She saunters toward my bedroom door, smirking over her shoulder. “Sure remembered mine. You moaned it about a million times.”
Fuck me.
My body is satiated and boneless, but my mind is far from satisfied. I need the claiming between us to expand beyond my release—I want to taste her too.
I spring from bed, checking the clock to ensure Willow was right and we have plenty of time, before I tug on a pair of sweatpants and stalk into the kitchen. Her back is turned to me, a warm glow illuminates the space from a lamp she flicked on in the living room. Willow sways her hips to some tune she’s humming as she presses start on the espresso maker—the picture of perfection. The sight I’d very much like to wake to every morning for the rest of my life.
I grasp her hips, hauling her backward and spinning her in my arms. She shrieks with laughter as I grip beneath her arms and lift her, setting her on the counter and stepping between her legs. Her eyes widen, a baffled grin spreading over her cheeks. She must clock the seriousness on my face though, because her features morph into bemused curiosity when she tilts her head, honeyed hair swaying with the movement.
It’s still dark outside, only the faint crest of indigo sky peeking through the window on the front door, but it’s enough to brighten her beautiful face. Mixed with the warm light in the room, she’s shrouded in gold. She’s the definition of golden, in fact.
Her swollen lips purse, parting on a questioned whisper of my name, “Wes?—”
“I want my turn now.”
“Oh.” Her eyes flare, mouth popping open with the word. “You really don’t have to do that. It wasn’t a tit for tat kind of thing.”
“I’m aware.” I press a kiss to her nose. “The thing is...” I drag my lips down to her jaw, pressing our bodies closer as I run my tongue down the column of her throat, earning a gasp from her. “I’m starving, love.” I peer upward, mouth on her chest, her heart drumming against me. “I’m in desperate need to taste you too.”
When Willow darts her gaze away, a rush of defeat funnels through me. I thought I was doing a fairly good job of being seductive here, but when Willow sighs deeply, rearing back from me and closing her arms around her middle, caging herself in, I know something is wrong.
“What has you so hesitant, baby?” I ask, not stepping away from her entirely, but retreating enough to allow her to breathe.
“Nobody has touched—seen—me...” She bites her lip, eyes cast downward. “Since, um... Since Parker, and he had... thoughts about my body. I’ve never been insecure about what I look like, and for the most part, I could shake off his comments, but when he’d speak of the pieces of me that only he was looking at... I don’t know. They hit harder, I guess. It wasn’t as if I could go to Allie or my parents for reassurance, it wasn’t as if I had many other opinions to compare it to. Those things he said about me are kind of the only thing I see about myself now.” Her gaze flutters up, so timid and unsure. So unlike her it shreds me to my core. “I’m afraid you’ll feel the same way.”
I’m fucking gutted.
Annihilated by the broken look on her face, the fractured tone in her voice.
“That's why I have trouble...” she continues, exhaling heavily. “It’s just hard to touch or look at myself without remembering what he said—what he saw when he looked at me there. It’s hard to imagine anyone else seeing me differently.”
“That day in the shower . . . you were . . .”
She snorts. “I was feeling bold. Plus, I knew you likely weren’t going to touch me that way. I knew I wasn’t going to be spread-eagle and directly at your eye line.”
A soft laugh escapes me, and I tilt her head up. “Willow, baby. I’m so sorry some insecure, limp-dick piece of shit made you feel otherwise, but you are fucking perfect.” I kiss her lightly, she leans into my touch. “I’m a patient man, I know it’ll taketime for you to forget his words. Luckily for you, I’m also a determined man, and right now, I’m pretty fucking determined to replace memories of him with memories of me instead.”
She moans, head kicking back as I glide my lips down her neck again, continuing my pursuit of her body. “Move slow.”
“You set the pace, Wills,” I rasp against her flesh. “You need me to stop, just say that word, okay?”
She nods, and I inch my fingers beneath the hem of her shorts, crawling toward the center of her thighs. She whimpers when I reach the crease of her thigh and my hand makes contact with her panties.
“This okay?” I ask, nipping at the neckline of her tank.
She nods, hips bucking. Using my teeth and my free hand, I pull down her top, exposing her breasts. I palm one, and she arches into the touch as I slip a finger beneath her underwear.
The last thing I wanted when Willow and I reached this point was to be unable to please her the way she deserved, so I’d researched a few diagrams of the female body and its erogenous zones. I’ve been reading her romance books too, so I know that the stimulation of the clit is essential.
When I slip my finger along her slit, I feel her bud roll under the pad of it. The deep exhale she lets out confirms everything her books have been saying. I move in small, rhythmic circles, keeping a solid pace and not adding too much pressure.
“Is this good, Wills? Tell me if it’s not.”
“Good.” She pants, moving her hips in sync with me. “So good.”
I continue stroking her as I swipe my tongue across her breast, taking one of her peaked nipples into my mouth and flicking it. The sound she elicits soaks into my bones, spurring me further.
I continue my pursual of her chest as my finger slips downward, teasing her center. “How about this? Can I go inside? I’m desperate to know what you feel like.”
