Chapter 11
The glow of the candles and string of Christmas lights make Wyatt's expression rawer. He never takes his eyes off me.
The low flutter in my belly turns into a full-blown storm brewing in my core. It pushes deeper with every breath I take. My heart knows what's coming, or at least what I think it'll be like with Wyatt, yet it doesn't eliminate my nerves.
We've waited for years. I turned eighteen a few months ago and I thought we would have done it by now. Whenever we're together, and I think it'll happen, he pulls away and says we'll wait. At first, his restraint brought me relief. Now, it's driving me insane.
So the only thing I could think to get him for Christmas that meant anything was to give him me and show him I'm ready. So here we are, and it's finally going to happen.
His low, commanding voice rolls over me like honey laced with smoke. It's a demand that oozes over my skin. "Don't be shy or keep me waiting, sugar. The decision has been made, and I'm ready to open my gift." The heated war behind his eyes makes my pulse stutter.
I rise, and he reaches for me, but then pauses.
"What's wrong?" I fret.
"You started the pill, right?" he asks.
"Yes. I did months ago. You know that."
Even with my assurance, he still looks nervous.
I blurt out, "You're making me anxious."
He slowly exhales, stroking my thigh. "I'm not prepared. I don't have a condom."
"Why do we need a condom? I'm on the pill," I remind him.
He stares at me.
My stomach flips. "Wyatt?"
"If I got you pregnant—"
"You won't. I'm on the pill," I declare.
"Willow—"
"I'm not a child."
"I didn't say you were."
I point at him. "Then stop treating me like one."
"I'm not."
I scoff. "You are. I'm on the pill. Unless you have something I need to worry about catching, we don't have to use a condom."
Tense silence brews between us.
I put my hand over his, softening my tone. "Wyatt, do you want me or not?"
He groans. "You know I'm dying to have you, sugar."
"Then don't treat me like a child," I say, then add, "And don't treat me like a fragile virgin."
His lips twitch. "Fragile virgin?"
I nod. "Yeah. Don't pretend to be someone you're not."
He arches an eyebrow.
"You're sweet but arrogant. And I love that about you. So be yourself and take me how you want me."
He takes a deep breath, cocks a smile, then reaches for me, muttering, "Then get your sexy body over me like I told you to."
Relief envelops me. I giggle, sinking my knees on each side of his hips. Then I settle into his gaze, and the storm inside me resurfaces, twirling with anticipation.
He doesn't speak or move. He keeps his grip dominant around me. Every inch between us burns as he continues to showcase his discipline, making my thighs ache.
My virgin anxiety hits a high. "Wyatt—"
"Shh," he orders, grazing his thumb over my lips and assessing me until my skin is on fire.
It feels like he looks at me forever, and tension hangs heavy in the air.
He finally breaks it, muttering, "I want a photo, Willow. Can I take one?"
I take a shaky breath. "Of me?"
He grins. "Who else would I want one of?"
Another round of nerves hits me.
"It's just for me. I'll guard it with my life," he adds.
Stop being stupid.
Wyatt wouldn't show anyone.
"I know," I say, then kiss him, and reach into his back pocket, pulling out his phone.
"Sugar, you're my dream girl," he says approvingly.
Warmth spills through me like sunshine after a storm. "I am?"
He grunts and shakes his head. "How can you question that?"
I beam brighter.
He takes his phone, swipes it open, and snaps a photo, then stares at me for a minute.
"What?" I nervously ask.
He moves me off him, then rises. He directs, "Stretch out on the mattress for me."
I bite my lip and arch an eyebrow.
He leans down until he's an inch from my face, and in a low voice says, "I want to always have access to my present, even when you're not with me."
My ego skyrockets. "So you like my gift?"
He chuckles. "You have no idea."
"Good." I slide onto my back and pose in a few positions while he takes photos.
He turns it to video. "Tell me again what you're giving me for Christmas, sugar."
My cheeks heat. I pin my eyes on him, bat my lashes, and try to sound sexy, stating, "Me."
"Damn, darlin'…you're a whole wildfire."
My cheeks hurt from smiling.
"You want me to stretch that sweet little body of yours open, sugar?" he asks, his gritty tone so low it adds to the fire.
"Yes," I reply, my heart racing. Wyatt always talks dirty to me when we get intimate, and maybe I should be offended, but I never am. If anything, I crave more. Something about being the target of his words always makes me feel special.
He reaches for my thigh and slides his palm over it, slowly moving it closer to my torso. Then he gets right between them and makes a fist, pushing them open with his knuckles.
My breath hitches.
"Yeah. I think you want me in here," he teases, slipping the delicate lace to the side and taunting me with his finger.
I whimper.
"Is that a yes?" he asks, even though he knows he doesn't have to.
"Yes," I breathe, my chest rising and falling faster.
He steps back, his finger slick with my arousal, and keeps the camera aimed at me. "Ask me nicely to make you a woman while you pull at your bow. And use my name when you answer my questions," he orders.
My butterflies turn frantic. I slowly tug at the end of the red ribbon and ask, "Will you please make me a woman, Wyatt?" The bow turns to one long strand, and I toss it to the side of my body.
He unbuckles his belt one-handed, keeping his camera hand steady as he continues to film me. "This is what you want in you, sugar?" He pushes the denim over his ass, and the buckle slams on the wooden floor, echoing in the tiny cabin. He grips his shaft, giving it a few strokes.
My mouth waters. It's not the first time I've seen him naked, but it looks larger than ever.
Will it fit inside me?
Stop being a sissy.
I stick my chin out. "Yes. I want you in me, Wyatt."
He steps closer. "You want me to be the first to feel you tight, wet, and begging?"
My voice shakes. "Yes."
"I can't do it, Willow," he says in a guttural tone.
My heart stalls, and I gape at him. "Wh-why?"
His eyes turn darker. "I'm not breaking you in for others, my sexy girl. I'm ruining you for all other men if I take what you're offering me. Understand?"
I exhale a breath of relief. "Good. Only you, Wyatt."
"Forever?"
"Yes." I nod.
With a look of approval, he orders, "Then take your bra off."
I swallow hard, glancing at the camera.
"I need to see my gift forever, sugar," he reminds me, then adds, "Because there will never be another time like this. But don't worry, I'll re-watch it with you too."
My cheeks flare with fire.
He chuckles. "You don't know how sexy you are, Willow. I'm going to make you see it. Trust me. Now, be the confident girl I love, and take that bra off for me."
Courage fills me. I reach behind me, unclasp the hooks, and put an arm over my bust. I slide one arm out of the strap, then the other, and widen my eyes. Huskily I say, "You want this gone, Wyatt?"
His voice hums in the air. "Don't tease me. Or you'll pay for it."
I giggle, then dangle the bra on the side of the bed. I drop it on the floor. "Oops."
Wyatt's eyes flame, and his lips curve in a tight smile. His jaw twitches, and his gaze drops to my chest.
My nipples harden from his stare.
"That's it, sugar. Even your tits are begging for me," he rumbles.
"Yeah," I agree, breathless and aching for his hands on me.
He drags his gaze to my underwear. "Now, take off those panties and show me your beautiful pussy that I've been dying to break in." He repositions himself and the camera at the end of the bed.
A hundred thousand volts of pure electricity rush through my veins. I don't argue. I try to look sexy as I shimmy out of my panties. I hold them toward him on one finger. "Why don't you keep these?"
He groans. "Perfect, sugar." He snatches them away from me and holds them to his face. He breathes deeply and groans louder, muttering, "Love my gift."
Happiness and confidence surge through me. I drop my hand to my inner thigh and innocently ask, "What now?"
He studies me, then looks around the room.
I stay silent, unsure of what he's searching for.
He finally goes to the mantel, sets the phone on it, and points it toward the bed.
Nervously, I fret, "Is that still on?"
"Of course, sugar. You didn't think I would turn it off and miss recording this moment between us, did you?"
My chest tightens. "Ummm…" I swallow hard and bite my lip.
He sits on the side of the bed, caresses my thigh, and asks, "What's the problem?"
"Well…uh…"
"You don't trust I'll protect the video with my life?" he asks.
I shake my head. "No. That's not it."
He cups my face, bends over me, and kisses me for several minutes. Then he mumbles against my lips, "What's the issue, sugar?" He stares at me.
"What… What if I'm not good for you? Maybe we should record it another time?" I ask, letting my insecurities fly out.
He grunts, and the corners of his lips twitch. "That's not possible."
"It's not?"
"No." He says it with no room to argue.
I stay quiet, still worried.
He kisses me again, then says, "I'll make you a deal."
"What's that?"
"If you don't like the video, I'll delete it. But I promise you that you will," he says.
My nerves relax a little. "Okay. Um…"
He arches his eyebrows.
I blurt out, "How many videos do you have?"
"Of you?"
My stomach flips. "No. Of you with other girls."
His head jerks backward. "None, Willow. Only you."
"Really?" I ask, his response comforting me somewhat.
"Have I ever lied to you?"
I shake my head. "No."
A soft smile curves his lips. "Then don't doubt my truth. The only video I have is this one, and it's also the only one I'd ever want to watch."
Warmth floods my chest. "Good."