Chapter 16
sixteen
My mind is racing, everything I’ve wished for and wanted since the first time I saw Beckett playing in slow motion.
I want him, I have absolutely no doubt of that.
And I know I’m ready for that. But I haven’t had sex with a man in nearly five years.
On top of the physical consequences of going through with this, am I truly ready for what this will do to my heart?
Beck is already buried so deep in my bones I don’t think I could ever remove him.
He loves me. Maybe more than any man has ever loved me in this life.
But do I love him the way I should if I’m going to give him this part of me?
This hope of a future that never ends for us?
Yes. I do.
Even though every muscle and fiber in my being tells me I can’t trust a man with my heart or my body, I know that isn’t true.
Beckett’s hands curl gently around the jagged shards of what’s left of my heart, each movement risking a deeper cut.
But there’s so much tenderness in the gesture, as if my broken pieces still hold meaning or beauty worthy of the pain they could cause.
When he looks at me, I do feel worthy for the first time in my life.
His warm hand wraps around my thigh as we pull into the long driveway leading to his front door.
When he squeezes slightly, a shiver runs through my entire body.
Adrenaline courses through my veins, my core clenching with just one touch.
A soft moan escapes my lips involuntarily, the heat from his skin too much to contain.
I need to feel his hands everywhere else, anywhere else. I just need him.
The way his forearm flexes as he steers this gorgeous fucking car up the driveway, one hand gripping my thigh and one gripping the wheel, is too much.
My heart races, my breath coming in shallow pants.
He shifts the car into park, staring straight ahead like he’s working through something mentally.
Both hands grip the steering wheel tightly, and he takes a deep, calming breath.
“I’m wrong for you, Willow. Everything about me is the complete opposite of what you should have in this life.
You deserve a man who is pure, someone who is considered a good person in all aspects of their life.
I am not that man. But I will never put anything in this life above you.
I’d burn every bridge, betray every soul.
I’d destroy every good thing left in me just to hear you say my name the way you do when you forget how much you shouldn’t want this.
I am not good. I don’t think I ever really have been.
I think I’ve always seen the world in shades of grey, and I’m comfortable with that.
But I can promise you this, Will. I will love you harder than anyone ever could.
” He reaches for my hand gently, almost reverently.
As if I’m the last sacred thing he has in this world.
“Just say the word and I’ll ruin myself for you. Over and over again. Forever.”
“I’ve spent years wondering if I can really trust my judgement.
I got it so wrong with Cooper, so much so that I wondered if I could ever trust my heart or my head again.
But you make it effortless. I feel a sense of peace that I’ve never known before I met you.
And I don’t ever want to know what it feels like to be without you again.
I’m yours, Beck. Every single part of me.
” My eyes burn into his, our confessions and truths hanging in the air surrounding us.
“I want to be gentle with your heart, Will. With your soul. I would rather die than hurt you the way you’ve been hurt in the past. But god help me, I don’t want to be gentle with your perfect fucking body.” His gaze is raw power, untamed fire. And I want to possess every ounce of it.
“I’m yours. Completely.” I repeat, placing my hand on top of his on the seat between us. He looks down, smirking slightly before training his gaze back on mine.
His fingertips graze my cheek before his hand glides lower, rough knuckles grazing the curve of my throat.
My chin tilts up, giving him silent permission.
His palm presses against the base of my neck, fingers splaying wide, wrapping around my throat like a command.
There’s no pressure, just his presence. Just control offered, but not taken.
Not stolen from me like it had been so many times before.
His thumb strokes just below my jawline, the pad of it brushing over my pulse.
My heart beats frantically in my chest, and I know he feels what he does to me.
“This,” he whispers, “isn't about power. It’s about a sense of belonging. You belong here in Grovewood. And you belong to me, Willow. Just like I belong to you.”
His grip tightens just enough to make me gasp softly, but not in fear. Never fear.
Only need. Raw, electric, desperately coiled in the silence between us. I lean into it, not away. Because this isn’t just his hand around my throat. It’s trust. It's the ache of needing to be held, even in the most dangerous ways, by a man who would never use that need against me.
“I want you, Beck.” I gasp, my pulse racing beneath his hand. “Please.”
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that, pretty girl.
I will never betray your trust in me.” He places a blazing kiss against my lips, soft yet strong and almost more than I can handle closed inside this space with him.
“I will never ask you for more than you can give me, Willow. But you will give me everything.”
I’ve never seen such a dominating, commanding side to him.
But I always knew it was here. He’s always been the quiet, controlled type.
Never flying off the handle, never losing his cool over the small shit.
But part of me knew from the moment his eyes first locked on mine, he was a conqueror.
He will consume and complete me, but never control me against my will.
I expect that thought to bring the flood of anxiety it usually would, but it never comes.
I just bask in the feeling of his hand wrapped around my throat, his lips toying with mine.
The clean, masculine scent of leather and Beckett invades my senses until I’m drunk on him.
“I want you upstairs, in my bed, naked and waiting for me in the next five minutes. Don’t think about it, don’t talk yourself out of it.
Just do as I say.” His smooth tone leaves no room for argument or discussion.
The way he takes the decision out of my hands, knowing without a doubt this is exactly what I want, is a kind of security I’ve never experienced before.
As if he knows me better than I know myself.
I open my mouth to speak, and his eyes darken.
My jaw snaps shut, my teeth rattling together as goosebumps run down my arms. Beckett would never hurt me.
Cause me a little pain? Maybe. But never hurt me.
Without another word, I open the door, step out of the car, and close it softly behind me.
I put one foot in front of the other until I’m practically running across the driveway, through the front door, up the stairs, and into his bedroom.
Do I have time for a shower? Definitely not.
Should I try to fix my hair or something?
Why the fuck am I even thinking about this?
He told me what he wanted. All I have to do is obey.
I’ve spent my life looking for a man who meant what he said and said what he meant, and here he is right in front of me.
I don’t want to question this anymore. Taking a deep breath, I pull my shirt over my head.
Tossing it on the leather chair next to the bed, I slide my jeans down my legs.
A shiver racks my body as I take several deep breaths.
My heart already belongs to this man, so why is it so nerve-wracking to give him my body as well?
My hands immediately cover my belly, standing in his space in only my plain black bra and panties.
It’s soft, covered in the stretch marks earned while carrying my nearly ten-pound son.
I’ve never been a small girl, but having Jaxon only made my curves thicker, my hips wider, and my ass and boobs nearly doubled in size over the years.
The scars marring my body from the trials of my life with Cooper always make me feel insecure about anyone seeing me naked.
But if Beckett is gonna love me, he’s gonna love all of me.
Finally, I slide my panties down my legs until they hit the floor.
My fingers fumble with the clasp of my bra when I hear the door slam behind me.
Jumping at the sound, I spin quickly, Beck’s eyes gliding down the entirety of my body.
“Was my request unclear?” He says, his eyes predatory and deep golden.
“No, I just-” I start to say but he holds up a hand.
“You hesitated. You stood here thinking too long about what you should or shouldn’t do. Correct?” He asks, hitting the nail right on the head.
Biting my lip, my fingers still play with my bra clasp even though I’m completely bared to him from the waist down. I look away, nodding quietly.
“Look at me, Willow.” He commands. Our gazes clash in a fury of heat and need, barely held captive. “You are exquisite. There isn’t a single inch of your mind, body, or soul that I’m not completely obsessed with. Next time you hesitate, you won’t be able to sit down comfortably for a week.”