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I’m on the edge of losing control entirely. I can feel my cock pulsing, the tip leaking even more precum from the need I feel right now. It seems like it should be impossible for one woman to be so fucking sexy without even really trying, but Willow does it. She manages to make me feel things no one else ever has before.
My blood rushes in my ears, and the next time I look over at Willow, I can’t take my eyes off her, caught up in the sight of her pleasure.
She was slow and tentative at first, but she’s more confident now. That, or she’s just more lost in the feelings and sensations, not caring about me watching. Or at least not letting it stop her. She definitely cares, and the way she darts little glances up at me every so often proves that.
Me watching her, reading to her, being here as a part of this? She wants all of it, and I love knowing that.
I love knowing that she’s this fucking needy. Just for me.
“You don’t have to tell me how wet you are anymore,” I tell her. “I canhearit. I can fucking smell it, Solnyshka. The way you smell when you’re this turned on is my favorite goddamned thing in the world. Sinful and sweet at the same time. I would lap you up if I could.”
“You would?”
“Fuck, yes.” The hopeful edge to her voice nearly snaps my restraint, but I manage to answer with words instead of just showing her what I want to do. “I’d spear my tongue into you and gather up every single drop. I’d drink you down like the finest fucking wine. Until my entire chin was soaked. I’d make you come on my face, and then I’d do it all over again.”
“I…” Her voice breaks off, turning into a whimper. “I miss that.”
Fuck.
With the way my cock is throbbing, I’m almost certain I’m about to come in my fucking pants, but I don’t even care. Willow is about to come too, and getting her over the edge is all I care about right now. It takes a monumental act of will, but I rip my gaze away from her and keep reading. The hero is fucking the heroine now, rough and dirty, a carnal meeting of bodies that’s born of nothing but raw need.
“Please,” Willow moans, and I look at her again. She’s working her hips against her hand as the other hand plays with her tits again. She’s flushed all over and covered in a fine sheen of sweat, tendrils of her hair sticking to her temples. “Please, please, please.”
“What do you want?” I ask, and I have to clear my throat to get my words to come out. The air is thick with the scent of sex, and it’s shredding my already strained control.
“I’m so close, Malice,” she manages to get out. “I’m so close, please. Please, I wanna come. Oh my god.”
The way her voice sounds so wrecked goes straight to my cock, and I groan, closing my eyes and sucking in another few deep breaths.
When I look at her again, she’s staring right at me, her eyes boring into mine, the need clear on her face.
“There you go. Such a good girl,” I murmur gruffly, egging her on. Praising her and encouraging her. “That’s right. Let go. Come for me. I wanna see it. I wanna see you lose it for me. Ride your fucking hand, Solnyshka, like the dirty, perfect girl you are.”
She whines in response to my words, a breathy, desperate sound. It’s as if my permission is exactly what she’s been waiting for. There’s less of the wild desperation from a few minutes ago—she’s still following my directions to go slower—but I can tell when she plunges her fingers into herself again. The wet noise is loud in the quiet of the living room, and she shakes and writhes on the couch.
Her other hand pinches and twists at her nipple, and she digs those fingers in, moaning from the pleasure and the pain. “I’m… oh fuck!”
It’s such a fucking beautiful sight, and I keep watching, breathless, as she shivers and then comes on her own hand with a soft cry.
My mouth is so dry that I couldn’t go back to reading if I wanted to. Not withthisin front of me. I’ve never been so close to coming without anyone touching my cock before, but it makes sense that if anyone was going to drive me to the edge like this, it would be Willow. My cock is so hard it’s painful, and I feel like I could explode if she breathed on it right.
“Goddamn,” I croak. “No one has ever wrecked me like you do, Solnyshka. I haven’t even touched you, and you just fucking ruined me.”
On the couch, Willow shudders through her aftershocks. They seem to go on forever, wracking her body from head to toe at first before finally fading into small little tremors. When the last of them passes through her, she blinks her eyes open, finally pulling her hand out of her pants.
She looks at me across the length of the couch, her brown eyes dark and liquid.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
Those two words hit me harder than anything she’s spoken up to this point.
In a heartbeat, I toss the book to the side and surge to my feet, finally closing the distance between us. Leaning over her, I cage her in a little with my arms as I drop a firm kiss to her forehead. When she tilts her head up, leaning into my touch, I follow her lead and kiss her lips next, feeling protective over her—the way I always do—but also so many other things that I can barely name them all.
Possessive.
Hungry.
So full of love that my entire body is bursting with it.
