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“Onyx!” Willow grunted. “Fuck…ah…so deep. Shit….fucking talk…to me!” she growled between smothering kisses, and fuck, I wouldn’t be able to handle shutting her up because my jerking hips just wanted to move faster.
This pounding pace was sensational, awakening a different level of pleasure at the peak of my rough play. I’d never fucked Willow this hard, but I couldn’t stop myself, even with the thought of potentially hurting her.
I knew deep down that she could handle it, and if she did tell me to stop, I’d find every way of doing exactly that.
“He can’t have you.” The words left my mouth without me fully processing what was really happening. I wanted to sort out my thoughts before speaking, but on this high of lust and power, I couldn’t do it.
I wasn’t made to fucking multitask like this.
To think, fuck, and try to filter out what I really wanted to say?Fuck no.
"You’ve been mine for as long as I can remember. My friend, my lover, my mate. He just comes into my life after so many fucking years and thinks he can just take you? Thinks you’re his because of fucking circumstances?!” My anger was evident, and I couldn’t tame it in the slightest.
It needed an outlet, and that is what all of this was: a need to escape. An excuse to reveal my burning thoughts that had consumed those precious hours of sleep.
“We’ve been through everything together. The ups, the fucking downs. Every…fucking…thing! He won’t take you away. He won’t flaunt his skill and power and use it against me,” I growled and held her hips as I leaned back and changed my angle then moved forward abruptly.
“Ah. Ah. Shit. Onyx…slower,” she pleaded with her legs literally in the air as I wildly pounded into her. I wanted to go slow, somewhere in the realms of this spiraling hate, but it wouldn’t happen.
I was too fucking gone.
“Everyone’s waltzing into what I vowed would be mine. My best fucking friend. My best fucking woman. My best fucking mate. I fucking swear you’re going to be my best fucking wife.” The words just kept flowing. “My fucking world. The owner of my fucking soul, and I swear you’re going to be the fucking mother to my damn babies, you hear?!”
So much anger, so much anguish, and fuck. Now I was just crying like a lost boy.
“Willow Alundra Phoenix is mine! My fucking everything.”That was exactly the fucking truth, and maybe that was why it left me no choice but to sink as deeply as I could and send us both into a tumbling whirlpool of ecstasy.
We came as one, our body lost in the storm of euphoria, and I’d never felt so damn satisfied.
So fucking proud.
I realized this was what I always struggled with: saying what needed to be said, expressing what was killing me slowly until I felt so fucking hopeless that it was no different from walking into a pool of death.
My love for Willow was unmeasurable, and I didn’t know how to comprehend it or even acknowledge it with words. My brain couldn’t possibly process it that way. I couldn’t write fancy poems or create beautiful art.
I needed to do it the only way I could tell her. In a language only she understood, and that was what this all was.
Sex is our way of communicating with one another. It helps us share our darkest and most vulnerable secrets in hopes the other will not only understand but feel the ultimate truth in our words and actions.
I collapsed on top of her, my body shaking while I tried to just breathe. I needed to get off her, but I couldn’t even twitch. I was frightened to move- to be pushed away and abandoned like when I was but a boy in this cruel fucking world.
Was that why I held such bitter anger against Loki and his sudden arrival into my life? Into my world that was beginning to come together with a pack I was getting used to? Did it feel like he was entering the protective territory that I’d just claimed as my own? It had to be something along those lines because this overwhelming emotion was making me feel as if I’d already lost, but I couldn’t accept that.
I had to be a victor after all this.
"You always keep everything in until it destroys you from the inside out.”The quiet set of words hummed through my mind, and I knew without a doubt it was Willow.
I was waiting for her judgment, for those words of scrutiny that would condemn my roughness and belittle my immaturity, but there were her arms. Her hands smoothed along the indents of her nails against my flesh before her arms wrapped around my neck and further pushed me against her.
“My silly bulky fucker,”she began.“If you don’t propose to me first, I don’t want this.”
I didn’t know why, but those words made me laugh.
And my laughter turned into deep sobs as I fucking lost it.
She didn’t even need to try to understand me. She just got it, like she always got everything when it came to how I fucking worked. She grasped the flow of my mental circuits, deciphered my orbit and the madness that came with it, and even in these heightened bursts of fury and utter confusion, she always understood what I was desperate for her to understand.
She just got me.
