Like I’m trying to say everything I don’t know how to say with words with my body.
And she gets it.
She gets me.
Willow’s lips part for me, and I take advantage—deepen the kiss, taste her, claim her again.
She answers with a sound that undoes me.
A desperate little whimper that’s all need and trust.
My fingers slide beneath her shirt—my shirt—and I lift it slowly, savoring the reveal.
Her skin is warm.
Her body is so soft.
Plump. Smooth. Real.
When I pull the shirt over her head and drop it to the floor, she looks at me with flushed cheeks and wide eyes, like she can feel the worship in my gaze.
“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I murmur, and her lashes flutter like I’ve caught her off guard.
“I don’t know what to say when you talk like that.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just let me show you.”
I kiss her throat, feel her pulse flutter under my mouth.
Then lower—to her collarbone, the curve of her shoulder.
I ease her back until her knees hit the bed.
She looks up at me, breath shaky, and I swear there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for this woman.
I’m staring at her naked breasts. They’re large and heavy.
And I want to fuck them. Want to paint her in my cum.
“I love your tits,” I growl, voice rough with restraint.
Then I lift them in my hands, and I squeeze the tips, plucking at them until she whimpers.
“This okay?” I ask when I twist and pull them harder.
Willow nods, her pupils completely blown.
Then, she whispers, “You can do anything you want to me, Thatcher. I’m yours.”
God help me.
It’s exactly what I need to hear.
I lower her down and follow, covering her body with mine, careful but not shy.
Her legs part for me, welcoming me in.
Her hands are already on my back, pulling me closer. Like she needs the weight of me.The heat.
