Chapter 21 #2
She inhales sharply, and the world warps as time pauses—long enough for me to watch her lips part, and her gaze dart from my eyes to my mouth before she tilts her chin upward.
I skim my arm up her side and over her shoulder, taking her face between both of my hands.
She blinks at me, long lashes fluttering with captivating temptation as she nods, and those immersive blue eyes fall closed.
I drop my mouth to hers, capturing her lips. The touch sends shockwaves rattling my bones as heat rushes through my veins when she sighs, melting into me. Her nails dig into my forearms, and I’m hyperaware of the warmth at each place our skin brushes.
I’m kissing Willow. Willow is kissing me.
It’s that familiar sensation—breaking the surface, inhaling salt air, light and bright and bursts of color. The sun peeking through clouds. It’s all amplified tenfold when she gasps against my lips, offering me the gift of her breath.
After a lifetime of being numb, she tears me open, flooding me with feeling—filling every void inside me with her light.
I move slowly, a languid feathering of my lips over hers, but Willow is hungrier. Moaning into my mouth, her tongue slips over my teeth, and I groan when I open to allow her in. With long, sultry strokes, we explore each other fiercely. A mess of tangled tongues and muffled whimpers.
I spin her, slamming the door shut with my foot.
Never breaking the kiss, I scoop under her thighs and haul her around my waist, walking her back into the bedroom.
She locks her arms around my neck, devouring me with teeth and tongue as I gently set her on the bed.
Willow takes me with her as she falls back on the mattress, moaning when my weight envelops her.
She moves her mouth from mine, dragging her lips over my jaw and down my throat as she bucks her hips against me.
My cock is fucking raging, and I can’t help but grind down on her.
She cries out at the friction, and it spurs me on further.
It takes everything in me to lift my head and gulp for air—because I’d be all too happy to drown inside her instead.
“Willow,” I rasp, pinning a hand against her stomach to still her movement. “Baby, I . . .”
“I’m sorry.” She unlocks her hold around my neck, sliding her palms down my chest as I sit back on my heels, towering over her. She’s an angel beneath me, gold hair splayed across my pillows, face flushed from my touch, lips swollen from my kiss.
Mine, some internal, animalistic, baser form of myself snaps.
“Don’t be sorry. Never be sorry.” I shake my head, panting. “I just . . . I need to go slow. I’m . . . I don’t have a lot of experience,” I admit.
Her brows draw together, breasts spilling over her tank top as her chest heaves. My cock throbs.
“You’ve never kissed anyone before?”
“I have, but that’s about it.” I laugh roughly, rubbing my jaw.
“My lab partner in eleventh-grade chemistry. We were friends, I guess. I thought I wanted something more—tried to force myself to want something more because I felt like I should. But after it happened . . .” I shrugged.
“I didn’t think I was experiencing what I should have when kissing someone, so I . . . I never really tried again.”
Willow props herself onto her elbows, hair spilling over her shoulder as she tilts her head.
“Nothing at all?”
“Well, Willow,” I deadpan. “I did spend nearly two years in jail starting at the ripe young age of seventeen, so I’m not sure when I would’ve had time to explore sexually.”
She snorts a laugh. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” I smile softly. “But I meant it when I said I can’t risk fucking this up with you.”
“I think you’re doing great,” she mewls, lips curling into the kind of salacious smirk that has my cock pulsing. “We don’t have to go any further than this tonight. I just want to be close to you.”
I fall forward, bracketing her head with my arms as I press into the mattress, smiling down at her. “I want that too.”
She slides a palm beneath my shirt, dragging her hand up my bare chest. By the way my skin heats at her touch, I’m sure if I looked at my flesh right now, there’d be a trail of flame left in her wake.
“We can still . . .” She sighs heavily, eyes tracking the movement of her hand as my shirt raises with her movement, bunching beneath my shoulders.
“We can make each other feel good without going too far.” Her glowing eyes flutter upward, and I’m drowning in them. “I can show you.”
I whimper in response.
Willow Graham fucking owns me.
All I want is to sink into her embrace and let her heal every wound I never believed could stop bleeding.
“Show me, Wills.”
She tosses me a sultry grin, pressing against my chest. “Sit up.”
I obey, and she grabs the hem of my shirt, motioning for me to remove it. As I do, she lifts her hips, slipping off the cotton shorts she’s wearing, kicking them to the floor and leaving her in nothing more than pale pink panties and a tempting white tank.
Her legs fall open, and I desperately want to pull those panties to the side and see how wet she is beneath them.
I want to ask her if it’s all for me and beg her to let me taste her.
I’ve never experienced a carnal urge like this, as if my body knows exactly what it wants even if my mind can’t be sure.
Until all of me is aligned, I’ll follow her lead.
“Come here,” she whispers.
I fall over her again, cupping her face and tangling my fingers in the hair at her nape as I drop into the cradle between her legs, allowing my mouth to hover over hers. “Like this?”
I press into her, and she moans. “Yeah, like that. Roll your hips, Wes. Like you’re carving a gentle wave. My body is your tide.”
“Fuck,” I groan, kissing her hard.
She speaks in terms I can understand, painting an image I can envision. I pump against her, channeling all of the flow and fluidity I’ve gained in my years as an athlete. Grinding hard enough that I can feel the friction of our bodies, but not enough that I’m crushing her, I begin a steady rhythm.
She groans louder as I kiss down her jaw and over her neck, nipping her collarbones and suckling the skin of her breasts. Tasting and teasing and savoring every inch of her I can access with my mouth.
One of her hands tangles in my hair, while the other holds my hip, increasing the pressure as she begins lifting her body to meet me halfway. I’m so fucking hard it hurts, a pleasure more primal and powerful than anything I’ve known begins to gather at the base of my spine.
I’ve experienced release, but never like this. Never like her.
“Willow, I—” I lift my head, finding her eyes searing through me.
“I know. Me too. Keep going,” she pants, begging. “Please, baby. Please.”
“Fuck.” My body reacts on instinct, bucking faster, harder. “Keep calling me that.”
She cries out, and both our bodies enter a craze of flushed limbs and desperate need. That pleasure in my spine grows unbearably hot, coiling into something I’m struggling to hold back. My mind scatters, my pace becoming chaotic.
“Yes, baby,” Willow cries. “Yes. I’m—”
When Willow’s entire body tightens, legs locking around my waist and drawing me into her, tying us together as her hands tug at my hair, and the softest, sweetest, “. . . coming,” falls from her lips, I fucking unravel.
Burying my head in her neck, the power of my release flies from my lips and lands upon her skin.
Light flashes behind my eyes, white and blinding.
My cock pulsates as I spill a seemingly never-ending climax into my pants.
I’m gripping the sheets so hard they may tear, and Willow claws into my shoulder with what I imagine must be the same intensity.
Her locked legs tremble around my hips, her heart pounding fiercely against my chest.
“Willow,” I whisper against her jaw. “Willow.”
I can’t stop saying her name, I think I need the reminder she’s here. She’s real. I’m tasting her skin and touching her body. It’s her breath against my ear, her thighs I just lost myself between. Even with the barrier of clothing, it’s the most soul-baring experience of my life.
I’m fucking raw—undone. Ruined.
It takes an embarrassing amount of time for me to regain my strength before I finally rise onto my arms and pull back to gaze down at her. She blinks at me, pupils blown and eyes half-lidded. She slips a swollen lip between her teeth before she bursts with a giggle and hides her face in the pillow.
I sit back on my knees. “What? Did I do something wrong?”
Her gaze snaps to me, brows drawn in concern. “No, Wes . . . No.” She props onto her forearms, smiling wistfully. “You’re incredible. I’m sorry. That reaction was all me.”
“Why?” I ask, running a hand through my hair, chest still heaving as I attempt to catch my breath.
“I just . . .” She lifts her head toward the ceiling. “I can’t believe I orgasmed from dry humping.” Willow laughs, covering her eyes. “I feel like I’m in high school.”
“That . . . um . . .” I clear my throat. “That wasn’t a normal thing for you?”
“No, Wes. That is the first time that’s ever happened to me.
I was assuming we’d have to do a little hand stuff to get all the way there, but .
. .” She sighs, face flushing. “It’s been a while, and you make me feel so .
. .” She swallows, shaking her head with a sheepish grin. “You made it easier.”
“You made me less afraid.” I bite down a grin of my own.
I track her body, watching as she relaxes, turning from lust-hazed to sleepy and sated. Her legs are still open, and my neck heats when I realize there is a wet spot at the center of her panties that I can’t tell is from her or me.
“Yes, Weston. You made me come.”
My cock stirs at her velvet voice, and I’m damn-near ready to do exactly that again. I drop my head, noticing the much larger display of wetness across the front of my pants. “Well . . .” I swallow. “You did the same to me.”