Chapter 22 Willow #2
One of his hands fists my hair, making sparks scatter from my scalp all the way through my body.
Then he jerks my head back hard enough to make me cry out before attacking my neck next.
It’s as if all the need that he’s been holding back since he and his brothers saved me is finally pouring out, and he can’t stop himself.
He leaves a trail of biting kisses from under my jaw down to my shoulder, and I squirm against him, gasping for breath.
“Oh my god,” I moan, shifting, trying to find something to grind against. My body is humming as if it’s channeling a surge of electricity. As if the orgasms from moments ago were nothing more than an appetizer before the main course.
“Fuck,” Malice groans, his breath hot against my neck. “You’re impossible to resist. Can’t get enough of you.”
I drag my nails down his back, pressing against him. “I need more,” I gasp out. “I need you.”
He growls, and when he pulls back, there’s something intense and almost feral in his eyes. His fingers find their way between my legs, and he touches me roughly, rubbing along my wet slit.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans. “You know what I was thinking about the whole time you touched yourself?”
I shake my head, gripping one of the couch cushions like an anchor as I spread my legs wider, relishing the burn in my inner thighs. “What?”
“How badly I wanted to come over here and touch you myself. I wanted to bite down on your tits, really make you scream. I wanted to pull your hand out of the way and fuck you myself. To impale you on my fingers and then my cock, until I was all you were thinking about.”
“You already were all I was thinking about,” I pant. “I wanted that so much. Fuck, please. Show me how it would’ve been. Please.”
I don’t have to ask twice.
We’re past that by now.
The time for begging this man to touch me is fully in the rearview mirror.
Faster than I can blink, Malice is moving. He presses me down so my back is against the smooth, cool leather of the couch, kneeling on the cushions between my legs. He looms over me, broad-shouldered and so much bigger than I am, but I don’t feel afraid.
Let other people fear this man. I never will.
In this moment, all I feel is desperately turned on and hungry for more.
His mouth descends on my chest, and I whimper as he starts nipping at my breasts, biting and sucking on them like he wanted to earlier. He mimics the way I was pinching my own nipples, trapping them between his teeth, and the sharp bites of pain just add to the fire building in my veins.
I writhe on the couch, my hips bucking up against his body, holding on to his arms just to have something to ground me.
“Malice,” I moan, his name spilling from my lips like a prayer. “Malice, Malice, Malice.”
He licks one nipple, soothing the ache left behind from his teeth, and then goes to the other one, giving it the same treatment. By the time he raises his head from my chest, my skin is covered in bite marks, and my pussy is dripping.
“Keep your legs spread,” he commands. “Just like that. I want that pussy ready and waiting for me.”
He doesn’t look away from me for a second as he gets up just enough to start taking off his pants.
Even though I’ve already come twice, it’s like my body is making up for lost time, trying to overwrite every bad thing that’s happened to me since the last time Malice touched me by imprinting him on every inch of my skin.
He tears his shirt over his head, then shoves his jeans down and off, and the sight of it is enough to make my mouth water.
His tattooed cock juts out from his body, rock hard and wet at the tip.
It’s flushed, the veins standing out from the shaft, proof of just how close he is to exploding. How long he’s been waiting for this.
My pussy clenches, making another gush of wetness drip from my slit.
“You’re so hard,” I whisper, dragging my lip between my teeth.
Malice snorts, a hint of amusement sparking in his dark eyes.
“I’ve been hard since the first second you kissed me.
This is what you do to me, Solnyshka. You and your body and your unbreakable spirit.
Your heart and your fucking soul. Your gorgeous tits, covered in our marks, and that perfect pink pussy.
You fucking drive me wild. All I want—all I’ll ever want—is you. ”
“You can have me,” I tell him, raw honesty infusing my voice. “Please. I want you.”
“I know,” he says, laughing quietly. It’s low and dark, and the seductive edge of it climbs up my spine and leaves me shivering.
“I believe you, and I know what you need. You’ve made that clear enough.
I’m gonna fuck you just the way you want.
Gonna fill you up with my cock until you can’t even remember your own fucking name. Until all you can say is mine.”
I whimper at the promise in his words, and when he puts his hands on me again, every nerve ending in my body reacts to his touch, lighting up like the finale of a fireworks show.
“Turn over for me. Face down and ass up. Good girl.”
He flips me over and then guides me up onto my elbows and knees on the couch. With my back arched and my ass up in the air like this, I’m completely exposed to him. There’s nowhere to hide, and he can see everything.
But that’s what I want. I want him to see it… and I want him to take it.
As if he can read my mind, Malice grabs my ass, squeezing hard enough that I know he’s going to leave fingerprints behind. “I like that you don’t hide from me, Solnyshka. It only makes me crave you more.”
He doesn’t waste time, doesn’t tease me. One second, I feel him moving behind me, and then the next, he’s slamming his cock right into my pussy.
I cry out, my body shaking from the force of it.
I’m so wet that it’s not hard for him to work himself inside me in one go, but his tattooed cock is so thick that I can still feel the burn of the stretch as he goes in deep. My pussy wraps around him, my inner walls clinging to his hard shaft like I’m trying to keep him from ever moving.
But he manages to draw himself out, only to slam right back in, setting a hard, furious pace.
His fingers dig into the skin of my hips, and the sound of our skin slapping together echoes through the living room. The couch creaks and groans under us as Malice plows into me, and eventually my arms give out entirely, leaving me face down and ass up on the couch.
“This is how we’re supposed to be,” Malice growls, dragging me back by the hips into each deliciously deep thrust. “Bound together like this. You full of my cock. Taking it like you were made for me. Fuck, you were made for me, weren’t you? Weren’t you?”
He punctuates that question with another hard punch of his hips, and I cry out, my fingers scrabbling against the leather of the couch.
“Yes,” I practically sob. “God, yes. I was made for you. For you and your brothers. Please!”
“Please, what? What do you want? More? You want me to fuck you harder?”
I nod, too overcome to force the words out. I can already feel a perfect, indescribable ache building deep inside me, but I want more of him. I want all he can give me.
He drives himself in deeper and harder, and each thrust feels like it’s wringing pleasure out of my body. I’m drowning in it, struggling to remember to breathe, wailing with each slam of his hips.
Malice hauls me up at some point, wrapping his hand around my throat. I gasp against the force of it, my back arched, crying out his name on a broken moan as he fucks into my body so deep that I swear I can feel it in my belly.
The sound of skin on skin is almost deafening in the living room, and the couch creaks and groans under us. But all that really matters is the way his cock feels buried in me, slamming up into my body, leaving me a soaking, swollen mess.
I can feel myself hurtling toward the edge of pleasure, almost ready to topple over it and fly headfirst into another orgasm.
“Oh my god,” I gasp out. “Oh—oh my—”
“Are you close?” Malice demands. He slams his cock in harder, and I nearly sob with the pleasure it sparks in me.
“Yes,” I blurt, nodding as if the words might not be enough. “I’m so close, please—”
“Touch yourself,” he orders. “Rub that clit while I fuck your pretty cunt. Get yourself off.”
I obey him immediately. My hand flies up between my legs, and I let Malice’s body support me, keeping me from toppling face first onto the leather of the couch.
My pussy is soaking wet by now, and my fingers slip and slide around as I touch myself. I can feel where Malice is buried in me, feel the way he slams in and out, forcing my body to accommodate his large size.
It makes my breath catch to feel him fucking me like this, to have his cock brush against my fingers as they work their way up to the sensitive nub of my clit.
As soon as the tips of my fingers touch it, I bite down hard on my lip. I’m so sensitive, so overstimulated, and I know this isn’t going to take long.
I rub the little bundle of nerves in quick, small circles, almost matching the pace of Malice’s cock as he bottoms out inside me again and again.
“That’s it,” he pants, his voice like gravel. He drops his head, his raspy growl falling right into my ear. “That’s it. Touch yourself. Feel how fucking wet you are. How needy you are for this. I wanna feel you come on my cock, Solnyshka. I wanna feel your pretty pussy milk me dry.”
I sob my pleasure as he speaks, each sentence punctuated by another hard thrust of his cock.
My fingers fly over my clit, and my hips buck wildly, trying to ride out the pleasure that’s threatening to drown me the longer this goes on. It’s like a rubber band, stretching tighter and tighter, filling my belly with that impossibly hot fire until it snaps, letting it all rush forth.
I scream Malice’s name as I come, shaking and gasping for air. The force of my climax makes it hard to breathe, and Malice holds me through it, working his cock in and out with long, deep thrusts.