And they had it in spades.
“You hungry?” His words rumbled against her neck as he rained kisses there, punctuating them with licks and nips with his teeth.
“Not for food.”
He groaned, the vibration sending a shiver down Willow’s neck and shooting straight to her nipples. They hardened beneath her tank top, ached for his hands or his mouth or both.
“You’re making it damn difficult to give you the romantic replay of that night—the one you deserved that I couldn’t give you then.”
She pulled back and cupped his face, the couple days’ worth of scruff scratchy against her fingertips. “You can romance the hell out of me. After.”
He placed his hand on the small of her back, pulling her in until their bodies were flush. Pressing her against the hard ridge of his cock. “Last chance, Willowtree. You gonna let me be a gentleman, or what?”
Finn and gentleman didn’t belong in the same sentence, especially in regards to the bedroom—or tree house, as it were. And that was one of the many reasons she loved him. He took what he wanted without apology, doled out pleasure like candy, and she was ready for every bit of it.
Stepping back, she gripped the hem of her tank and pulled it up and off, leaving her bare under his gaze. One of the benefits of having small breasts—no need for a bra. Something Finn definitely approved of, if his heated gaze and low growl of appreciation were any indication.
For two breaths, neither of them moved, both frozen, and then it was like something snapped in each of them. They crashed together, hands grappling with clothing, peeling layers off until they were both finally bare. Tripping over the picnic basket, they tumbled into a pile of pillows in the corner, their mouths never breaking.
Finn swept his tongue against hers, his hands roaming her body, exploiting all the places that made her weep with pleasure. When he grazed her clit, she tipped her head back, a moan lodged in her throat. Once he slid his fingers deep inside her and rocked his palm against her, that moan broke free, her hips lifting to meet his hand.
“Ahh, you are hungry for it, aren’t you? My greedy girl.”
Willow groaned, her head tipped back as he sucked her nipple deep into his mouth, his fingers still working their magic inside her. She was already close, though she shouldn’t have been surprised. Finn had a way of wringing every ounce of pleasure from her body—pleasure she didn’t even realize she was capable of reaching.
“You’re gonna come all over my fingers, aren’t you? Christ, can’t wait to feel that pussy squeezing my cock. C’mon, sweetness. Give it to me so I can slide nice and deep.” He pumped his fingers into her harder, faster, his palm a constant pressure on her clit.
Three more thrusts and she peaked, her body going taut, her breasts jutting out to meet his tongue as she pulsed through her release. Struggling to catch her breath, she managed to get out, “Finn…” But he knew what she wanted. What she needed.
Sometime while she was lost in her bliss, he’d sheathed himself with a condom, and then settled his weight between her thighs, his cock nudging her entrance before he slid inside. The girth of him stretching her, just this side of painful.
“Sweet fucking Jesus, how does this pussy get better every time you let me inside?” He pulled out, soft and slow, letting her feel every generous inch of him before he snapped his hips forward and drove deep. “Anyone who says heaven isn’t on earth’s never been inside you, have they?”
Willow couldn’t answer—how could he expect her to? Especially when he sat back and propped her ankle on his shoulder, his hips rolling forward, sliding him even farther inside with each thrust.
“Look at you, taking me so deep. That sweet, pretty pussy spreading wide around my cock.” He turned, pressed his lips to her ankle. “Tell me how much you love it.”
“So, so much,” she managed to get out through panting breaths.
He stared at where they were joined, his thumb brushing in a mindless pattern against her hip. Except when she glanced down, he wasn’t tracing something random on her skin. And he wasn’t watching where he disappeared inside her. Instead, his thumb traced the sparrow at her hip, his eyes locked on it, lips parted.
She reached out, brushing her fingers down the wispy leaves of the willow tree on his side. Caressing each winding path of the roots. Her heart swelled as she split her gaze between those black marks on his skin and his focused stare on her tattoo, the reverent way he traced the mark, the soft words of adoration spilling from his lips.
And hell. She’d known this would happen. There hadn’t been a doubt in her mind when he’d come back, when he’d focused his attention on her, that they’d end up here. Thatshe’dend up here. In love with a Thomas boy who wasn’t going to stick around.
She was so screwed.
* * *
Finn rocked into Willow,a slow roll of his hips, wanting to do everything in his power to prolong the pleasure of being inside her. She traced his tattoo with her fingertips and shot sparks off under his skin, hardening his cock even more.
For years, he’d imagined this—had hoped he might one day be with her again, but he’d never actually thought it’d happen. He couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to be experiencing this with her again. That she’d not only let him inside, but welcomed him. Time and time again.
It was, quite literally, his dream come true.
On a sharp thrust, Willow curled her fingers against his side, her nails digging in as her eyelids fluttered closed and a moan slipped from her lips. He couldn’t help how his cock swelled at the proof of how much pleasure he brought her. That he was the one wringing those moans from her, the one she squeezed with that tight as hell pussy.
“Is it good, sweetness?”
