“Willow,” he murmurs through clenched teeth, nails digging into my hips as his eyes flare—a thousand shades of blue shattering like glass when his body goes taut, stomach tightening before his cock surges with the weight of his climax.
He continues bucking—fucking me through it, nothing if not determined to get me there too. The coiled heat in my core and the pressure of his hand against my clit bursts, sparks blanketing my vision as an orgasm rips me apart. My back arches, hands raking at his sweat-slicked chest as his name flies from my mouth.
We rock against each other fervently, wringing every last drop of the pleasure coursing through our veins, before slowing our movements as we float down from the stars together. I collapse onto his chest, the sound of our mixed staccato breathing filtering through the lust-hazed air.
Weston’s heart pounds against my ear, matching the drumming of my own—as if our joining synched us together, creating a symbiotic force all its own.
We lie in stunned silence for what could be hours—I’ve lost the ability to tell time. Weston’s knuckles drift up and down my spine until my breathing evens out and our heartbeats regulate. He’s still inside me, but I don’t have the strength to separate from him quite yet.
“Willow,” he whispers into the darkness.
“Yeah?”
“That was the best sex of my life.”
The most obnoxious snort tears from my nose, and I turn my head to rest my chin on his chest, peering up at him. He tosses me a crooked smile that forces a laugh from me. “I hate you.”
He brushes the wild hair from my face. “No, you don’t.”
I scrunch my nose, unable to even mock a frown when he’s looking at me like this—studying me with rapt adoration, tilting his head and touching my skin like he’s not sure I’m even real. When I’m post-orgasm high, and safe in the arms of a partner for what may truly be the first time. “No. I don’t.”
I lift off him, both of us sighing as he leaves me empty. He rises out of bed, disposing of the condom before returning and pulling me onto his chest. “Does it always feel like that?”
“It’s never felt like that for me before,” I whisper against his skin.
He dips his chin, peering down at me through his lashes. “Really?”
I nod. “It felt like... more. I can’t explain it.” I sigh softly. “Like you weren’t just inside me, you wereall overme. Like my breath was your source of oxygen and my touch was bringing you to life.” I laugh breathlessly. “I’m struggling to find the words, but you made me feel... essential, Weston. Every other time made me feel like my body was better than their hand, but you make me feel like your entire soul rests in the palm of mine.”
“It does, I think,” he admits on a rough exhale, lips drifting over my temple. “I was serious, Wills. You are devastatingly perfect. I don’t need all the experience in the world to know it’ll never feel like this with someone else.”
I hum in agreement, nodding against him. “Do you feel okay? No regrets?”
He laughs from deep in his chest, and it rumbles against my ear, mixing with his heartbeat. “No regrets, Wills. Not a single one.” His hand splays over my spine, fingers gliding over my back. “I think you unraveled me entirely, and I’ll be craving youevery second of the day for the rest of my existence, but... fuck. I’m not complaining about it.” His eyes flash to mine, crinkling in the corners with the smile he offers me. “You’re everything.”
I cup his cheek, brushing my thumb over his bottom lip. “You’re everything too.”
I’m stirred toconsciousness the following morning by the rock hard rod digging relentlessly into my lower back. I press against it, earning a groan from Weston as he stretches his limbs and begins to wake. “It’s too early to be brandishing a weapon like that.”
His thick laugh skates across the nape of my neck, dripping down my spine warm and slow. His lips brush against my shoulder before I roll to face him, finding a sleepy, sated smile on his handsome face. His deep blue eyes are brighter than they’ve ever been, catching on the morning light filtering through the window above us.
“Your fault,” he rasps, arching his hips and pressing his cock into my stomach.
I respond with a small moan as I lift my hand to his face, brushing back the hair on his forehead. “How’d you sleep?”
“Same as I always do beside you. Perfectly.”
My lips quirk, chest filling with honey at the sound of his voice. “You still feel okay? About everything?”
“Yeah, Wills.” His brows draw together, lips pursing—a contemplative look, like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “I feel perfect.Thisis perfect.”
Perhaps I’m checking in too much, but I want to ensure he’s okay with this. With us. Withme. I tilt my head, peeringup at him, uncertainty swirling inside me. “It felt good for you, though? I...” I swallow. “My... It felt okay?”
He draws circles over my shoulder with his thumb. “Okaywould be a terribly inaccurate word to describe what you felt like to me.Goodand evengreatwould also be inferior.Otherworldly, perhaps?Earth-shattering? Fuckingmind-altering? Those would be fitting descriptions for the experience of being inside your body.” Weston’s brows knit. “I want to understand where these insecurities stem from, Willow, because I want to know how to reassure you the right way.”
I muffle a smile against his skin, and he grips my chin to reveal it. I bite my lip, dropping my gaze as I run a finger down the center of his chest. “When Parker assaulted me...” I sigh. “It started consensual, but he removed the condom without asking me. I didn’t realize until after he’d finished.” I swallow hard, that familiar yet suppressed bite of shame resurfacing. “I battled with whether I could call it that at first, honestly. Whether I could say he assaulted me, because I know so many women experience much worse.”
“It doesn’t lessen the reality of what happened to you. You have the right to call it what it is,” he says softly.
