“Oh my gosh” slipped out like a secret.
“I know I’m putting you through hell, Wills, lying to your family, taking you off the market for the next two weeks, but I’m really glad you’re with me.”
“This was my choice.” She looked at the playlist again. “I thought you were just messing with me all those times you texted.”
“So did I,” he admitted.
She grabbed his hand, as if she needed it for stability. Hold me, baby. Hold on tight.
“Z,” she whispered, emotions warring in her eyes. “I’m having trouble defining the line between real and fake.”
He cradled her warm, soft face in his hands, the scent of wine and sweet, luscious Willow drawing him closer. Desire throbbed through his veins, his hands shook with the anticipation of finally touching her again, and he didn’t even try to restrain himself any longer. “Then let’s not define it.”
She leaned forward, but the second before their lips touched, he tangled his hand in her hair, holding their kiss at bay.
“This time I make the rules,” he said too harshly, but he was half a second away from tearing off her clothes and taking all of her, and there was no way in hell he would deny himself the chance to feel.
She swallowed hard, clutching his arms so tight her nails carved half-moons into his skin, and sweet Jesus, it felt good.
“This time we feel,” he demanded. “We feel as much and as hard as we want. And we don’t worry about anyone else. Anything else. Got it?”
She was breathing so hard, “Yes,” came out as a plea.
He dragged his eyes down the length of her body, earning a shuddering inhalation, and in that moment his internal fire changed to an inferno; his desire turned greedy and dark. “Tonight you’re mine, Willow.”
He waited a beat to see if she changed her mind, but she was right there with him, so he pushed a little harder. “From this moment on, baby”—he brushed his lips over her cheek, and her breathing hitched—“I’m yours.”
ZANE’S MOUTH CAME down over Willow’s slowly, in complete control. God, she loved that about him. He never lost his cool. She gave herself over to their kiss, to his possession, no longer surprised that she wanted him so desperately. Their mouths moved in perfect sync. Intense and deep and so very real she could barely breathe. He lowered her to the bed, the weight of his hard body as intoxicating as a bottle of whiskey. This was how it had happened last time. They’d come together as if it were the only place they were ever meant to be. She drank in the taste of his mouth, disappeared into his scent, surrendered to the seduction of his hands moving over her skin like he owned her. He did own her. He always had.
His mouth moved down her neck, skipping over her breasts, and claimed the tender skin around her navel. She ground her hips, tugging his shirt up until he finally tore it off, revealing all his glorious planes of flesh, hers for the taking. He worked off her shoes and then removed his own. He watched her intently, electricity sparking between them as she wriggled out of her jeans and panties. Drunk-on-Zane Willow had serious game, obliterating the side of herself that usually held her back.
She eyed his jeans. “Off.”
Salivating to taste him, aching to touch him, she watched as he visually devoured her. His piercing stare made her tremble and wet in anticipation of finally—God, finally—getting another chance at experiencing what she’d spent years searching for, the feelings he’d given her when she was too young to appreciate how good it had been, too stupid to realize that not every man possessed the capability to make her heart and body sing. She, too, had become an actress, lying about amazing orgasms and how men made her feel, when each and every time they’d paled in comparison to Zane. She tore her shirt over her head, and he breathed harder. Holy cow, she loved that. She reached behind her to unhook her bra.
“Willow,” he practically growled. “You don’t have to.”
He was the only man who had ever really known her, who understood what it meant for her to bare her breasts. The others had never deserved that trust, and she’d never given it to them. “I want to.”
She unhooked the clasp, and her breasts fell hot and heavy against her skin. He inhaled a long, uneven breath that made her feel like she’d given him a magnificent gift.
“Sweetheart.”
The word was so full of emotions she felt it like a caress. He stripped off his briefs, and she got her first look at another part of him that had ruined her for anyone else. She didn’t think as she sank down to her knees and took him in her mouth, earning a low, heady groan, spurred on by the raging fire in his eyes as he pumped his hips. She had dreamed about what this might be like, loving him with her mouth, but nothing could have prepared her for the overwhelming need for more. She wanted to feel him inside her, to be wrapped in his arms until she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. She wanted to disappear into them.
He must have sensed her desires. He came down to his knees in front of her, his gaze boring straight to her soul. “I’ve waited so long to touch you.”
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only guide his hand to her breast, gasping with sweet agony at the feel of his rough palms loving the parts of her she’d spent her life hating. He kissed her neck, her shoulder, inciting sparks beneath her skin. She leaned forward, wanting him to take more of her, but he was in no hurry, caressing her breasts, dragging his tongue along the swell of each one torturously slowly. Taking one nipple between his finger and thumb, he lowered his mouth to the other, teasing over the peak and blowing warm air on the wetness he’d left behind.
She arched against him, and he moved to her other breast. “Zane—”
She was ready to beg and plead for him to give her more as he continued the agonizing tease, dragging his tongue around her nipple, over the peak, until she was barely breathing. Her hips began moving in time to his talented tongue, currently lavishing her other breast with the same tantalizing attention. As he lifted her breast to his lips, he kissed the tingling peak, leaving her panting and barely breathing at once.
“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispered, pinning her in place with a hungry stare as one hand moved down her belly to the juncture of her thighs. He pressed one long finger firmly between her swollen lips, and stilled. She grabbed his arm, rocked against that thick digit, urging him to give her what she so desperately needed. A gratified grin lifted his lips.
“You’re my heaven, Willow,” he whispered, and kissed her slow and deep until her legs shook.
Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, he drew back just enough to slide his tongue along her lower lip, teasing her as she leaned forward, aching for more rough kisses. He kissed the corner of her lips, then slicked his tongue over the bow of her upper lip, and she imagined his mouth between her legs. A moan escaped, and he dipped his tongue inside her mouth, kissing her so softly she whimpered. Even on her knees, she feared she might crumble to pieces, and gripped him tighter.
His thumb moved in slow circles over her sweetest spot, and she closed her eyes, hypnotized by his touch. Tremors built in her thighs, rising in her chest and vibrating beneath her skin, building pressure of staggering proportions. His mouth left hers, and as she opened her eyes, his lips closed over her breast at the same moment his fingers entered her, lighting thunderous explosions inside her. He sucked her breast harder, and she clutched his head, unwilling to let his mouth release her despite the needlelike darts shooting from her nipple to her undulating center. Just when she thought she’d lose her mind, he tore his mouth from her breast and sealed his teeth over her neck. She cried out with the exquisite pain and all-consuming pleasure as her orgasm crashed over her, as turbulent as a riptide. Her knees gave out, and she collapsed against him.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispered.
He lowered her trembling body to the bed, gazing down at her with a look so unfamiliar it nearly stopped her heart. She felt him shaking, and when he asked, “Still with me?” it was all she cou
ld do to nod.
He kissed her tenderly at first, then urgently and exploringly. Passion pounded through her veins, blood rushed through her ears, and when he moved down her body and brought his mouth to her sex, she thought she might pass out from the sheer pleasure radiating through her. He brought her right up to the peak, holding her there so long she was sure she’d stopped breathing, and then she shattered into a million pieces, time and time again, until her body went limp. When he reached for his wallet and tore open the little square package with his teeth, she feared she had no energy left. But as he sheathed his hard length, her body awakened again, pulsing and quivering with anticipation.
She felt the broad head of his cock at her entrance, his powerful thighs nestled between hers. He came down over her, and she rose to meet him, crushing her mouth to his and kissing him like she needed him to breathe. And at that moment, she did. Maybe she always had.
“Look at me, baby,” he said into the kiss.
Entranced by his words and the emotions in his eyes, she tried to hold his gaze, but as he entered her, the pleasure was too intense. He unraveled her, inch by glorious inch, and as emotions she’d been carrying for years flooded her, her eyes fluttered closed.
He touched his cheek to hers, whispering as he buried himself deeper inside her, “Jesus, I’ve missed you.”
His arms pushed beneath her, cradling her body against his, until even air couldn’t fit between them. Their mouths came together as they began to move, and he kissed her so deeply, so lovingly, years of pent-up emotions came rushing forward. Her legs wound around his waist. He penetrated deeper, took her rougher. She clawed at his back, pleas streaming from her lips. She felt free for the first time in forever, and when he buried his face in her neck and said, “Come with me, baby,” there was no holding back.
“Willow, Willow, Willow,” he ground out as they found their mutual release, and she knew her name would never sound the same again.
CHAPTER NINE
ZANE LAY ON his back beside Willow as they came down from the explosive pleasures of their lovemaking. He rid himself of the condom, then pulled her close again.
“Jesus, Wills. That was even better than I remembered, and I remembered it as pretty damn amazing.”
She pushed up on her elbow. Her golden hair spilled over her breasts, tickling his chest. “I should hope it’s better. We were kids. What did we know back then?” She brushed her fingers over his chest hair. “Well, you knew what you were doing, but I was totally lost.”
He grimaced against what he’d led her to believe. “You weren’t lost. You knew exactly what you wanted and you’d planned it to the nth degree, from your fluttering lashes while you convinced me to believe your ridiculous notion that we wouldn’t feel a damn thing.”
Her brows knitted as she reached across his chest for the cupcake. Feeling her breasts crushed against him as she scooped frosting onto her finger and sucked it off brought another rush of heat, and he felt himself getting hard again.
“It wasn’t ridiculous. It worked.” She scooped up another heap of frosting.
“If you put that finger in your mouth, I can’t be held responsible for the outcome.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she swirled her tongue over the frosting.
“Willow,” he warned, gripping her arms.
She closed her lips around her finger with a challenging look in her eyes. “Mm.”
In one swift move she was beneath him, laughing as he reached for his wallet again.
“How many of those do you carry?” She rose and kissed his chest.
“Stocked up before I met you at the resort. Just in case.”
She gasped and laughed at once. “You pig. You knew we’d end up having sex!”
He eyed her as he tore open the package. “Hoped.”
“Whatever.” She was still smiling.
He held the little square packet out. “You don’t want this?”
She trapped her lower lip between her teeth, but her unstoppable smile gave away the truth. Still, he needed to hear it from her. He was already in too deep. His emotions hadn’t just gotten away from him; they’d obliterated everything except what he felt for Willow.
“Tell me, Wills, because if the game stops here, I need to know. I meant what I said about us.” He lowered his body over hers, kissing the edges of her lips. “I want to feel.” He nipped at her jaw, feeling her arch up beneath him. “I want to touch.” He slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her so intensely it should be criminal. “I want you, baby.”
“Me, too.” She smiled up at him. “I just wish I was the one who had tricked you into this fake relationship.”
He couldn’t hide his surprise.
“What?” she snapped. “I hate that you orchestrated this. It gives you control.”
He rolled off her and onto his back, waving toward his body. “Control me, baby. Every which way you’d like.”
Her eyes flamed, and just as quickly, a lethal calmness washed over them. She eyed the condom, eyed his cock, and licked her beautiful lips again. He loved seeing her set the vixen inside her free, but fuck, she was determined to make him lose his shit. He saw it in her eyes as she straddled him, trapping his erection flat against his abdomen. She laced their hands together on either side of his head and began sliding along his hard length. Her hair tumbled around them, curtaining their faces.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to torture you,” she said with sultry huskiness.
“Sweetheart, you’ve been torturing me for years.” He craned up to capture her mouth, but she drew away with a wicked—and gratified?—smile.
“I have better things in mind for that mouth of yours.” She arched above him, lowering one heavy breast toward his mouth.
Good fucking Lord, you can torture me anytime you please.
Between her breast in his mouth and her slick heat moving hard and quick over his erection, he was going to lose it. She controlled the speed, shifted her breast to give him access to the other, still holding his hands prisoner.
“Baby,” he said as she reached for a condom. “Another minute of that and I’m going to come.”
She sheathed his cock, guided him inside her, and pinned his hands beside his head again. They both moaned as her body swallowed him to the root. She arched back, riding him as adeptly as a rodeo champion, her incredible breasts bouncing just out of reach. Every time he thrust his hips, she stopped moving, her sharp green eyes driving into him. She wanted complete control, and it was killing him to hand over the reins, to allow her to slow her efforts as she climaxed again and again, bringing him to the brink of madness. Just when he didn’t think he could take another second of her tightness pulsing around him, she quickened her pace, releasing his hands and catapulting them both into an earth-shattering release.
Willow collapsed on top of him, trying to catch her breath. “Wow.”
He ran his hands over her slim waist, along the flare of her hips, and gave her ass a smack.
“Hey!” She lifted her eyes to his.
“That’s for torturing me.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Jesus, baby. You blew my mind.”
She made a sleepy sound, snuggling against him.
“Wills, I need to get rid of the condom.”
She whimpered, and he wrapped his arms around her, not wanting to move a muscle, either, but unless they wanted a mess, he needed to deal with this. He shifted out from beneath her, earning another whimpery, moany complaint as he took care of the condom.
He kissed her shoulder again, coming down beside her.
Her eyes popped open. “Skinny-dip?”
He laughed. “I thought you were sleepy.”
“I was, but then I remembered we have the lake to ourselves.” She grabbed a towel from the bag and wrapped it around herself.
He knew a lot of wild women, but there was a huge difference between wild and Willow. She was her own brand of wild. The very best brand.
She peered into one
of the bags. “You didn’t by any chance pick up soap, did you?”
He reached into the bag and tossed her a bar of soap wrapped in pretty tissue paper. “They didn’t have lilac.”
She put it up to her nose, inhaling deeply as she unwrapped it. “Mom’s lavender and chamomile. One of my favorites.”
He grabbed a towel and stepped out of the tent, reaching for her hand. “Come on, sweet cheeks.”
Her eyes dropped to his cock. “Um, don’t you want to put on that towel?”
“Not really.” He grabbed her sandals and set them in front of her. “Better wear these so you don’t hurt your feet.” He shoved his feet in his boots, and she laughed. “What?”
“You’re buck naked and wearing black leather boots. You look like you belong on an X-rated Tumblr page.”
He scoffed. “Not a chance. I’m not stupid enough to let anyone take compromising pics of me.”
The amusement left her eyes, and just as quickly she was smiling again. “I’m going to get a picture of you like that. The perfect blackmail.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Wanna bet? I have no idea how you managed to get me naked and let you do all those dirty things to me,” she said with a taunt in her voice. “You probably drugged the wine or something. A girl needs assurance, and a picture is the perfect way.”
“You have no idea, huh?” He tugged off her towel, and she ran toward the water, shrieking and laughing.
He chased her down the beach, dropping their things in the sand. She kicked off her sandals at the last second and ran into the water, squealing. He tugged off his boots in record time and followed her in. His arm swept around her waist, and he carried her toward the deeper water while she laughed, struggling to be set free.
“You want to blackmail me?”
“Yes!” She laughed harder, turning in his arms and clinging to him like a koala to a tree. Her smile was as radiant as a summer sun. She tightened her legs around his waist, trembling and clinging to the soap. “How did we end up here?”
The Real Thing (Sugar Lake Book 1) Page 11