This close, I can smell her—buttercups and vanilla and underneath it all, the heady musk of her slick and my pack that makes my Alpha sit up and take notice.
“Spoon?” I ask.
She fumbles with the one in her hand, her fingers grazing mine as she hands it to me. The first scoop is loaded with cookie dough chunks, and I hold it up to her lips.
“Open.”
She does, her eyes locked on mine, and I slide the spoon into her mouth. Watching her pouty, swollen lips close around it, watching her eyes flutter closed as she tastes it—it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.
“Good?” My voice is barely above a whisper.
“Mmm.” She nods, swallowing. “Really good.”
I feed her another bite, then take one myself. Her eyes never leave the spoon on its slow journey to my lips. Somewhere between the spoonful and the low groan I make—because it’s fucking good—the moment shifts.
Her breathing changes. Her pupils dilate.
“Charlie,” she breathes.
“Willa.” I lean in, my hands braced on either side of her hips on the counter, caging her in. “What do you think? Should we have a do-over?”
The only answer I need is the slight shift of her hips toward me and the parting of her lips—then my mouth is on hers, claiming the kiss I’ve always wished we’d had.
I kiss her. Like I'm starving.
TWENTY-ONE
charlie
It’snothing like that first kiss. This is heat and hunger and years of wanting, all poured into one moment. She tastes like cookie dough and vanilla, her lips intoxicating, and her kiss is something that’s purely Willa.
And I can’t get enough.
My hands find her thighs, spreading them wider so I can step between them. She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me flush against her. I can feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of my sweats, can smell the sharp, intoxicating spike of her arousal, and it takes everything I have not to lose control completely, knowing there’s nothing between me and her sweet, slick pussy.
“Charlie,” she whimpers against my mouth. “Please.”
“Please what, sweetheart?” I pull back just enough to look at her. “Tell me what you need.”
“You.” Her hands slide down my chest, nails dragging against my skin. “I need you.”
I groan and capture her mouth again, one hand sliding up under Beau’s shirt to find bare skin. She’s so soft, so warm, and when my hand cups her breast, she arches into my touch with a moan that goes straight to my cock.
I break the kiss, my breath ragged. “Fuck, Willa,” I growl, my voice hoarse with desire. “You feel so good.”
The shirt rides up, and I get my first real look at her—flushed and needy and absolutely perfect.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur, my hands on her thighs again, spreading her wider. “So perfect.”
“Charlie, please.” She’s trembling now, her scent so thick in the air I can barely think. “I need you.”
“God, I’ve wanted you for so long.” The admission is pulled from somewhere deep inside me.
She smiles with a wicked glint. “Show me how much,” she whispers, her voice a sultry invitation.
I don’t need to be told twice. I pull the shirt from her body in one fluid motion. Her skin is soft and smooth, her hips flaring out in a way that makes my mouth water. I lean down, pressing a kiss to her stomach, feeling her muscles quiver under my lips.
My eyes lock on her glistening center, slick coating her thighs for me. I can see her clit, swollen and begging for attention. I lean down, inhaling her scent, a heady mix of her natural musk and the sweetness of her arousal.
