Chapter 16 #2
My cheeks flush, and a gasp escapes my lips at his admission.
Helo is a dark dom daddy, and I’m a little embarrassed to admit how hot that gets me.
I’ve never experienced a man who possessed such control over himself and his emotions, while still creating a safe energy in the atmosphere around us.
I know I am completely protected here with him, but he is in control.
I unclasp my bra, letting it fall down my arms and hit the floor before standing in front of the end of the bed in nothing but the ink decorating my skin.
“Fucking flawless,” he says, his voice deep and husky as he closes the space between us.
He reaches out to me, fingertips skimming down my shoulder, grazing the side of my breast and pebbling the skin beneath his touch.
My nipples tighten to the point of pain, the silver bars piercing through them suddenly ice cold.
“Beck,” I breathe, my eyes fluttering closed as he pulls my body against his, his fingers tangling in my hair and tugging my head back until our eyes clash. His lips devour mine, and my hands slide up his shoulders instinctively. “You’re too dressed. Please, Beck.”
His fingers glide effortlessly across the buttons of his black shirt, revealing inch after inch of deliciously tattooed tan skin.
He untucks it from his black dress pants, unbuckling his belt and pulling it through the loops.
The sound of the leather sliding through the belt loops is exhilarating, erotic even.
He slides his shirt down his arms, discarding it somewhere behind him.
I’m too focused on the beautiful artwork and the beautiful man sporting it in front of me to see anything else in the room.
“Yours, Willow. All yours,” he says, unbuttoning his pants and letting them drop to the floor.
Although Beckett is around six feet, he isn’t thin by any means.
The man is solid strength, and so much of it.
I can see the outline of his cock straining against the thin material of his boxer briefs, and I feel like Pavlov’s dog, salivating at the sight. “Get on the bed.”
I back up until my legs hit the mattress, falling onto the plush surface and scooting back until my back is pressed against the pillows.
His eyes never leave mine as he strips his boxers off, his thick erection bobbing as his tattooed knees hit the bed.
He crawls up to me, the bed dipping under the solid weight of his body.
“Are you wet for me already, pretty girl?” he asks, smirking because he already knows the answer.
He grabs one ankle, pulling me down until I’m pinned under his body.
Two thick fingers toy with my entrance, and I groan.
Just the feeling of his touch is enough to have me balancing on the edge of ecstasy.
“You know I am. You know I want you, Beck. So fucking badly, I think I might actually die if you don’t fuck me right now.
” I say, breathing out a dry laugh. I’m desperate.
I don’t care if he knows it either. He replaces his fingers with the tip of his cock, teasing me until I’m writhing uncomfortably beneath him.
His mouth closes around my left nipple piercing, and I gasp loudly, my fingers tangling in his hair, holding his head against my skin.
His tongue flicks the piercing, licking and tugging as my nails rake across his scalp so hard I’m practically drawing blood.
The tip of his cock lines up with my core, and my muscles tense.
“I know it’s been a long time, Willow. Hell, it’s probably been just as long for me, honestly.
But I’m struggling to hold on to my control.
You have to talk to me. Tell me how you want me.
I can be gentle with you if that’s what you need.
” He says, kissing a path across the stretch marks on my breasts and along my sternum, the tip of his tongue tasting my skin.
“I want you exactly as you are, Beck. Unrestrained,” I tell him, pouring every ounce of that truth into him through my eyes.
“Fuck,” he whispers, taking a deep breath in before burying himself to the hilt inside me.
A scream tears from my throat. It’s not pain, but not exactly pleasure. At least not at first. He grips my upper arm, squeezing hard and burying his face in my neck. He bites the flesh between my neck and shoulder, holding himself still inside me as my body adjusts.
“Holy motherfucking shit, Willow. Fucking hell. I knew you would feel like paradise, but fuck.” He pants heavily against my skin. “I’m gonna move. Don’t tense, baby. I promise I’ll take care of you.”
I know everything he’s saying is true, but convincing my body to listen is another problem entirely.
Every muscle I possess is flexed tightly, screaming against the intrusion while my mind begs him to never leave.
I’m gonna feel him for days, but I’ve never been so completely possessed by a man.
Truth be told, I’ve only ever been intimate with one other man, and it was hardly a romantic experience.
I bury my face against his shoulder as his thrusts become more and more reckless.
His tempo is brutal, punishing even. I’ve been waiting for this since the moment I laid eyes on him, and it’s more than I could’ve ever imagined.
He punctuates every thrust with a groan, his control slipping further and further away.
I wanted him wild, and that’s exactly what he’s giving me.
Pure, unsullied lust and need. More pleasure than I’ve ever felt before, even at my own hand.
He plays my body as if he designed every nerve ending himself.
“Oh, god. Beck I-” pressure builds behind my eyes, blood rushing to my head and further south. “I don’t…I can’t…oh, fuck.”
Coherent thought is lost on me. The only thing I can focus on is the way he makes my body beg for him.
The bed frame creaks under his force, the wood groaning.
He slides one hand up, tweaking my nipple as his tongue delves into my mouth and his pelvic bone grinds against me just right to drive me absolutely fucking insane.
I’m gonna come. Years of orgasm-less, unsatisfying sex did not prepare me for the things this man is capable of.
“Come for me, pretty girl. Come all over my cock,” he demands, one hand gripping my throat loosely as my body obeys his commands.
I shatter, my body convulsing around his, and I grip his arms so tightly I know he’ll be bruised tomorrow.
He swells inside me, the sensation palpable, but his thrusts never loosing their rhythm of brutality.
“Mine. Every fucking inch of you is mine,” he growls, the need building in me all over again.
Just as I reach the peak, he hikes my leg up over his hip.
The tip of his cock pummels deeper into me, and I come with a scream.
My heart stutters in my chest, and I feel him explode inside me, the muscles in his back tightening to the point of pain as he pours everything he’s got into me.
My head falls back against the pillow, his resting against my chest as we both struggle to calm our racing hearts.
His breath comes in pants across my sweat-soaked skin until it evens out.
He drops to his side, his weight covering half of my body.
My heart rate evens out inside my chest, and the reality of what just happened creeps in on me.
I do not regret a single moment I’ve ever spent with Beckett.
But a poisonous thought creeps into my mind. I really just slept with a man who isn’t my husband. Fuck, I’m still a married woman.
“I can feel your mind spiraling, Willow. Don’t go there.
” He tugs my body closer into his side, wrapping a powerful arm around my waist and gripping me tightly.
I bite my bottom lip and nod quietly, tears gathering in the corners of my eyes.
I hate feeling even an ounce of guilt about this, but I can’t help it.
I gave my body and my heart to Cooper, and I meant it.
Even though he didn’t. Even though he betrayed me and turned that commitment into something horrific, I’m still struggling to feel like I didn’t do something wrong.
“I’m married.” The sentence hangs in the air between us as I chew the skin on the inside of my mouth.
I can feel a hint of panic rising within me, and I fucking hate being this way.
Cooper doesn’t deserve my loyalty or respect.
I left for a damn good reason, and I deserve to have happiness in my life.
“No. You aren’t.” He says so matter-of-factly it interrupts my downward spiral. Sitting up, I give him a questioning look, waiting for his elaboration.
“I’m pretty sure I was there.” I joke, my mind a hurricane of anxiety, confusion, and the remnants of the euphoric feelings Beck gave me only moments ago.
“Lily Miller is married. And you haven’t been her in a long fucking time.
Willow Hawthorne is free as the breeze, baby.
” He smirks, his face half buried in the pillow next to me.
He speaks with so much confidence, I can’t disagree.
I am my own woman, and the only power Cooper has over me is whatever I give him. And I choose to give him nothing.
How can I when everything I am and everything I have already belongs to Beckett?