Chapter 31 Willow
Willow
My legs shake as they hit the floor, my body still humming from the way Carson unraveled me moments ago. I press my hands against his chest and shove—not in rejection, but in challenge.
“We aren’t done.”
Carson’s nostrils flare, chest heaving, pupils blown wide and glassy with lust. I brace for him to push back, to tell me no, to force the space I can’t seem to make myself give.
He doesn’t.
So I shove again, step by step, driving him back until his knees hit the bed. His fingers flex on my hips, grip brutal, caught between holding me in place and yanking me closer.
One more push and he drops with a grunt, landing on the mattress, his hands still clamped on me. His fingers bite into my skin as he drags me down with him, breath ragged, body wound tight—predator ready to snap.
I don’t give him the chance.
I shift onto his lap, straddling him, my knees bracketing his thighs, my hands trailing over his shoulders, his arms, his chest, learning every sculpted inch of him. His skin is hot beneath my fingertips, muscles flexing as I drag my nails lightly down his stomach.
His lips part, a low groan escaping.
He grips my hips tighter, barely holding himself back, barely containing the need vibrating through every inch of him.
“I shouldn’t let you do this,” he rasps.
I smirk, tracing my thumb over his bottom lip before leaning in to whisper, “I’m not asking permission.”
His breath hitches, his lashes lowering as his tongue flicks out, tasting the pad of my finger. Then, his eyes snap to mine.
“You on the pill?”
My pulse slams into overdrive.
“Yes.”
Carson moves.
His hands are suddenly everywhere—dragging my shorts down, slipping under my tank top, palming my breasts, mapping every inch of my body with desperate reverence.
In a blur of motion, I’m on my back, the weight of him pressing me into the mattress. His mouth crashes down on mine, his kiss hot and all-consuming, his tongue parting my lips and tangling with mine.
He tastes addictive. The kind of danger I should run from and already know I won’t.
His hands clamp down on my thighs, spreading me open as he settles between them. Solid. Hot. The weight of him pins me down, a shockwave of need tearing through me so fast it steals my breath.
“Fuck, peaches,” he groans, his mouth dragging down my neck, over my collarbone, moving lower—so much lower—until his teeth graze the sensitive skin beneath my navel.
I whimper, my hips arching toward him, shameless in my need.
Carson growls, gripping my thighs tighter, holding me down as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of my thigh.
“You want this?” he murmurs.
“Yes,” I breathe, my fingers twisting into the sheets.
“Say it.” His lips skim over the most sensitive part of me, the heat of his breath sending a shudder through my entire body.
“I need this,” I say, my voice breaking.
His mouth is relentless, his tongue stroking and teasing, pushing me to the brink of insanity. I cry out, my back arching, my fingers fisting his hair, pulling him closer, silently begging for more.
He groans against me, the sound vibrating through my core, sending me careening toward oblivion. When I shatter, it’s with his name on my lips. But he’s not done.
Carson kisses up my body, his mouth trailing heat along my skin, his hands guiding my legs around his waist. Then he’s there, pressing against me, his forehead resting against mine, his breath mingling with mine.
“Look at me,” he murmurs.
I force my heavy-lidded eyes open, meeting his molten gaze.
“Good, peaches, keep your eyes open.”
His hands tighten on my hips as he pushes into me, slow and deep, stretching me, filling me completely. I gasp, nails digging into his shoulders, my body trembling beneath him.
Carson lets out a filthy sound, jaw tight, every muscle strung as he holds on by a thread.
“You feel so fucking good,” he growls, his movements slow and deliberate, dragging pleasure through every nerve ending.
I moan, wrapping my legs tighter around his waist, tilting my hips, needing more.
“Faster,” I pant.
He doesn’t hesitate. He pounds into me, his rhythm ruthless, each thrust hitting deep, shattering every rational thought I have left.
I claw at his back, desperate, lost, spiraling toward another release as he fucks me as if he’s trying to brand himself into my soul.
I can’t breathe.
I don’t want to.
I just want this.
Want him.
Want this moment to never end.
Carson’s grip tightens, his rhythm faltering, his mouth crushing against mine in a kiss so possessive, so devastatingly perfect, that I explode. And as I shatter apart beneath him, I know—I’m completely fucked. In more ways than just one.