Meanwhile, her hands are busy too.
They reach toward my jeans, quickly popping the button open before dragging the zipper down and pulling them along with my boxers, yanking both down my hips as far as they will go.
Good thing I took my shoes off before coming up here.
Reluctantly, I pull away from her and get off the bed, sliding my jeans and boxers down until they fall to the floor. When I stand up straight again, I’m right in front of her, breathing heavily.
My muscles are tight, my hands flexing as I roll my knuckles.
And Willow is on the bed, on her knees. Her thighs are parted, her lips swollen from us kissing, and her nipples are flushed and pointed from where I was sucking on them moments ago.
She looks like a goddess I want to devour.
“You have no idea how beautiful you look right now,” I tell her.
Her eyes are bright like the morning sun.
“So do you.”
I grin at that.
“You think I’m beautiful, baby?”
She shrugs, but the little flutter of her lashes gives her away.
“Men can be beautiful. In a rugged way.”
My fingers drag over my stubbled jaw thoughtfully. “Be sure to tell that to Ez next time he tells me to shave.”
She laughs at that, the sound lighting me up. But her gaze drops to my very hard and very impatient cock.
“I hope you don't," she says, tilting her head as she studies it. “It feels really good when you eat me out.”
That piece of information files itself away in my brain immediately.
Take that, Ez.
I shoot her a quick wink.
“Turn around for me.”
I twirl my finger in a little circle, and she shuffles around on the bed without arguing.
And when she does—
Fuck.
The sight of her from behind nearly knocks the air out of me. Her ass is perfectly rounded, the thin thong barely covering anything, and I have to clench my jaw and count to ten to stop myself from biting into it.
I move in behind her, chest against her back, letting my hands settle firmly on her hips. My fingers knead the soft curve of her waist, guiding her just enough to feel how perfectly she moulds against me. The mirrors in front of us capture every angle, and damn, we look good together.
She's looking at me in the mirror, but she isn't really seeing herself.
Her gaze keeps sliding away from her own reflection, lingering on mine instead, like the image of her makes her uncomfortable. I know that look. I know exactly where her thoughts have wandered.
No.
I won't have it.
