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I wondered how she’d look with pink roots but white ends. The transition was rather uncommon. To me, she'd look hot with any hairstyle and color transition, but I think the pack could agree: we did like her barbie pink locks and the length of them.
Good to cling to in bed.
The thought of sex reminded me of my celibacy. I wasn't sure if that was the term people used for it, but I chose not to have sex, even when it was beginning to grow harder with Willow in the picture. I bet some would say masturbation was within the sex department, but I considered that foreplay.
How else would a man like myself stay sane with a shifter sex drive?
When my grief was new, I didn't have the mood for any of that, but in the last couple of months with Willow in our lives, my sex drive was growing. I could envision myself fucking her. Envision her small body beneath me as I fucked her senseless.
I bit my lip while I began to tie her hair, my eyes lowering to her shoulder. There was a space between the mass of hickeys on her flesh that called to me, the nudge of desire growing within me while my cock was beginning to grow hard with need.
I couldn't ignore the urge any longer. My head lowered until my lips pressed firmly against her flesh. She remained still as if expecting my brief touch of affection, and because she didn't move away, I allowed myself to get lost in the moment of tenderness.
Her soft moan encouraged me to continue, my kisses turning into light sucks and nips. I sank my teeth a little deeper while I let go of her ponytail to lower my hands down her sides and keep her steady while I pressed her lightly against the island.
My lips continued to do their thing, while I moved along her shoulder until I was nestled into the side of her neck. She arched right into me, and fuck, did I want to fill her up with my cock, but I reigned in my spike of arousal, trying to take things slow.
I didn't want to fuck this up or make Willow think I only wanted to connect with her because of sex. I enjoyed her company, admired her strength, and acknowledged her independence. Maybe I craved a relationship at a slower pace than when I'd connected with my ex-mate.
Maybe I need that slowness to move on.
When I was satisfied, I released her and slowly shifted her stance until she was facing me. One look into her eyes made my tongue glide over my bottom lip -seconds before I devoured hers.
She accepted my kiss and combated my tongue with her own. The two of us enjoyed a new realm of fighting, each kiss stronger than the last while our bodies meshed together.
I was breathless, just like she was, when we finally parted, our lustful eyes locking onto one another once more while our swollen lips were slightly open to help us breathe.
"The milk is gonna get cold," she reminded me. "Unless you want that."
I smirked at her statement. "Can't let the hassle go to waste."
She smiled in return, but we couldn't help but lean further inward and share one more kiss. This was what I loved about Willow. I didn't need to think deeply about the justifications needed to kiss her - love her - and probably fuck her.
She somehow understood me -understood each of us -in her own unique way, and though I was horny and desperate to enjoy her luscious body in my grasp, I knew I had wounds that needed to heal.
And she somehow understood that.
We ended up taking our drinks to the balcony. The two of us leaned against the black metal rails and sipped on our steamy, hot milk. The security guards were in their proper positions, standing at attention as they should.
I was sure they caught our scents, particularly Willow's, which was mixed with Neo's cologne. I was actually impressed Saint hadn't already enjoyed a night with Willow with the new apparent bond mark she'd created.
Or Willa created.
We hadn't had another encounter with "psycho" Willow, but maybe that was due to her meds’ effectiveness. Aurelia was trying to figure out a new combination that would accommodate Willow's new routine of switching back and forth between Willow and William, but until then, we'd just have to keep watch for if Willa decided to pay a visit.
I think the others could agree, she wasn't necessarily weird. She was intriguingly different, protective, and powerful. It only proved Willow held secrets of her own -powerful, lethal secrets about what she was capable of.
So many individuals underestimated her. Heck, her own Pack House thought she was useless. I was sure now with her racking up to be the richest woman NYC had witnessed, they would begin the typical game of sucking up, but Willow knew better.
They could suck up as much as they wanted, but Willow wasn't a fool. No one would just waltz into her life, especially when they’d rated her as nothing mere months ago.
"Want to go for a run?"
I was slightly surprised by Willow's suggestion. My eyes moved from the sky, tugging away from the crescent moon. A full moon was approaching, and I was sure we were all craving to run as a pack again.
"Do you want to run?" I countered her question with my own.
"Bria wants to run," she answered, and I arched my eyebrow at the name.
