Chapter 33 Willow
thirty-three
Willow
“That judge better not ask those kinds of questions if he cares about his life,” he says, skimming my chin with the ridge of his nose, dipping down to furrow my neck.
“I think you’re who wants to know, and my question is, if Cass hadn’t said anything, when were you going to tell me?
” He unclasps the top of my dress, and the delicious sound of the zipper tears over our heavy breathing while his fingers barely skim my back. “Answer me.”
Damn Cassandra. But also, maybe not. “You weren’t supposed to know,” I admit.
He rears back and I miss the feel of his skin already. “Why not?”
“I’m-It’s embarrassing.”
He laughs. “You, embarrassed?” His laughter dies down, his gaze turning soft. “Must be true, then.” He takes my mouth in a soft kiss, then deepens our embrace, pulling me flush against him again, his heartbeat as fast as mine.
I run my hands in his hair, and he hoists my legs up on him, taking us to the couch. He sets me on the back of it and pulls his shirt off in one movement. My eyes fall to his flat stomach, the muscles rippling under a dusting of hair, then to the bulge in his pants.
“It’s yours, Willow. Take it.” He strokes himself through his pants, then unbuckles his belt and opens up.
Swallowing with difficulty, I pull myself up and stroke him through his boxer shorts. “I’m on the Pill,” I whisper, “and I haven’t been with anyone in… I don’t know how long.”
“Fuck,” he grunts. “Same. But I can still…” he hisses “try and find a condom if you prefer.”
I free his cock, wetness instantly pooling between my legs. “No.” Pulling him to me with one hand behind his ass, I take him in my mouth.
“Jeeeesus,” he hisses. “I thought I said I haven’t been with anyone in a very long time.”
I look up at him, taking him deeper, my tongue relishing the salty bead of precum. I just want to make Noah Callaway come, and I don’t know what that says about me.
“The first time I come is going to be inside my wife.”
I nod, sucking him harder.
He pulls himself off of me. “Fucking hell. Inside my wife’s pussy.” Then he flips me on my stomach. “You should know, you have the most perfect, erotic ass.” He slaps my butt cheek, making me shriek in surprise but also… that was hot.
I glance at him over my shoulder.
“You like that, don’t you?” Another slap on the other cheek, just enough to give me a tingle and a clench of my middle.
“Aaaah, my wife likes a light spanking. What an interesting discovery.” Another slap, and the zing of pleasure shoots straight to my nipples.
“I shouldn’t be surprised. Your ass should be X-rated,” he says as his hand roughly kneads my butt cheeks.
I’m pulsating, hoping for more, arching my back.
“No one should see it molded in jeans,” he continues, “or that fucking little summer dress you wore at the store and you had the gall to get on your knees and lift your butt and ahhhhh.” He pulls my hair in his fist. “Just so you know, I’m going to ride your sweet little cunt while looking at your perfect butthole. ”
He runs a finger alongside my clit and I moan.
“Fucking hell, Willow. You. Are. Soaked.” He enters me with two fingers, and I clench around him.
“That’s what I’m talking about. Fucking pulsating for me and I did nothing at all.
You waiting for me, wifey? You want your husband to fuck you properly, don’t you? ”
I want to tell him to just shut up and fuck me already, but the only sound that comes out of my mouth is a needy whine.
“What was that?” he growls.
“Fuck me, please.”
“Atta girl.” Another slap, and his cock drives into me, making me buck and clench the fabric of the couch.
“You said a lot of things about how my marriage should go.” His fingers dig deep into my hips, possessive.
“But you never said how I was supposed to feel when I fucked my wife,” he drops as he pulls out to better plunge into me again.
I arch my back under the pleasure of his cock filling me, jutting my hips to him so he hits the hilt. I let out a moan when I feel his balls.
“Willow,” he grunts.
“Harder,” I answer.
He gives me a few agonizingly slow movements, and leans over my back, wrapping me closer into him, one hand reaching for my breast, massaging it until two fingers narrow on my nipple and he worries them. I almost come.
“Oh, Noah, keep going, keep going.”
He lets go of my breast, nibbles on my shoulder, stroking in and out of me, and his left hand runs down my arm until our wedding bands are aligned. He takes a ragged breath, then kisses the crux of my neck.
Pulling out, he carries me to the bed. “I want to see your gorgeous face when you come,” he explains. “But we need to talk a little.”
Talk? I mean sure, if he’s doing the talking.
Noah Callaway married me and is making love to me, when not so long ago I was still a nobody to him.
There is no way in hell I am able to talk.
But of course he doesn’t know the magnitude of the earthquake that’s been going on in my heart from the moment Cassandra outed me, up to the surreal moment when he carried me over the threshold.
Returning to the moment, I try to focus on only enjoying the sight of his pecs flexing over me, his biceps framing me, his six-pack clenching as his cock enters me. I could do this all night. Probably will. I can think on the big picture later.
Setting himself up on his forearms, he pulls back again, then enters me at an agonizingly slow pace. “You never said,” he says.
My inside clenches around him, and I loop one leg higher on him to pull him closer to me.
“Na-na-na-na-na,” he says, resisting my pull. He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. His cock pulses inside me, but heck if that shows on his face. I know that expression. He frowns like he wants to talk.
“Babe—”
“Babe?” He looks amused. “I like that.” He looks somewhere above my head then repeats, “Babe.” Then he huffs, “Never been called babe before.”
I drop my hips to the mattress, my pussy drying up. “Really.”
“Really, what?”
“You’re bringing your exes right in the middle of our first time having sex?”
His cock pulses inside me, and god dammit, just the feel of that and I get wet again. That and the way he looks at me, feral, hungry, possessive as fuck.
“Jealous?” he dips his mouth to my breast, sucking on my nipple.
“Noah,” I plead.
He runs his hand down the length of me, until he finds my clit with the pad of his thumb.
He sucks and teases and finally moves his hips again, helping me chase an orgasm I deeply need, if only to erase the frustration.
I get into a promising rhythm, then he lets go of my nipple with a pop and says, “So, about my ideal wife…”
What the hell is he talking about? The guy needs to shut up. “Almost there, babe,” I whine, pushing his head down toward my breast.
He stops moving inside me. “You in a hurry to go somewhere?” He’s frowning at me, like I’m this mystery he’s trying to figure out.
I close my eyes in frustration. “Alright, let’s just… What’s going through your mind right now?” It can’t be that bad, because he’s hard as a rock inside me.
A slow smile spreads across his face. “I thought you’d never ask.”
For real? I’d laugh at that, but the way his biceps are bulging right next to my breasts, the way his neck is tense right above me, the way the vein is bulging on his forehead… I don’t understand how he wants to talk when clearly all signs indicate he wants to fuck me.
“Is this… is this some kind of weird sex game nerds like to play? Cos I wouldn’t know.”
His cock deflates a tad. Guess that must have hurt. “See how it feels when we bring exes into the bedroom?” Keep frustrating me sexually, and the sass comes right out.
“I’m sorry you’ve only known inarticulate bedmates,” he says.
“Must have been boring as hell.” He withdraws and starts a slow descent of his mouth down my torso.
Laving the breast that didn’t get any attention yet, he uses his teeth just to the limit of pain, cupping my pussy with his hand.
He slides a finger down my center, all the way to my butthole, his thumb pad barely skimming my clit.
Leaving my breast, he lowers himself slowly, peppering kisses on my stomach while he continues teasing both my entrances with one hand. “Remember when you gave me that whole speech about how I should feel when I propose to my wife?” He lifts his head, gaze locked on mine, awaiting an answer.
“Yeah?” I’m not sure what he’s talking about, if I’m being honest.
“You had all these ideas about the wedding and the babies wearing glasses.”
Oh, that. Right.
He presses two fingers on my butthole while his thumb enters me, the feeling new and scary and so good. “You forgot something.”
Oh god. What now?
He lifts his gaze to me, spearing me with his darkened irises. “Well like I said, you forgot something. You forgot to say that the first time I’d make love to her, I should feel reborn.”
My heart swells at his words. The sass has left the building.
With his free hand, he cups my throat. “Like Superman. Yet humbled.”
I blink out the tears of overwhelm that threaten to spill. Noah. This is how Noah thinks about me.
He flips us over so I straddle him. “You forgot to say I’d feel like a god and a slave at the same time,” he says, palming my breasts. “Like her master and her servant.”
I move on his cock, and we stay that way for a little bit, the weight of his words engulfing me.
He slaps the side of my butt cheek. “Now ride your husband like a good little housewife,” he orders, circling my waist with his strong hands and spearing me on his cock, “before I fuck you properly.”
He keeps his promise. After I come undone on him, he sets me on my knees against the headboard and takes me from behind, one flexed arm against the wall, the other holding me, fingers teasing my nipple.
He sucks on my neck. “I was thinking about you in the shower, Willow, I hope you know that. But, fuck, your cunt is so much better than I ever thought it could be. You forgot to say my wife’s pussy should feel like it was custom-made for me.
The exes can come in the bedroom and take a lesson.
You’re the best I’ve ever had. And I want to be the best for you. ”
He rams into me harder, his words morphing into grunts, his hands gripping my waist. I feel another orgasm build, weeks of suppressed need finding their release, and let it roll out as he empties himself inside me, clenching me close to him.
We collapse on the bed, and he pulls me against his chest as we catch our breaths.
He kisses my forehead, the most tender look in his eyes. Then his gaze moves to the window, where the moon is rising, shining bright, the tall trees casting shadows on the bedroom walls.
“When I asked you to marry me, by the lake at the wedding, and you turned me down… You also said something about butterflies in my stomach and losing my appetite. That the woman I marry should do that to me.”
That sounds like something I would say, so I nod.
“You do that to me, Willow. And a lot more.” A sad smile plays on his face. “I don’t understand why I never looked at you in this way before.”
My heart falters a bit. “It’s because I’m not the right match for you, Noah,” I croak. “Your family—”
“That’s BS and you know it,” he interrupts me, his voice snapping.
“The truth is, you scared me. Still do. You fly through life while I trudge.” But when I fly, it’s from fear.
“Where I stay put out of fear or duty, you trailblaze” Wrong again.
I try new things because I don’t like the present me.
“I mistook our difference for incompatibility. I was wrong.” His breath stutters. “I was awestruck.”