Chapter 40 Willow
WILLOW
I stare up at Malice, shocked and turned on.
He looks down at me with that harsh, dominant look on his face that I’m becoming accustomed to. One eyebrow lifts slightly, like he’s challenging me to back out now. To say no.
I swallow hard again, my head spinning. The old Willow would say no.
She would shake her head and run from the room.
But then again, the old Willow wouldn’t be in this position in the first place.
She wouldn’t have crawled to him, and she definitely wouldn’t be so wet it’s starting to soak through her panties.
It’s safe to say the old Willow has no place here at all.
So I don’t say no. I don’t back down.
Kneeling on the floor in front of Malice, I fumble with the opening of his pants, tugging it open even wider and pushing his boxers down as I take his dick out.
Oh. Oh my god.
I got a glimpse of it before, when he was fucking that woman, but that was nothing like having it in my hand. I can barely get all my fingers around it, and it’s hard and thick, pulsing against my palm.
My stomach flutters at the way that feels and looks, and I can’t stop staring at it.
It’s flushed a darker color than the rest of his skin, and the dark ink of his tattoos work their way around his shaft.
My eyes widen slightly as I get a good look at them for the first time and realize I was right about what I thought I saw the night I walked in on him.
I almost thought I must have imagined it.
I glance up at Malice, who hasn’t stopped watching me this entire time.
His face is all harsh angles, his eyes burning with an intense heat.
The usual dark gray color of them has turned almost black, and I swallow before opening my mouth and easing it over the head of his cock.
The taste of his skin hits my tongue, clean and warm.
It fills my mouth, settling on my taste buds, and I lick the underside of his shaft experimentally.
I can feel Malice shiver, and the muscles of his thighs tense up.
“Have you ever done this before?” he murmurs gruffly.
Yes, but never willingly.
That seems like too much to go into right now, and besides, I can’t even speak around the mouthful of his dick, so I just shake my head.
I haven’t. Not in any way that counts. Aside from that awful experience with Nikolai, I’ve only done this once before, with a john of my mom’s.
That memory isn’t a good one, so I push back the thoughts of how he tried to assault me before he got turned off by the sight of my scars.
I want this moment to supersede those memories. I want it to be the one that I’ll remember.
Because I chose this. I asked for this.
I crawled on my hands and knees for this.
And I want to make it good, even though I don’t exactly know what I’m doing.
Paying close attention to Malice’s reactions, I bob my head up and down slowly, sliding my lips over the first few inches of his thick shaft.
There’s no way I’m going to be able to fit the whole thing in my mouth, so I take my time, paying attention to the head first, my hand still wrapped around the base.
The salty leak of his precum changes the taste of him, and it makes me remember something I heard one of the dancers talking about at Sapphire once.
As saliva begins to slide down his cock, I swirl my tongue around the smooth head, dipping the tip of my tongue into the little slit at the top where the beads of precum gather.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
The quiet, strained sound goes straight to my head, inspiring me to work harder.
I try to take more of him, sliding my lips down his shaft, letting drool spill from my mouth a bit to slick the way enough that it won’t be uncomfortable.
The parts I can’t reach with my mouth, I tease with my hand, gliding it up and down slowly.
It feels a little awkward trying to get the right rhythm between my mouth and my hand, but I keep working at it, and surprisingly, it turns me on as well.
I never thought I’d enjoy something like this—being on my knees with a man’s cock in my mouth—but there’s something about it that makes my breasts ache and my clit throb.
“Use your tongue more,” Malice instructs after a moment.
My eyes dart up to look at his face. His brows are drawn tight, and his irises are a little hazy from pleasure, which makes pride flare in my chest. At least I’m doing something right.
I pull back enough that I can start licking the underside of his cock more, following the line of a heavy vein that cuts along his thick shaft.
Malice nods, his hips bucking up toward my face as his hands curl into fists on the armrests.
“Good,” he praises. “Just like that. You’re doing so fucking good.”
Every word that spills from his lips goes to my head, making me throw myself into it even more. I take him deeper until the head of his cock hits the back of my throat, making me choke a little.
I splutter around his dick but don’t pull off, breathing through it until I can get back to work, bobbing my head, careful of my teeth.
“Fuck,” Malice curses again. “I should’ve known you’d have a good mouth on you. And you learn quick. Take me deeper. Fit as much in as you can.”
It’s a daunting task with how big he is, and I’m worried about gagging again, but I do as he says.
I start slow, pulling back until just the head of him is still between my lips. Then I work my way down, letting more and more of that hard thickness fill my mouth and slide against my tongue.
I remember what he said about using my tongue more, so I do that, rubbing it along the pulsing vein, lapping at him while I take him as deep as I can.
My body heaves a bit when he hits the back of my throat, but I don’t choke this time. My nostrils flare with the urge to breathe, but I fight through it, holding Malice there as deep as I can before I slowly start to pull back up.
“Jesus, she’s a fucking natural.” Ransom’s voice floats up from behind me. “You’re driving him crazy, angel. Hell, you’re driving me crazy.”
My eyelids droop, my jaw starting to ache as I work my way up and down Malice’s cock, challenging myself to go deeper every time. Every time I slide up to the very tip of Malice’s length, I hear a quiet chorus of noises from the men, deep grunts and muffled sounds of approval.
Malice lets me follow my own impulses for a while, allowing me to experiment with the rhythm and tempo. When he speaks again, his voice is rough and strained.
“Take your pants off,” he growls out. “Let Ransom and Vic see your pretty pink pussy. Let them see how fucking wet you are.”
I whimper around his cock, and judging from the hiss he gives in response, he likes the way the vibrations of the sound feel.
“Go on,” he grunts. “Let them see what a fucking slut you are, and how much this turns you on.”
My core clenches in response, my clit pulsing so hard it makes me shiver. My nipples go rock hard as his filthy words wrap around me, dragging me into a sea of arousal.
For a second, it’s hard to remember there are other parts of my body besides my mouth and the hand that’s wrapped around Malice’s dick.
I’ve been so focused on this task that adding anything else to the mix seems like a tall order.
But I manage to get my brain to kick into gear, and I work my pants and underwear down, kicking them off and away along with my shoes.
All it takes is the feeling of air on my most intimate flesh for me to know that Malice is right. I truly am soaked from all of this. I can feel wetness seeping from me, trailing down my inner thighs, and judging by the groan Ransom gives from behind me, he and Victor can see it.
“Touch yourself,” Malice commands, staring down at me with hooded eyes. “I want to see you get yourself off like this.”
When I don’t immediately move to follow that order, his hand shoots out, tangling in my hair again. He pulls me off of his cock, and there’s a wet pop as my lips leave his shaft.
I gasp at the sting of pain and the sudden burst of oxygen in my lungs, meeting his eyes as he leans down toward me a little.
“I said, touch yourself,” he rumbles. “Make yourself come while your mouth is wrapped around my dick. While my brothers watch. While you’re on your fucking knees for me, sucking on my cock like it’s the best fucking thing you’ve ever tasted.”
My whole body feels like it’s on fire. Just like in the dream I had about the brothers, this feels wrong but so fucking good. The touch of shame and embarrassment that burn through me when he talks to me that way only serve to heighten the arousal I’m feeling, making my head spin.
My chest heaves as I draw in a lungful of air and then slide a hand between my legs, slipping my fingers against the soaking wet folds of my pussy. I find my clit, giving in to the desire for friction there, and I moan out loud from how good it feels.
Malice watches me for a second then nods, satisfied. “That’s good. Keep it up,” he says. “Now go back to making your mouth useful.”
He releases his grip on my hair, and I don’t even need the command.
As soon as I can move freely again, I lunge for his dick again, getting my mouth around it once more.
The fresh pleasure coursing through me goes right to my head, and I start sucking his cock in earnest. One hand is buried between my legs, stroking my clit in fast, tight circles, and the other wraps around Malice’s cock again, holding it steady while I lick and suck at it.
It’s harder to keep my balance with only my knees on the floor, both of my hands occupied with other tasks, but I manage.
I drag my tongue up the whole length of him, leaving a trail of my own spit behind. That makes it slick when I start pumping him with my hand, my mouth laving and sucking at the head and the few inches beyond it that I can take comfortably.
It starts to get messier, wetness dripping down his cock and coating my hand as I bob my head faster, working myself in time with how I’m sucking Malice off.