more, pulling it up over my breasts so he can see them. I grip one tightly, rubbing my thumb over the nipple and feeling the jolt of pleasure that it sends through me.
“You too,” I tell him. “I want to see you too.”
“Okay,” he says.
There’s a moment where he sits there, staring at me, and I can see his lips moving the slightest bit. I realize he’s probably counting to himself, trying to recenter, to get some control over what’s going on.
I wait, watching, and eventually I’m rewarded by Vic slumping down a bit in his chair. The camera follows down his body, and he lets me see him starting to undo his pants.
I swallow hard, taking in the sight as he pulls his cock out. It’s already half hard, just from watching me, and I feel a flutter of aroused pride at that realization.
“Keep going,” he urges me as he wraps his hand around himself.
I nod, getting back to it.
Somehow, it’s even easier when I have the sight of his cock right there in front of me. Even through the phone, it’s the closest I’ve ever been to it when I wasn’t already blissed out of my mind from pleasure, and my body craves more.
My mouth waters, and I think about what it would be like to take him between my lips. To suck him off, taking as much as I can, taking him all the way down to the root maybe, while he fills my throat.
I moan just from that thought, tweaking my nipples, rolling one between my fingers and pressing down hard for that zing of pain.
“You like that,” Vic says breathlessly. “When it hurts a little.”
It’s not a question, but I nod all the same. “Y-yeah. It always feels good. I love it when… mmm… when I can really feel it.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” he urges, and I swallow hard again.
“You,” I admit. “Your cock. Taking it in my mouth and… and letting you fill me up.”
“Fuck. Fuck, butterfly.”
“Yeah. I want… I want you to put your hand in my hair and make me take it at your pace. Whatever you want.”