Chapter 29
WILLOW
I’m drowning in the storm-blue eyes that tether my gaze, his words cascading across my heated skin, sinking into the depths of my bones.
I don’t have words for it—any of it. The conviction in his voice strikes a chord inside my chest, the current between us echoing with a transcendent hum.
There is no description in existence for the way he feels inside me, filling every hollow gap my past tore open.
“Wes,” I whisper, folding forward to align our faces. “I—”
He hushes me, understanding it too—this sensation beyond language.
One hand glides up my spine while the other finds my face, brushing away the loose hair stuck to my sweat-slicked skin before bracketing my jaw.
He feathers his lips over mine, swallowing the moan he pulls from me when he rolls his hips, inching deeper.
We trade breath—Wes sighing into my mouth when I rock against him. I slide my tongue over his, eagerly tasting his sounds of desire. He drags that hand down my back, grasping my ass as he flushes us closer.
“You feel so good, love,” he rasps against my flesh, pulling my bottom lip between his teeth. “You’re ruining me.”
“I know,” I moan, his bite slicing through me as I break free from his hold, pressing against his chest and flattening him against the pillows. “Let me ride it.”
His eyes roll back, the hand on my ass gripping hard enough to bruise. “I’m not going to last long.”
“That’s okay,” I whisper as I lift up before slamming back down. “I’m going to take care of you, baby.”
“Fuck.” A fractured sound catches in his throat, his entire body bowing as he pulses inside me.
I set a punishing pace, bouncing on his cock while rotating my hips in a circular motion. Weston’s head sinks into the pillows, the tendons in his neck flexing with each aching groan that leaves his mouth. His skin glistens, eyes shut tight, jaw clenched—face twisted with pure ecstasy.
His hips begin snapping, meeting each grind of mine down on him, the salacious slap of our joining mingles with the echoes of our impassioned panting through the otherwise quiet house.
“Willow,” he murmurs brokenly, like he can hardly find the words. His eyes open, half-lidded and swimming in bliss. “I need it to feel good for you too.”
“It does,” I promise. I don’t know how he doesn’t realize it—I’m trembling with every movement we make, he’s so deep I’m certain he can feel the hammering of my pulse from the inside of my body.
“I need you to come,” he rasps. “With me. Please. Fuck. I’m so close. I need—”
I don’t slow my movements, I don’t pause, because I’m close too.
I grasp the hand splayed around my waist and drag it between my legs.
Covering his fingers with my own, I slide them down until we’re both pressed against the place our bodies join—feeling the way I move atop him, the way he thrusts into me.
“Feel that.” I flex our fingers, forcing them to brush against my clit, a whimper clawing at the roof of my mouth from the pressure. I set a rhythm—soft, languid strokes of his hand over my swollen and sensitive bud. “Feel us,” I whisper.
“We’re so good together,” he growls.
I’m quivering uncontrollably, my moans crescendoing to a height that could rattle the foundation of the house itself. Weston’s fingers work at me with precision, my pace becoming chaotic as he swells inside me, chasing his own release.
“Willow,” he murmurs through clenched teeth, nails digging into my hips as his eyes flare—a thousand shades of blue shattering like glass when his body goes taut, stomach tightening before his cock surges with the weight of his climax.
He continues bucking—fucking me through it, nothing if not determined to get me there too.
The coiled heat in my core and the pressure of his hand against my clit bursts, sparks blanketing my vision as an orgasm rips me apart.
My back arches, hands raking at his sweat-slicked chest as his name flies from my mouth.
We rock against each other fervently, wringing every last drop of the pleasure coursing through our veins, before slowing our movements as we float down from the stars together. I collapse onto his chest, the sound of our mixed staccato breathing filtering through the lust-hazed air.
Weston’s heart pounds against my ear, matching the drumming of my own—as if our joining synched us together, creating a symbiotic force all its own.
We lie in stunned silence for what could be hours—I’ve lost the ability to tell time. Weston’s knuckles drift up and down my spine until my breathing evens out and our heartbeats regulate. He’s still inside me, but I don’t have the strength to separate from him quite yet.
“Willow,” he whispers into the darkness.
“Yeah?”
“That was the best sex of my life.”
The most obnoxious snort tears from my nose, and I turn my head to rest my chin on his chest, peering up at him. He tosses me a crooked smile that forces a laugh from me. “I hate you.”
He brushes the wild hair from my face. “No, you don’t.”
I scrunch my nose, unable to even mock a frown when he’s looking at me like this—studying me with rapt adoration, tilting his head and touching my skin like he’s not sure I’m even real. When I’m post-orgasm high, and safe in the arms of a partner for what may truly be the first time. “No. I don’t.”
I lift off him, both of us sighing as he leaves me empty. He rises out of bed, disposing of the condom before returning and pulling me onto his chest. “Does it always feel like that?”
“It’s never felt like that for me before,” I whisper against his skin.
He dips his chin, peering down at me through his lashes. “Really?”
I nod. “It felt like . . . more. I can’t explain it.
” I sigh softly. “Like you weren’t just inside me, you were all over me.
Like my breath was your source of oxygen and my touch was bringing you to life.
” I laugh breathlessly. “I’m struggling to find the words, but you made me feel .
. . essential, Weston. Every other time made me feel like my body was better than their hand, but you make me feel like your entire soul rests in the palm of mine. ”
“It does, I think,” he admits on a rough exhale, lips drifting over my temple. “I was serious, Wills. You are devastatingly perfect. I don’t need all the experience in the world to know it’ll never feel like this with someone else.”
I hum in agreement, nodding against him. “Do you feel okay? No regrets?”
He laughs from deep in his chest, and it rumbles against my ear, mixing with his heartbeat.
“No regrets, Wills. Not a single one.” His hand splays over my spine, fingers gliding over my back.
“I think you unraveled me entirely, and I’ll be craving you every second of the day for the rest of my existence, but .
. . fuck. I’m not complaining about it.” His eyes flash to mine, crinkling in the corners with the smile he offers me. “You’re everything.”
I cup his cheek, brushing my thumb over his bottom lip. “You’re everything too.”
I’m stirred to consciousness the following morning by the rock hard rod digging relentlessly into my lower back. I press against it, earning a groan from Weston as he stretches his limbs and begins to wake. “It’s too early to be brandishing a weapon like that.”
His thick laugh skates across the nape of my neck, dripping down my spine warm and slow.
His lips brush against my shoulder before I roll to face him, finding a sleepy, sated smile on his handsome face.
His deep blue eyes are brighter than they’ve ever been, catching on the morning light filtering through the window above us.
“Your fault,” he rasps, arching his hips and pressing his cock into my stomach.
I respond with a small moan as I lift my hand to his face, brushing back the hair on his forehead. “How’d you sleep?”
“Same as I always do beside you. Perfectly.”
My lips quirk, chest filling with honey at the sound of his voice. “You still feel okay? About everything?”
“Yeah, Wills.” His brows draw together, lips pursing—a contemplative look, like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “I feel perfect. This is perfect.”
Perhaps I’m checking in too much, but I want to ensure he’s okay with this. With us. With me. I tilt my head, peering up at him, uncertainty swirling inside me. “It felt good for you, though? I . . .” I swallow. “My . . . It felt okay?”
He draws circles over my shoulder with his thumb.
“Okay would be a terribly inaccurate word to describe what you felt like to me. Good and even great would also be inferior. Otherworldly, perhaps? Earth-shattering? Fucking mind-altering? Those would be fitting descriptions for the experience of being inside your body.” Weston’s brows knit.
“I want to understand where these insecurities stem from, Willow, because I want to know how to reassure you the right way.”
I muffle a smile against his skin, and he grips my chin to reveal it.
I bite my lip, dropping my gaze as I run a finger down the center of his chest. “When Parker assaulted me . . .” I sigh.
“It started consensual, but he removed the condom without asking me. I didn’t realize until after he’d finished.
” I swallow hard, that familiar yet suppressed bite of shame resurfacing.
“I battled with whether I could call it that at first, honestly. Whether I could say he assaulted me, because I know so many women experience much worse.”
“It doesn’t lessen the reality of what happened to you. You have the right to call it what it is,” he says softly.
“I know.” I nod. “When I confronted him about it, asked why he did it and explained that it made me uncomfortable . . .” Emotion pricks behind my eyes.
“He told me that he didn’t even enjoy sex with me.
That he couldn’t feel anything when he used a condom.
That I was too . . .” I shake my head, hiding my face as white-hot shame rushes over me. “Loose.”
Weston’s body tenses beside me. He rears back, creating distance between us—recoiling. Like he’s been slapped.
I’m terrified to look at him.
“Willow,” he breathes, sighing deeply, as if gathering his composure. Weston adds, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry he put you through that. I’m sorry that—Can you look at me?”
I shake my head, burying my face in his side. “Not yet,” I murmur. “That was the most humiliating thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’ve never spoken those words aloud. Not to anyone. Not even Allie. I’m too afraid they’re true. I’m afraid of anyone else knowing something like that about me.”
“I understand.” His chest moves as he nods.
“I need you to know it’s not true, though.
Farthest thing from it.” He plants his lips in my hair, running his arm down the bare skin of my back.
“I know I’m not an expert, but even with high school level biology and basic sex education, I know that’s not how the female body works.
And . . .” He huffs a laugh. “I can now speak from experience that sex with a condom can absolutely feel good. Perhaps Parker was overcompensating for his own issues.” He shrugs.
“Regardless, those things he said were a poor attempt at deflecting from what he did to you because he’d been caught.
They were an abhorrent effort to justify his actions. That does not make them true.”
“He was so quick to say them. Like he didn’t even need to think about it. The words naturally fell from his mouth.”
“Honestly, Willow. He probably considered the chance you’d realize what he’d done—first hoping that you would choose not to address it, and second, having a perfect excuse on hand in case you did.
The kind of reasoning that would create the very insecurities you’re struggling with now, so that he could continue assaulting you that way and even coerce you further without your consent.
Ensuring you were too humiliated to confront him. Too insecure to leave.”
I finally lift my head, emotion pooling behind my eyes when I look at him.
Weston’s face is twisted in devastation, but he cups my cheeks with both hands, tipping my chin upward. “You’re so strong, though. My brave, resilient girl. You broke free, and soon, you’ll heal too.”
“I don’t want to let it define me anymore,” I murmur, tilting my head and kissing his palm as one tear spills over.
“We won’t let it.” Weston catches my tear with a thumb and swipes it away, taking my shame with it. “I want to erase your pain too,” he whispers, echoing my words from last night.
“When you touch me, it kind of feels like that.” I smile softly, mimicking his.
Weston guides my mouth to him, kissing me languidly.
Like he’s got his entire life to do it. Those long, slow kisses morph into fervent exploration of each other’s body.
My tongue tasting his jaw, his teeth nipping my neck.
My hands on his chest and tangled in the strands of his hair.
His sliding over my breasts, grazing my nipples and teasing my skin.
Weston ends up hovering over me, nestled between my legs. His blazing eyes study me like I’m his next meal, gaze sparking heat in my veins. His hard cock throbs against my lower belly, lighting a fire in my core.
“You heard the medic,” I say on a breath. “No rigorous activity. Plus, I only had one condom.”
He laughs, dipping his head to kiss me tenderly. “I just wanted a taste of what it’ll be like.”
“What?” I ask.
“The next time we fuck,” he says roughly, the words filtering from his lips and into mine.
“I want it just like this. I want to see you writhe beneath me while I cage you in. Watch your pretty tits bounce with every thrust inside your perfect fucking body. I’m going to revel in the way I make those big blue eyes roll back as you claw at my shoulders.
That’s how I’m going to take you, Willow. ”
Heat rushes over me like a fucking tidal wave, breath hitching with a splintered gasp. “I think I’d like that.”
“Oh, love. I’ll guarantee it,” he rasps, kissing me again.