“You implied it.”
She flicks my chest with a sinful grin.
“Well, if the shoe fits.”
Brat.
I grip her hips, thumbs digging into her sides “Then I’ll just have to prove you wrong.”
Oh, she's in for it, and she doesn't even know.
Before she can protest, I lift her, straddling my face. The remnants of our combined release drip along her inner thighs, and I lick them up, savouring the taste.
I've not done this before, but with her, I'll do anything.
“Elijah, you can't do that,” she pants, trying to shift, but I slap her ass, hard enough to make her yelp.
“Sit on my face so I can clean you up. Say no again, and I’ll tie you to this bed and eat your pussy all night without letting you come.”
I yank her down without warning, trapping her against me, mouth and tongue hungrily tracing her heat. I savour the way we taste.
Damn, we taste so fucking good together.
If I died right now, I'd die smiling—there's no better way to go.
Death by magical Willow pussy.
Chapter 30
Willow
Watching him sleep is probably weird. Borderline serial-killer vibes, but it helps the thoughts inside my head.
Nights are usually the worst. That's when everything I've managed to outrun all day finally catches up. Grief doesn't knock—it just slides in beside me and makes itself comfortable. It tries to convince me that I’m all alone and that it's not worth living anymore, which did work.
Until Elijah.
Elijah has the biggest heart of anyone I've ever known, even if he pretends he doesn't. He loves his family with a loyalty that borders on reckless. He makes me laugh when I don't want to. He knows exactly how to pull me out of my own head.
So yeah, maybe watching him like this is a little pathetic. Maybe it's too personal.
But it eases the ache.
As long as he wants me in his life—as long as he keeps reaching for me the way he does—I’ll stay. I’ll keep choosing him. Even on the hard days.
Especially on the hard days.
I’m also extremely sore; I can barely move without wincing. Every tiny movement reminds me of last night.
Or more accurately, when he finally stopped fucking me two hours ago.
Not that I’m complaining. Not even a little bit.
That man does not do anything halfway. His stamina is off the charts. The only break I got was to pee, and that was a struggle. And the way he uses his tongue? I should probably be sending it a thank-you card.
Elijah doesn't need a neon sign to find anything.
I try to roll onto my other side and immediately regret it, thighs protesting, hips aching in the most satisfying way possible. Honestly, I look like I've just completed an Olympic event I didn't train for.
