“You ready?” I growl as I move to my knees and spread her thighs.
CHAPTER 42
WILLOW
Oh.
My.
Shit.
My body doesn’t even recognize itself anymore.
Never in all my life have I ever come with a man’s finger in my ass.
I didn’t know pleasure could bend like this—coil tight and then snap, white-hot and merciless. I didn’t know my body had places that could be unlocked, rewired, claimed.
No one has ever touched methere.
Not like that.
Not the way Thatcher does.
It’s not even something I thought I would like.
It never came up. And really, I never thought about it much.
But with Thatcher? There is no end to what I want to do with him.
No limit to the things he makes me feel.
He touches me with certainty. With the kind of confidence that makes my instincts go feral and my thoughts scatter like leaves in a storm.
I’m breathless, trembling, wide open in every possible way, and I don’t feel exposed.
With him, there’s no shame. No hesitation.
I feel powerful.
Uninhibited. Sexy. Wanted.
Unapologetically so.
Maybe it’s just him.
Maybe it’sustogether.
And the way he makes my body sing like it’s been waiting its whole damn life for this moment?
Yeah, that’s the key, because I know he’s different. Special.Mine.
His hands spread me wide, reverent and rough all at once.
The stretch burns—but it’s delicious. It’s right.
My body arches instinctively, begging before my mind can catch up.
And I know I’m right—I was made for this. For him.
