19. Willow #2
“Is this what you want, Willow?” Beck asks. His voice is low and heavy, and I wish I were closer to him so I could feel his breath on me. “You want me hard and needy for you?”
“Yes,” I say breathlessly.
“Fuck, baby. Can I come closer?” he asks. My heart feels like it’s going to break out of my chest. He wants to be closer to me? Does this mean he might… he might touch me?
“Yes,” I say on a moan because apparently, yes is all I can say at this point.
He stands from the chair and kicks his jeans off and out of the way before he walks closer, hand still wrapped around himself. He falls to his knees in front of me, right in between my spread legs.
He doesn’t touch me, though. He stays right where he is, just watching.
“Can you lift your shirt up for me, baby? I want to see your pretty little tits.”
It’s the second time he’s called me baby, and I’m not sure if it’s just a slip of the tongue or what, but I love it. I don’t think I could get tired of hearing him say it.
I do as instructed and lift my, well, his shirt up, exposing my breasts. Since he’s close now, I can see his eyes roam over every inch of my skin all the way up to my nipples. I cup my breast, squeezing it gently before I roll my nipple between my fingers.
“Goddamn, you’re so perfect. It’s not fair, Willow. It’s not fair how badly I want you.”
My orgasm is climbing faster and faster. I want this to last. I want him to watch me forever, but my body has other plans. “Beck, I’m going to come.”
“Fuck, yes, baby. Let me watch you come for me.”
With his words, I break apart. I swallow down my moans so that the house stays quiet, but my body shakes from the pleasure.
I open my eyes to find Beck still watching me. His eyes are hooded, and he’s looking at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. It gives me courage to slide my fingers through my release and hold them out to him.
He doesn’t hesitate, not even a second, before he leans forward and sucks my fingers into his mouth.
“Fuck, Willow… I need. I need to come.”
“Stand up,” I tell him before I lose my confidence.
“What?” he asks, but he does it anyway. I slide from the couch to my knees in front of him and stick out my tongue.
“Baby… what? Are you sure?” I watch his hand stroke his dick. It’s getting faster and faster, and I know we don’t have long.
I nod and stick my tongue out even further, opening my mouth up to him. I’ve never done this before, but I’ve kind of always wanted to.
His free hand grabs the side of my head to steady it. Just the tip of his dick touches my tongue a second before I feel the warm liquid hit the back of my throat. His body jerks in front of me as he spurts line after line of cum into my mouth.
I don’t swallow yet. I can’t. It’s all coming at me at once, and I’m so focused on watching Beck that I don’t even think about it.
His hand slows as his orgasm ends, and he slowly pulls away from me. But instead of taking a few steps back like I expect him to, he cups my chin and makes me look up at him.
“You gonna swallow all this, Willow? Show me what a good girl you are?”
Fuuuuuck.
I nod, my face still within his grip.
“Show me.” He releases my chin, and I close my mouth and force myself to swallow. Luckily, I don’t have much of a gag reflex. I squeeze my eyes closed and swallow the load as fast as I can.
Once it’s down, I open my eyes and look up at Beck. I open my mouth and stick out my tongue to show him it’s gone.
“Willow… I…”
I can see the regret start to form in his eyes as he comes out of his lust haze and realizes who exactly is on their knees in front of him.
For a moment, I think about running, but it’s still storming.
I can hear the rain hitting the roof. But the lightning and thunder have died down.
I’m sure I can make it back to Sawyer’s ok.
But just as I’m about to stand and leave to save myself from any more embarrassment, Beck holds out his hand to me. “That was beautiful, Willow. You are beautiful. Thank you for giving me that.”
I nod and swallow back the tears. Maybe he doesn’t regret it after all. He helps me up and then turns to grab his own underwear from his jeans. He slides them back on while I make sure my clothes are fixed.
He grabs a blanket and lies down on the couch. “Lay with me,” he says.
It’s the last thing I’m expecting from him. He wants to cuddle? After we just watched each other in the most intimate of situations, he wants to cuddle?
Who am I to say no to that?
I climb on top of him, squeezing myself between the back of the couch and his body.
“You comfortable?” he asks.
“Very,” I answer, draping my arms over his chest. I’m suddenly very sleepy.
We’re silent for a moment. I imagine he’s probably thinking the same thing I am: I can’t believe we just did that.
“We’re not very good at this friends thing,” he finally says.
I chuckle. “No, we’re not.”
He kisses my forehead, and it doesn’t slip my mind that even after everything that’s happened tonight, he hasn’t kissed me on the lips.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to bring it up, but I swallow it down.
I pushed him tonight. He’s drawn the line several times, and I keep making it harder and harder for him.
It’s not the time to bring it up. So I snuggle in tight and let my eyes slowly close.