27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Willow
Phoenix crawls up my body with my taste still on his mouth. He has that heat in his eyes that makes every sensible thing inside me back away slowly.
His mouth finds mine and I taste myself on his tongue. The kiss is hot and filthy. His hand fists in my hair, angling my head back like he owns it. Like he has decided how this goes and is letting me know it.
His body settles heavy between my thighs, his cock hard and obvious against me, close enough that my pussy clenches around nothing and I hate myself a little for how badly I want it.
I moan into his mouth.
Phoenix sits back on his knees and looks at me like he has all the time in the world and every intention of using it. His tongue slides out and wets his bottom lip. His eyes move over my tits, down my stomach, settling between my thighs where my pussy is wet, swollen, and on full display.
He looks at all of it like a man taking inventory of something he plans to ruin thoroughly.
“Fuck,” he says, voice low. “Fucking look at you. Spread out and soaking wet and all fucking mine. You have no idea what I want to do to you right now.”
His hand slides down my side, over my hip, then between my thighs.
“Still so fucking wet,” he murmurs, eyes locked on my pussy, thumb moving in a slow motion that makes my hips chase him before I can stop them. “I could keep you here all night, Wills. Keep my mouth on this pussy until you forget every reason you were supposed to hate me.”
My breath breaks apart. “Phoenix.”
His thumb moves over my clit and I experience every single second of it.
“My name sounds better when you’re like this, Wills.”
I grip his wrist, not to stop him. I don’t know if I am capable of stopping him right now.
He stills under my hand and his eyes meet mine.
“I want you inside me,” I whisper.
He goes completely still. Those five words affect him.
“Say it again,” he says.
“You heard me.” My pulse stumbles.
His hand closes around my thigh, lifting it higher against his hip. Hard enough to make me gasp.
“I said say it again, Wills.”
I stare straight at him. “I want your fucking hard cock inside me. Is that clear enough?”
He pushes himself up off the bed. Shoves his sweats down his hips and his cock springs free.
My mouth goes dry.
He is beautiful. Infuriatingly, unfairly beautiful.
All lean muscle and golden skin, tattoos running up his ribs and across his hip.
His cock is thick and hard, leaking at the tip, big enough that my thighs instinctively clench, remembering the sensation and anticipating what it will feel like again.
He wraps one hand around his cock and strokes. His eyes never leave mine. There is no shame in the way he lets me look. Phoenix has never had a modest day in his life and he is not about to start now. His ego probably has its own dressing room, its own rider, and a dedicated parking space.
His mouth curls into that filthy smirk.
“Go ahead and stare, baby.” He strokes himself again, more slowly this time, his thumb dragging over the head. “Paid for the ticket, you might as well enjoy the show.”
“You’re unbelievable,” I breathe.
“Yeah.” His eyes drag down my body. “And you're lying there with your pussy wet for my cock so let’s not throw stones.”
He looks down at himself, then back up at me, that smirk still on his mouth.
“Fuck. Hang on.” He glances around. “Please tell me you have a condom somewhere in this apartment, because I swear to God I will lose my mind if I have to stop right now.”
“Drawer,” I say, pointing at the nightstand.
He crosses the room, pulls it open, and finds one. He tears the packet with his teeth and comes back to the end of the bed and rolls it on with one hand. His cock is hard and thick in his grip, making absolutely sure I’m watching every second of it.
“You know,” he says, not caring that he's making my entire nervous system malfunction, “most people would consider it rude to stare.”
“Most people are not putting on a performance.”
His smile turns wicked. “Can’t help it, Wills.” He strokes himself once more through the condom. “I’m just naturally gifted.”
“Your ego is genuinely a medical condition.”
“Lucky for you,” he says, dropping one knee onto the bed, “every other part of me is in perfect working order.”
He climbs over me, one hand braced beside my shoulder, the other gripping his cock as he settles between my thighs. The head of him slides through me, dragging against my clit, and my whole body jerks hard.
“Shit,” I gasp.
Phoenix lowers his mouth to my throat. “Still sensitive?”
I nod.
“Good.” His teeth scrape lightly across my skin. “I want you to feel every fucking second this time.”
The storage room flashes behind my eyelids. His hands, rough and urgent, on my skin. My body opening for him as if it had been waiting. My heart, stupid enough to believe that the way he touched me meant something he was ready to keep. And then the cold after.
I go still beneath him.
Phoenix senses it right away. He lifts his head. His eyes meet mine and I watch him understand exactly where I just went and why.
For a second, neither of us moves.
His forehead drops to mine. His weight shifts and his hand now cups the side of my face.
When he speaks, his voice is nothing like the man who performs everything.
“You have me now.” His thumb moves gently against my cheek.
“Not that fucked-up version of me. Or the fucking coward who walked out because he didn’t know what to do with something that actually mattered.
” His jaw clenches, as if he is pissed at himself.
“That was the worst thing I have ever done and believe me I know it.”
My eyes burn. “Phoenix.”
“I know.” He leans down and kisses me, his mouth gentle in a way that costs him something. “I know what I did to you. I know what it cost you. And I’m done being that shit version of myself who let that happen.”
“Relax,” he says, as his thumb runs along my cheekbone. “Let me show you it’s different this time. I fucking promise you, Wills.”
He kisses me before I can answer, then pushes inside me. Slow. Inch by inch.
My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. He stretches me, his body held above mine, every muscle locked and shaking with the effort to hold back. His hand grips the sheet beside my head, the only thing showing me that he is losing every scrap of control he is barely holding on to.
“Fuck,” he says against my neck. “You feel so much better than I remember.”
The words drag out of him, too honest to be one of his usual shitty lines.
He stops when he is buried all the way inside me. His breathing is ragged against my throat.
His body shakes.
Mine does too.
“You okay?” His eyes lift to meet mine.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I’m okay.”
“Good.” His hips pull back just an inch, then push forward, and we both suck in a breath at the same time. “Because I am hanging on by a fucking thread here.”
His mouth drops to my ear. “And your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock is not making that easy. Fuck, Wills. You were made for me. Like this pussy was always supposed to be mine.”
The next sequence of thrusts are still slow, dragging through me with a pressure that makes my eyes flutter shut and my whole body arch up into him.
I experience every inch of him, the thick stretch of his cock sliding inside me.
His hips roll into mine, hitting that spot that makes my vision blur and my mouth fall open on a sound I have no control over.
My fingers slide into his hair and pull hard.
The sound tearing out of his throat is raw.
“Yeah, that’s fucking it,” he says, his voice dropping to something low. “Hold on to me.”
I tighten my grip on his hair. My legs wrap around him, pulling him deeper because I cannot get close enough or remember a single reason that this was ever supposed to be a bad idea.
His rhythm builds. Each thrust is deep enough to send my body higher and higher.
I open my eyes to watch him fuck me and see his eyes are already on me. Watching my face every time he slides into me. His gaze drops to my mouth, then drags back up to my eyes, over and over, as if he cannot decide which part of me he needs to look at most and refuses to choose.
“I have thought about this,” he says, his hips rolling into mine on the words, “since the first time I fucked you.” Another thrust, deeper, and we both exhale hard. “Thought about what it would be like to take my time with you. To have you in a bed instead of a fucking storage room.”
His mouth finds my jaw, my throat. “You have no idea how many times I have thought about fucking you properly, Wills.”
He pulls back and looks at me, eyes dark and completely serious. “And let me tell you, you do not disappoint.”
I stare at him.
Something is different in the way he looks at me, in the way his hands touch me. He has not once made this about himself. It sits in my chest like something I don’t yet have a word for.
His hand slides under my ass and grips hard, lifting my hips off the mattress. The new angle drives him deeper, and a broken sound spills out of me before I can catch it.
“There,” he says, his voice thick with pride. “That’s the spot, isn’t it?”
I glare at him even though my entire body is shaking. “Don’t sound so pleased with yourself.”
He drives into me again, and a moan escapes.
His mouth curves. “Hard not to be pleased when your pussy keeps giving you away.”
"Phoenix,” I breathe.
His control slips. His hand comes up to the front of my throat, not tight, just possessive. His palm is warm against my pulse.
“Say my name again,” he says.
“Phoenix,” I say.
His hips snap harder as he closes his eyes for a moment.
When he opens them again, his grip on my throat tightens just slightly, and his other hand pins my hip down so I take every thrust exactly the way he wants to give it.
The combination of his cock driving into me, his hand at my throat, and his eyes watching my face dismantles every last wall I had left.