Chapter 22 Willow #3
It’s so intense that it’s almost too much, and I snatch my hand away from my clit, writhing against Malice as the orgasm rolls through me.
Every nerve in my body is firing all at once, it feels like, and everything is electric and white hot.
My vision goes dull around the edges, and I have to take huge gulps of air, trying to stay afloat.
“Good girl,” he growls. He bites down on my shoulder, hard enough that I feel it even through the haze of pleasure and disorientation. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this.”
He pulls out suddenly, and my body immediately mourns the loss of his hot cock inside it. I let out a pitiful whimper, and he chuckles as he kisses my shoulder.
His hands are rough and gentle at the same time as he flips me over, laying me down with my back against the leather of the couch. I stare up at him, lost in the burning heat of his gaze, and he stares right back at me.
“I need to fuck you like this,” he says roughly, emotions churning in his eyes. “Face to face. I need to see you.”
I swallow hard as he lifts my hips up with one hand and then guides his cock right back into my sopping pussy.
It’s just this side of too sensitive, and I shiver at the feeling, squirming in his hold.
“I can’t come again,” I tell him, sounding breathless and wrecked. “I can’t.”
“Say the safe word if you wanna stop.”
Malice freezes, going completely still, his cock only half buried inside me as he waits to see if I’m going to say it.
But I don’t.
I want this. I want him. I want to be pushed right up to the edge of what I can take, just so that I know I can take it. And more than anything, I want to feel this man come inside me.
He waits for another few seconds, and when I shake my head, my lips tilting up in a challenging grin, fierce pride rises up alongside the desire in his expression.
His answering grin is sinful, and he dips his head down to kiss me hard.
His teeth graze my lower lip, and his tongue delves into my mouth, intense and almost furious with need.
I can taste it in him, and I whimper into the kiss as he starts moving again.
When he pulls back, that heat is still in his eyes, but it’s tempered by something warm and possessive.
“I want you to come again for me,” he says lowly.
“I—”
“You can. Don’t think about anything else, Solnyshka. Just feel. Just let yourself have everything you deserve.”
He doesn’t look away from me for a second, rolling his hips and thrusting into me all the way to the root. It’s such a contrast to the hard, almost brutal way he was fucking me before. This is slow and deep, our gazes locked together.
I can feel every inch of him as he works his cock into me, and when he pulls out, my inner walls seem to cling to him, making the resulting drag of skin on skin so spine-tinglingly good.
Each time he buries himself in me, it’s a hard, penetrating feeling, and it rocks me to my core. I clutch at him, needing an anchor, needing to feel grounded, as I stare into his dark eyes.
He stares right back into mine, and it almost feels like we’re speaking without words.
I can feel the love coming from Malice. The protectiveness. The desire. All the things he’s willing to do for me and to me, just to keep me safe and happy. There’s no difference in the way he looks at me now, compared to how he looked at me before I got taken by Troy.
Nothing that happened has changed anything for him, except for making him more determined to keep me safe. But the feelings are the same. The love is the same.
All of a sudden, it’s so much. The emotions are filling me up, expanding inside my chest until there’s no more room to contain them. I gasp softly, overwhelmed and overcome, and tears well in my eyes and start to spill over.
“Willow?” Malice freezes again, alarm crossing his harsh features. He moves likes he’s going to pull out, but I wrap my legs around his waist and shake my head.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper. “You’re not hurting me. Please don’t stop.”
“Solnyshka,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t stop.
He keeps going, moving in steady strokes that somehow seem to match the waves of emotion coursing through me. He dips his head, kissing away the tears, his lips finding each one as they track down my cheeks.
“I love you,” he breathes. “Never gonna let anyone hurt you again. I swear it on my life. On my fucking soul. Never, Solnyshka. Never.”
My fingers slide over his heated skin, memorizing every line and curve of his muscled frame. He’s gotten a little sweaty just like I have, and I feel as if we’ve both been reduced to our most basic, raw state. We couldn’t hide anything from each other in this moment even if we tried.
Every atom in my body is attuned to him, and slowly, something hot begins to build low in my belly. The spark is muted at first, from me being oversensitive and emotional, but it’s there all the same.
And the deeper Malice fucks me, the more it grows.
Finally, I’m gasping his name, riding it out as the heat builds, taking over everything. When my fourth orgasm hits, I sob my way through it, writhing against him.
“That’s it,” he grunts. His hips stutter, and I know he’s close too. My pussy ripples around his cock, spasming with my pleasure, and he lets out a choked noise. “Fuck, just like that. Oh fuck, I’m—”
He breaks off with a growl as he follows me over the edge, coming hard. His arms tremble with the effort of holding himself up, and once he’s ridden out his own orgasm, he collapses on top of me.
My chest heaves as I try to get air into my lungs, my head spinning. My body tingles in a good way, feeling sore and overworked, but… better than before. Every muscle in me is loose and light, my skin slowly cooling from the exertion as I lie beneath him with my eyes closed.
I know I’m a mess, covered in sweat and tears and cum, but Malice finally lifts his head from the crook of my neck, he gazes at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“What?” I ask, smiling a little.
He just shakes his head, shoving his dark hair back with one hand before leaning down to kiss me. “You good?”
“Yeah.” I nod, letting out a soft, shaky breath. “I’m good.”
Malice searches my face, as if he’s trying to figure out if I’m telling the truth or not, but whatever he sees must give him some comfort. There’s none of the anxious light in his eyes that was there before, and its absence bolsters me even more.
“I needed that,” I tell him, tracing my fingers up and down his arm.
“Seemed like it might have been the opposite of what you needed,” he says, shifting his weight on top of me a little, although he makes no move to pull out yet.
I bite my lip, trying to figure out how to put it into words for him so he’ll understand.
“It’s been hard, since you guys saved me. I felt like a stranger in my own skin, almost. There were all these things I wanted, all these things I’d been working so hard to accept that I was into, and suddenly, I couldn’t handle them anymore. It made me feel broken.”
Malice frowns, reaching up to brush hair back from my face. “You’re not broken. And that’s not all we want from you, Solnyshka. Even if you never wanted those things again, it’s not like we would stop caring about you.”
“I know.” I nod, gripping his forearm lightly. “You’ve all been so patient with me. But I missed this. I missed you. And to be honest, almost nothing in the world has ever made me feel as strong as being fucked by you does. I wanted to reclaim that.”
He’s quiet for a moment, as if he’s processing my words. Then he snorts. “So that’s why you jumped me after we got home.”
I chuckle at his phrasing, but I nod, because he’s not wrong. “Yeah. I just really needed to do something with the way I was feeling. So thank you. For letting me get that out. For giving me what I needed and taking care of me the way I needed to be taken care of.”
His hard features soften a little as he smiles. “I always will, you know. I’m always gonna be there for you when you need me.”
He leans down, pressing his forehead to mine. It’s such a tender gesture, one I would’ve once thought Malice was incapable of, but now I know better. He’s got so much more inside him than I realized at first, and I feel lucky to be one of the few people in the world he lets in like this.
I reach up and thread my fingers through his thick dark hair, savoring the moment. The closeness.
Malice pulls out after a while, and I wince at the rush of cum and the soreness in my pussy. I’m a complete mess, and when he looks down at me as he tugs his pants back on, a possessive grin splits his face.
“Proud of yourself?” I ask teasingly.
“Always when it comes to wrecking you.” He smirks, his gaze darkening all over again. “I’ll be right back.”
He heads to the bathroom and comes back with a damp cloth, and I lie still, letting him clean me up. There’s only so much he can do with the cloth, considering how messy I am, but it feels good to let him take care of me like this.
His fingers follow the path of the cloth in the aftermath, sliding tenderly over the tattoos that he etched onto my chest and shoulder. He studies them intently, and then something glints in his eyes.
“I’ll be right back,” he says again.
I push myself up onto my elbows, watching in confusion as he strides out of the room. I half expect him to come back with snacks or water or something, since we definitely worked up an appetite. But instead, he returns with his tattooing gear in hand.
It’s brand new. He bought it to replace the kit he left behind in Mexico when we had to flee in the middle of the night, and my stomach flutters at the sight of it.
“Are you going to give me another tattoo?” I ask, anticipation already making goosebumps spread over my skin.
He shakes his head, cocking one dark eyebrow in something almost like a challenge.
“Not this time, Solnyshka. You’ve got my mark on you. Three of them, actually. Now I want your mark on me.”