32. Willow
32
WILLOW
“Bachelorette?” Vincent repeats, his voice low, dripping with a mixture of disbelief and possession. He’s lounging back on his bed, arms stretched out, his posture effortlessly relaxed, but his eyes follow my every move.
I glance at him through the mirror, adjusting the dangling earrings in my ears, the cool metal against my skin a contrast to the heat building in my chest. His gaze doesn’t leave me for a second, and the air between us thickens.
“Yeah,” I reply, my voice soft, though there’s a hint of teasing. “Just a small get-together with the girls before the wedding. Nothing crazy. You know most people have bachelor and bachelorette parties.”
He raises an eyebrow, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “Really— and do those people intend on staying married?”
I chuckle, stepping closer to the bed where he lies. “Come on, that's not what bachelorette parties are about. They’re about mourning the death of the single life.”
His eyes narrow, his lips curl into a grimace. “I don't need to mourn the single life. It was the worst part of my life.”
I freeze for a second, my fingers frozen mid-motion as I finish adjusting the earrings. I turn slowly to face him, the soft fabric of my dress shifting over my curves.
“Oh?” I ask, my tone playful, but my pulse quickening at the tension thickening between us. “And why’s that?”
His eyes flicker down to my lips before locking back on mine, his gaze intense, searing. “Because you’re mine. You being Mrs. Beaumont is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Finding you was the purpose of my life.”
His words are a spark to the fire that’s been smoldering inside me all day. I take a step closer to him, the small heels I’m wearing clicking against the floor as I move, until I’m right in front of him. His eyes don’t leave mine as I lower myself to my knees in front of him, the hem of my dress brushing against my thighs. The subtle shift in his expression tells me he’s anticipating something, but I don’t know what I want to do just yet.
I reach out, slowly trailing my fingers along the side of his knee, the action light but deliberate, letting him feel the pressure building between us.
“Mrs.Beaumont,” I murmur, my voice low, teasing. “I like the sound of that.”
Vincent’s breath hitches, his body shifting beneath me as I lean closer. “I love the sound of that,” he says, voice rough, like it’s taking everything he has not to reach for me.
I smile to myself, feeling the power of his reaction, the pull between us undeniable. “Maybe you should remind me why I’m yours.”
His hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist, not hard, but firm enough to make my heart race. He tugs me closer, his body pulling me into his as his lips graze the side of my neck. The warmth of his breath on my skin sends a shiver down my spine.
“You don’t need reminding,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my earlobe. “But I’ll happily show you.”
Before I can respond, he’s pulling me onto the bed with him, the softness of the sheets pressing against my back as he hovers over me, his weight a delicious pressure. His lips are on mine in an instant, bruising but possessive, claiming me with every kiss. I moan softly into his mouth, feeling the heat of his body seeping into mine.
His hands trail down my body, stopping just at the curve of my waist, his touch lingering for a moment before he pulls back to look at me, his eyes dark with desire.
“Do you really think I’m going to let you leave for that party?” His voice is rough, his breath shallow.
I let out a breathy laugh, my fingers running through his hair, tugging him back to me. “Maybe you should just keep me here, then.”
Vincent grins, a wicked glint in his eye. “Trust me, I’m very tempted. But tonight isn’t about keeping you to myself, is it?”
I tilt my head, a smile playing on my lips. “No, you have to share.”
Vincent’s eyes paint to a pitch black. “I can share everything but you.”
And then his lips are on mine again, his kiss deepening as his hands find the hem of my dress. I arch into him, my own hands tugging at the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against mine. He breaks the kiss just long enough to pull his shirt over his head, and I take a moment to admire him, the hard lines of his chest, the way his muscles flex as he moves.
“Fuck, Willow,” he growls, his hands sliding up my thighs, pushing my dress higher until it bunches around my waist. His fingers trace the edge of my panties, teasing me, making me shiver with anticipation.
I reach for him, pulling him back down to me, my lips finding the sensitive spot just below his ear. He groans, his hips pressing against mine, and I can feel how much he wants me, how much he’s holding back.
“Vincent,” I whisper, my breath warm against his skin. “Don’t hold back. I want all of you.”
He lets out a shuddering breath, his hands gripping my hips as he looks into my eyes. “Are you sure?”
I nod, my heart racing as I meet his gaze. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
And then he’s moving, his body pressing into mine as his lips claim me again. His hands are everywhere, touching, teasing, driving me wild with need. He pulls my dress completely off in one swift motion. I can feel the heat building inside me, a fire that only he can stoke.
“Vincent,” I moan, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he trails kisses down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin.
“Tell me what you want, Willow,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear.
“You,” I gasp, my body arching into his. “I want you.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hands slip under my back, unhooking my bra with practiced ease, and then his mouth is on my breasts, his tongue teasing my nipples until I’m writhing beneath him.
“Vincent, please,” I beg, my hands tangling in his hair as he moves lower, his lips trailing kisses down my stomach.
He pauses just above the waistband of my panties, his eyes meeting mine as he hooks his fingers into the fabric. Last chance to back out.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper, my body trembling with anticipation.
He doesn’t. He pulls my panties down my legs, tossing them aside before spreading my thighs and settling between them. His breath is hot against my skin as he leans in, his tongue flicking out to taste me.
“Fuck,” I gasp, my hips jerking as he finds my clit, his tongue circling it, teasing it until I’m panting, my hands gripping the sheets.
He doesn’t let up, his tongue working me until I’m on the edge, my body trembling with the need to come. “Vincent, I’m close,” I moan, my voice breaking.
“Come for me, Willow,” he growls, his lips closing around my clit, sucking hard as his fingers slide inside me.
And I do. My body convulses, my back arching as waves of pleasure crash over me, and I cry out his name, my nails digging into his shoulders as he works me through it, his tongue and fingers coaxing every last drop of pleasure from my body.
When I finally come down, my body trembling with aftershocks, he pulls back, his eyes dark with need as he looks down at me. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.
I reach for him, pulling him up to me, my lips finding his in a kiss that’s full of promise. “I want to feel you inside me.”
He groans, his hips pressing against mine as he reaches to cup my breasts. “You’re going to be the death of me, Willow,” he growls. My back instinctively arches as I mourn against his touch.
He chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends shivers down my spine as he positions himself at my entrance. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It’s just us, just this moment, and the overwhelming need to be as close to him as possible.
“Ready?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
I nod, my heart pounding as I wrap my legs around his waist. “Always.”
And then he’s pushing into me, his thick length stretching me, filling me in a way that has me gasping, my nails digging into his back. He moves slowly, giving me time to adjust, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Fuck, Willow,” he groans, his hands gripping my hips as he bottoms out. “You feel so good.”
“You feel amazing,” I gasp, my body adjusting to him, the pleasure building with every thrust.
He starts to move faster, his hips rolling into mine in a rhythm that has me moaning, my hands roaming over his body, desperate to touch him everywhere.
“Vincent,” I moan, my head falling back as he hits that spot inside me, the one that makes my toes curl.
“That’s it, baby,” he growls, his pace quickening, his thrusts becoming more urgent. “Let me hear you. I want to hear how much you love this.”
“Fuck, Vincent,” I cry out, my body tightening around him as I get closer and closer to the edge.
“Come for me, Willow,” he demands, his voice rough with need.
And I do. My body convulses, my back arching as waves of pleasure crash over me, and I cry out his name, my nails digging into his shoulders as he works me through it, his hips never stopping.
“Vincent,” I moan, my voice breaking.
“Come with me,” I beg, my body trembling as I feel his thrusts become erratic, his own release imminent.
And then he’s there, his body tensing as he buries himself deep inside me, his growl echoing in my ears as he comes, his hips jerking as he rides it out.
We collapse together, our bodies tangled, our breathing ragged. Vincent pulls me into his arms, his lips brushing against my forehead as we catch our breath.
“I meant what I said,” he murmurs, his voice low. “I can share everything but you.”
Before I can respond, my phone rings and I roll over to grab it off the bedside table, without looking at the caller ID I answer the call.
“Hello?”
“Bitch!” Rudy shrieks loudly in my ear. “Stop fucking and get down these stairs. We are here!”
“OMG,” I pale, hanging up the phone and looking at Vincent’s laughing face. “This is terrible.”
“Oh, it can get worse.” Vincent murmurs, pulling me closer to his chest, the feeling of his growing cock making me moan.
“What can make this worse?”
“You call them back and tell them they need to wait for round two.” Vincent presses his lips on mine fleetingly. “And three.”