Chapter 30 #2
I’m hoping that behind the racks of clothes in the farthest back corner of the surf shop, the rumbling behind this door will go unnoticed by shopping patrons and—God forbid—one of the owners if they were to walk in.
I told Willow to meet me here for lunch today, and since I’m working with Zander, it was easy to convince him to turn a blind eye when I grabbed her as she slipped through the front door earlier.
I’d only planned on kissing her outside the range of her dad’s cameras for a few dark, perfect moments before taking her down the pier to eat, but when Willow’s fingers brushed my cock as I pinned her against the door, we both lost all composure.
It’s been two weeks since our first time, and I can’t get enough.
Every second I’m not surfing or sleeping, I’m diving between Willow’s legs, greedily and eagerly owning every piece of herself she offers.
It’s more than the sex, though. It’s sleeping together and waking up together too. It’s every deep conversation and sated smile we share when tangled together in those breathless moments after finishing. It’s the way she lets me into her soul by the touch she allows me to place on her skin.
She’s engrained in me now, and I feel a little less complete when I’m not with her.
I feel more than hear my name cascading from her lips as she keeps them locked in the crease of my neck. She’s shaking wildly, body wound tight before going taut, a climax ripping through her. She writhes against me, and I hold her through it as she rides it out.
The flood of her release over my cock, the tight hold she has on my hair, and the sharp sting of her teeth sinking into my skin has me chasing her orgasm with my own, the heat coiled in my spine exploding into a burst of all-consuming ecstasy.
“So good, love. So fucking good,” I rasp, lips tangled in her sex-mused hair as I coax her down from her release.
Her forehead rests on my shoulder, parted lips panting heavily against my arm. Once her breathing evens out, I slowly lower her legs, holding her steady as she regains the strength to stand on her own. I slide my hand out from under her dress, bending to help her smooth it down.
When I stand, I do the same to her hair, running the long strands through my fingers before adjusting the straps on her dress.
Willow looks up at me from beneath her lashes, the sated heat in her gaze enough to make my cock stir again.
Her tanned skin glistens under the low light, cheeks flushed the prettiest shade of rosy pink, pillow-soft lips swollen from my kiss.
“That was unexpected,” she says in a breath as I make quick work of pulling up my jeans and disposing of the condom.
“I don’t know.” I shrug, a slow grin spreading over my face. “I guess you were just desperate to have your way with me, Willow.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” She rolls her eyes, smoothing down her hair one final time before throwing open the stockroom door. “Now I’m hungry.” Throwing her arm behind her, reaching for my hand, she adds, “Buy me a burger.”
“Whatever you want, love.” I grin, weaving my fingers through hers.
“Willow, baby, I don’t think this is going to work.”
“Engage your core, Weston.” She flips her hair over her shoulder, peeking back at me. “Brace your weight on your arms, spread your legs, and don’t lose your balance.”
The sun crests over the mountains to the east, the water in the deep corner of the cove like glass on this quiet Sunday morning.
The sky explodes in pastels, thick clouds like puffs of floating cotton candy, but it’s the sight of Willow rising on her knees as she pulls the bottoms of her bathing suit aside, revealing the slightest glimpse of her plump, pink pussy that takes my breath away.
She insisted we share a paddleboard this morning, and I was a little taken aback when we reached beyond the break of the low-tide waves and Willow demanded I take my cock out.
She tugged my shorts down just enough for it to spring free, pulled a condom out from the waistband of her bathing suit bottoms, and then demanded I put it on as she turned around, balancing herself on all fours.
Her eyes shimmer mischievously in the morning light as she grins at me, bracing her weight on her knees and slipping her ankles beneath my thighs. The board sways as she settles between my legs, her plush and perfect fucking ass nestling itself right up against my aching cock.
A tortured groan leaves my throat as she balances on one arm—like she’s doing fucking yoga or something, the incredible goddamn woman—and reaches back with her free hand, grasping my length.
She pumps me twice, sending a rush of sparks through my veins.
Swiping the moisture gathered at my tip, she coats my base before lifting her hips and swiping my cock through her slit, then notching me at her entrance.
“God-fucking-dammit, Willow,” I growl through gritted teeth as she sinks down on me, her ass flushing with my hips, flesh bouncing with the movement of the board beneath us. “You’re killing me, baby.”
“No,” she rasps, flashing me her dimples. “I’m bringing your fantasies to life.”
She lifts before dropping back down at a rhythm slow enough that it doesn’t send us tumbling into the ocean, but with enough force that I feel every flawless flutter of her perfect pussy when she throws herself back on me. I grip her ass, spreading wide as I rock her faster.
The view is fucking unreal. Willow’s hair sways down her back, skin rippling with every bounce of her hips, the slap of our skin echoing over the waves that lap against the board.
The Pacific stretches forever in front of me, sky streaked with shades of fuchsia and periwinkle as her beautiful moan cuts through the salt air.
“You are every fantasy, love.”
“Wes . . .” Her breath hitches. “You’re going to be late.”
“Wills, I gotta eat it before I go surfing. You know that, baby.” I lift my chin, smiling at her through the sheets of water that blur my vision.
Even beneath the stream, I can see just how pretty and flushed her skin is, the way her breasts bounce with each heave of her chest. “It’s part of my routine now.
I perform better when I can taste your pussy on my lips. ”
“Fuck,” she mutters, slamming her head back against the wall of the outdoor shower.
It’s been a month-long addiction to Willow Graham, and I’ve come to realize that my days are undoubtedly better when they’ve started with her coming on my face.
Leo’s offering a youth camp this week, which means I get a break from the level of training I’m used to.
My responsibility is to assist with the kids instead.
The first session starts late enough that I had time to paddle with Willow in the harbor.
She wanted to wash the saltwater off before she went home to prepare for her shift at Honeysuckle, and while I had no need to do the same, considering I’ll be spending all day on the beach, I wasn’t going to say no when she invited me in with her.
I dive back between Willow’s thighs, running my tongue along her slit and spreading her open, coating myself in the sweet taste of her arousal before settling over her clit. My fingers dance along her thighs, teasing the sensitive skin and putting her on edge.
I kneel before her—worshipping at her altar. Leg draped over my shoulder, hands twisted in my hair, she rocks herself against my face. Sweet, soft whimpers float from her mouth, muffled beneath the water that pounds against the concrete floor.
“Wes,” she moans, voice rising above the veil of noise, my name a jumbled, nearly unintelligible mess of impassioned breath.
“Willow?” someone calls from beyond the walls.
I freeze, mouth still buried in her pussy.
She tenses, breath hitching in shock. “Umm . . . yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
Recognition flashes across her eyes as an irritated grumble of, “He must be helping out with the camp,” leaves her mouth. “Yeah, Camden.” There’s a bite in her raised tone. “I’m fine.”
“Absolutely fucking not,” I rasp, slipping my finger inside her, causing a gasp to spring from her lips. “You don’t say anyone else’s name when I’m between these thighs.”
“Wes,” she hisses. “God.”
“Yeah, baby. More like that.”
I crook my finger, pumping once before adding a second and flicking my tongue over her clit. She hums, rolling her pussy over my mouth, setting the pace she needs.
“What’d you say?” Camden calls again.
Before Willow can speak, I pull back and snap, “She’s busy and uninterested.”
“Excuse—”
“You’ve been dismissed,” I bark, glancing up at Willow.
Eyes wide, brows raised, and jaw dropped, she’s stunned silent. An amused smirk plays at the corner of her mouth, and I don’t wait for him to respond as I return to devouring her pussy, reveling in the hard crunch of gravel beneath her ex’s retreating footsteps.
Flattening my tongue, I wrap my lips around her clit, lapping at her relentlessly while matching the tempo of my fingers inside her. Applying pressure to her favorite place, sucking on her bud, I consume her entirely—until she’s shattering all around me.
Her release soaks my face, cascading down my chin along with the shower stream. Willow’s boneless, body slumping as I slowly pull my fingers from her, ensuring her gaze locks on mine as I lick her taste from my skin.
She snatches my wrist, raising my hand to her own mouth. I drown in the multitudes of her eyes, swallowed entirely by her lust-laced irises as she slips my two fingers into her mouth, sucking herself away.
“Fuck, Willow,” I mutter, adjusting myself when I stand, attempting to relieve any ounce of the pressure in my raging cock. “I’m going to be thinking about this all day. You have any fucking clue what you do to me, Trouble?”
“Fantasize about me,” she murmurs, rising on her toes to brush her lips over mine. “Then come home tonight and show me what it is I do to you.”
She kisses me once, tongue darting out to taste her essence on my lips before she spins, taunting her flawless ass as she leaves me in the shower—hard and aching.
Thankfully, I’m not late to camp, even if I didn’t beat her prick of an ex down here. He glares at me when I step onto the sand. I grin because we both know I’m the one with the taste of her inside my mouth.
I run my tongue over my top lip, the gesture clear as the blue sky above us: mine.
Later that night, after I’ve shown her exactly how she makes me feel, we lie tangled in my bed. She’s on her side, flush against my chest as I pepper strategic kisses over her spine.
“What are you doing?” she asks sleepily—contented. My chest expands at the sound.
“Counting your freckles,” I whisper, dragging my lips along her back.
She hums, laughing softly. “I read once that the placement of your freckles are all the spots your soulmate kissed you in a past life.”
“Hmm.” I muse, gliding my mouth over her soft, smooth skin. “I must’ve been hungry back then.”
“Weston.” Willow’s breath hitches, lips parting as I gently roll atop her. Her heart pounds erratically against my chest, matching the beat of my own. She’s the picture of pristine beauty, utter perfection—golden hair a halo around her glowing face, crystalline eyes bursting with awe.
I dip my head, murmuring against her lips, “But love, in this lifetime, I’m starving.”