10. Chapter Ten #2
For half a second, there is only the muffled thud of music through the wall and the sound of our breathing.
I kiss her before either of us gets stupid enough to talk. Because talking has ruined nights like this before.
All I want right now is to fuck.
I take her mouth hard and walk her backward through the cramped little room, bumping into a stack of boxes.
Willow makes a sharp little sound against my lips.
I keep my mouth on hers, catch her hips, and lift her onto the narrow counter. I shove myself between her thighs as if I have been starving for that space.
Her dress rides up and my hand follows. Up the inside of her thighs, slow enough to make her breath catch.
My fingers glide higher over warm skin until I reach the edge of her panties and feel the damp heat waiting there.
Fuck.
I drag my mouth from hers to gaze at her because I need to see it on her face. Need to know I’m not the only one losing my fucking mind in this room.
I hook my fingers around the edge of her panties and pull them aside. And there it is.
Bare, wet, and glistening. And for me to fucking take.
Willow lets out a broken little sound when I slide two fingers through her wetness and the groan that rips out of me is worse. It’s rough. Filthy. Not even close to controlled.
“Fuck.”
I glance down at my hand between her thighs, then back at her face.
“Jesus, Wills,” I say, my voice low and shot to hell. “All this for me?”
I rip her lace panties off and toss them to the floor because patience is for better men and softer cocks.
Willow’s breath catches.
I push her back on the counter and drag her hips to the edge, spreading her open until her pussy is right there in front of me, wet and waiting.
“Fuck,” I say, because apparently that is the full extent of my vocabulary now.
I stare at her, greedy and shameless, as my hands lock on her thighs.
My cock throbs so hard it’s practically yelling at me to stop fucking around and get inside her
“Look at you,” I say, voice rough as hell. “All wet and spread out for me. Do you have any fucking idea how long I’ve wanted you like this?”
I unbutton my jeans with hands that shake just enough to piss me off. My cock springs free, hard and leaking, because apparently all the years I spent not touching Willow has decided to show up all at once and make a fucking scene.
Her eyes drop to my cock.
Good. Let her look. This part I know. This part I’m good at.
The want, heat, hands, mouths, a condom torn open with my teeth and a woman looking at me as if I am about to ruin her in the best possible way. That is familiar territory. Clean, in its own filthy little way. No feelings.
Just lust. Just a fuck.
I catch her staring at my cock and smirk, because arrogance is easier than whatever the hell is trying to crawl up my throat.
“Careful, Wills,” I say, rolling on the condom. “You look at it like that and it’ll start thinking you’re impressed.”
There it is. Easy. Cocky. A line I use for the pretty girls backstage and for the ones in hotel rooms who laugh because they want to believe I am charming rather than empty.
I can do this. I can make it dirty and simple. I can fuck Willow and pretend it doesn’t mean a damn thing.
I step back between her thighs, grip my cock, and drag the tip through her wetness.
“Spread your fucking legs for me.”
I line my cock up and push in slowly, watching her face change as I do.
The first tight, wet grip of her cunt around my cock nearly takes the arrogance right out of my mouth.
“Fuck, Wills,” I breathe, my hands locking on her thighs as my eyes shut for half a second.
Bad idea. It makes it worse, because the sensation of her pussy taking me after years of wondering is a special kind of punishment.
She is hotter than every filthy thought I have ever had about her.
Tighter than anything my imagination had the decency to prepare me for and so much better than the version I built in my head that my cock should probably send a thank-you card and an apology.
I have had practice. A lot of fucking practice.
Anything with a pretty mouth, loose morals, and the terrible judgment to say yes to me.
Enough that my cock should be a seasoned professional by now.
Then I slide my cock into Willow Hart and she somehow makes every other woman in my memory seem inadequate.
I move slow enough to pretend I have a choice.
That lie lasts for about half a second. Willow makes a sound, digs her nails into my shoulders, and whatever control I thought I had snaps clean in half.
I fuck her hard. Hard enough that the counter knocks against the wall and a stack of bar towels slides off the shelf beside us.
“Fuck, Wills,” I groan, gripping her hips tighter. “Your pussy feels so fucking good.”
My hips move before my brain can issue any useful instructions, rolling into her like my cock has taken over the whole operation and let me along for the ride.
She moans and the sound hits me straight in the chest.
Being inside her is obscene. Tight, wet, hot enough to make my thoughts start chewing through their own leash. Every thrust drags another sound out of her and I get greedy for it fast.
I slide one hand between us and find her clit with my thumb. Her whole body jerks.
“Yeah?” I breathe, watching her face. “That’s it, baby. I knew you’d fucking like me touching you there.”
I rub her there, soft and slow at first, then harder when her moan turns sharp.
I fuck her like a madman, as if control is something that happened to other people with better childhoods and softer drugs. Every thrust is filthy around my cock. It's tight, wet and so fucking unforgettable that I already hate her a little for it.
Because this is going to stick. I know it before I can talk myself out of it. The sensation of her. The sound of her. The way her body grips me as if it has been waiting for this too.
I drive into her harder as my thumb still works her clit and her moan tears out of her—raw and loud enough to make my teeth clench.
Her moan breaks wide open and the sound nearly makes me lose my mind.
Willow is loud. Not fake loud. Not backstage-girl performance and pretty little lies for the story later. Real loud. The kind of loud that makes my cock think it deserves a round of applause.
I have wondered about whether she was loud too many fucking times.
Turns out, yes. A very fucking big yes. And apparently I am no better, because the groan that tears out of me is louder than anything I have ever given another woman.
“Yeah,” I groan, my hips snapping into her hard enough to make the counter hit the wall. “That’s it, Wills. Bet this is the best fuck you’ve ever had.”
She moans again and fuck me. I want to save the sound as my ringtone. I want it on repeat. Stored somewhere filthy for later, when I’m alone with my hand around my cock and jerk off thinking about this.