by K. L. Kreig
“Everything okay?” I ask, nervous even though I saw the two of them hugging.
She turns thoughtful. “It is.”
“Will you tell me about it sometime?”
She nods. “Yes.”
My entire demeanor lightens considerably and I take a full, deep breath. We’re going to make it. “You’re not leaving. Not even to get your things. You know that, right?”
Her gaze drops to the forgotten envelope between us, then crawls back up to my face. She blinks a few times in quick succession, the smile on her mouth evening out. “I want you to take it back.”
It takes me a second or two to understand what she means but when I realize she’s talking about the money, not my profession, I laugh. Loud and boisterous. She’s going to be the death of me.
“I mean it, Shaw.” Her tone is harder now. No nonsense.
Oh, Willow.
My smile is so big my face hurts.
Game over, sweetheart.
I press her lower half to mine until she can’t miss what her cheeky attitude does to me. “Know what I want, beautiful?” I drop my head, our noses nearly touching. “I want your breasts heavy, your pussy drenched, and your heart knocking violently against your ribs when I unbutton those sexy-as-sin jeans.”
I glide my palm over the curve of her supple ass, my fingertips grazing between her cheeks. Her eyelids flutter. The rise and fall of her chest quickens.
Oh yes, that’s it.
“I want your nerves awakened, your flesh tingling, and your blood to rush while I finger-fuck you to orgasm against the door in about six seconds.” Not giving her a chance to respond, I pull her inside. Slamming the door shut, I push her back against it, take her face in my hands, and look straight into already lusty eyes.
“And I want every muscle of yours quivering with unchained desire by the time I finally sink slowly inside the home you’ve denied me for four long fucking weeks now.”
I slant my mouth over hers and take. I drive my tongue between lips that cling to mine, though not only in desire. She’s brawling, battling. Vying for the win. Fat chance, that. She’s back under my tutelage now. My safekeeping.
My rules, my whims.
“Shaw, I’m serious,” she groans, breaking our kiss. Her hands sneak between us, the paper in her fist crinkling. She tries elbowing me. Pathetically ineffective.
I shackle her wrists between one hand and shove them over her head. The envelope falls to the ground beside us. “I want you naked, Willow. I want you wet and bent over, legs spread wide so I can see just how fucking much you missed me.” I exhale every word of this between harsh nips up her neck, along her jaw. Jesus, I’m so hard it hurts and every ragged pant of hers wraps its way around my cock twice, driving me closer to losing my load prematurely.
“Stop.”
It’s the same plea she made the first time I had her against this door, only her hips follow the dance of my fingers beautifully this time, belying her protest, so I don’t stop. I skim inside her silk panties, over the bareness of her smooth, warm flesh. A pained whimper escapes her throat when I run a finger right down her center.
Her clit is already firm and pulsing and she’s so wet. So fucking wet. A fantasy, alive and breathing in my house.
I push one finger inside, then two. Her need drips onto my palm. It’s nirvana, the way she reacts to me.
“You sure that’s what you want, Goldilocks?”
“I’m not letting you”—pant, pant—“take care of me and my”—pant—”momma.”
I know exactly why she’s full of piss and pride but what she obviously doesn’t know is that I had little to do with the five mil now sitting in her account.
It’s not my money. It’s hers and her mother’s.
All I did was help right a wrong.
“That money belongs to you,” I tell her firmly.
The smooth patch I’m seeking comes into focus, causing her pussy to clamp and her pelvis to kick forward. Her fingers curl, manicured nails deliciously cutting into the webbing connecting my thumb and forefinger.
Her eyes glaze and her neck relaxes. She lets her head fall back to the door. I watch the reins on her mulish will gracefully slip while I pump in and out, reveling in the feel of her squeezing me like a boa constrictor. She’s so tight and so hot and so damn wet I want to strip her and fuck her where we stand until my legs won’t hold us up.
But I need to watch her come once first. I crave it.
“I don’t want your stupid money.” Her voice is rough, and her hips roll with every plunge inside her honeyed channel. My thumb rotates repeatedly over the nub that will set her off like the Fourth of July in about ten seconds.
She’s close.
So damn close.
I trap her in my gaze and don’t let go. And I don’t address her comment either. “Jesus, I’ve missed the feel of you, the smell of your need, the fucking taste of your nipples, the sweetness of your release.”
“I’m not taking—” Ecstasy gets the best of her. Her lids close. “God, Shaw.”
Yeah, that’s it, baby. Submit.
“Did you get yourself off thinking about me, Willow?” The thought drives me wild.
Her back bows, her neck arches.
“Did you cry my name? Beg for my cock when your climax was empty and unfulfilling?”
Her mouth falls open.
“Did your soul ache for mine every fucking second of every fucking day?”
Her eyes pop open. Grab me. Dive straight into my core.
“Because mine did, Goldilocks. Mine has bled for yours until it bled dry. You are mine, Willow Blackwell. Mine. You hear me?” I set my cheek to hers and whisper, “Now come for me, beautiful. Come hard and long and loud enough to piss off the neighbors.”
My good girl does as she’s told. That pussy strangles my fingers sweetly as she lets herself go. She convulses and weeps and is so goddamn radiant it brings tears to my eyes.
I sweep her limp, still-clothed body into my arms with ease and carry her through the house. She weaves her hands through my short hair, pressing kisses to the base of my throat.
I’m one walking mass of pure, male need. I want to glut myself on her for a straight month.
Eat her. Fuck her. Feed her. Pet her. Bathe her. Hold her. Own her. Love her.
“We should talk.”
“We will,” I assure her softly. I’m single-minded. “But I need to be inside you and I can’t wait another second.”
I take her to the chair. The one I envision her pressed over. Stretched over. Impregnating her in. I’m obsessed with her and that goddamn chair.
I set her on her feet and begin removing her clothes but she bats my hands away.
“Let me,” she says.
I’m wound up tighter than a top, ready to come unglued if I’m not making love to her in the next minute. Only I see she needs this, so I reluctantly take a step back to give her some space.
Smiling softly, she sheds her yellow jacket and throws it to the side. I expect her to continue undressing but she steps into me instead. Eyes fastened to mine, she grabs the hem of my maroon Henley and drags it slowly up my body. Her fingers skim over my ribs. Her thumbs intentionally nick the edges of my nipples, hardening them instantly.
The tease.
Smirking, I lift my arms and let her divest me of it.
“I missed you,” I say, my voice muted and scratchy. I run a finger along her jaw, still not believing she’s here. “I missed you so much, Willow.”
Her eyes, they melt. “I missed you, too.”
“You’re not leaving.” She pops the buttons on my jeans. I stop her, gently circling her wrist. “You’re staying, understand?”
“Always so bossy.”
Jesus. That brassy smile renders me useless every time.
“Always testing me,” I retort.
Rising on her tiptoes, her lips whisper against mine. “But it turns you on, doesn’t it?”
“Fucking right it does.”
I flatten her hand to my stomach and guide her inside my boxer briefs to show her exactly how hard and thick her saucy mouth makes me. Helping her palm my cock at the base, she squeezes hard, and fuck me, nothing has ever felt so damn good. I can’t keep my head up straight.
Eyes shut, head back, every other sense is magnified by ten.
The warmth of her skin on mine.
Her lips traveling over my chest, her breathing labored.
The thundering of my heart inside my chest cavity.
The agonizing tightening of my balls.
It’s torture. Sweet, sweet fucking torture.
She slides up my shaft leisurely and deliberate, and when her thumb sweeps over my weeping head, my whole body shudders. The buzzing at the base of my spine gathers incredible speed and every ounce of control I’ve been exercising disintegrates in a flash of voracious hunger.
I’m going to come and I’ll be damned if it’s going to be because of one swipe up my dick. When I explode, it’s going to be deep inside her womb where I belong.
I shove my pants and underwear down my legs. She tears her blouse off. Her jeans are gone next. I see a glimpse of a pale blue bra before it’s gone. I snap her panties clean from her hips.
Our movements are rushed and frenzied. I grab her by the back of the neck and smash my greedy mouth to hers, lifting her up and over my cock at the same time with my free arm. The feel of her taut nipples scraping my chest is utter bliss.
I coat myself with the remnants of her orgasm, then not wasting another second, I slam my hips forward and drive my aching cock inside the only place it was meant to be.
“Jesus, fuck.” I suck in a sharp breath and go to war with my dick, ready to release. “God, Willow. Being sheathed inside this pussy is like nothing else.” A broken moan is her only reply.
Forget the chair. I won’t make it five seconds if I have her on top of me. Bending my knees, I lower us to the plush rug below, the first place I made love to her. But this time I don’t restrain her.
I want her hands to roam, her eyes to roll. I want her mouth all over me, sucking, biting. I want her wild and feverish.
Bracing on my forearms, I twine my hands in her soft hair. Her legs wind around my back. I start to slide in and out, gritting my teeth against the tingles racing up my legs.
“You’re moving in,” I announce, laying kisses along the creamy expanse of her delicate throat.
“That sounds like an order,” she breathes, clamping those hot, silken walls around me with purpose. Her nails scrape my back. I pinch a beaded nipple, hard, before taking it in my mouth to bite down even harder.
Her gasp is a familiar song I’ve missed listening to.
“You’re marrying me.” My hips move faster, my control unraveling at the speed of sound.
“I don’t like being told what to do.”
Oh, Willow. Willow, Willow, Willow.
Such a little liar.
I felt that smile against my cheek.
“We’re having four kids. All boys.”
She sucks my neck so hard I may have a hickey. I start fucking her in earnest now. She grabs my ass, fingers flexing in time to each uneven thrust.
“Three. Two girls and a boy,” she counters on ragged breaths.
Palming her ass cheeks, I push her pelvis toward the ceiling and rise on my haunches. Our gazes, heavy and thick with this inconceivable love, stick to each other.
“You can have whatever you want, Willow. Anything. Name it.”
Happiness radiates from her. Actual beams of it pour from her eyes. I’ve never witnessed her like this. If I weren’t already madly in love with her, I would have fallen in love with her right at this moment. To see every facet of her so clearly is stupefying.
“I already have everything I want. Right here. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Water builds in her eyes. It slices me up and down.
“Shhh. Baby, don’t cry.” I slow my pace, my need to comfort her overpowering my need to come.
Her fingers fly to my thighs, her grip strong and bruising. “If you stop now I’ll sic Sierra on you.”
Almost a sure way to shrivel a man’s junk, but I don’t let her idle threat affect me in the least. I withdraw almost all the way, then ram back inside so forcefully her breath catches. “You drive a hard bargain, Goldilocks.”
“You taught me well, Drive By.”
I impale her hard, rough, completely, through moans and breathless entreaties. She comes first, pulling me close behind. I can’t take my eyes from her, even through the rip-roaring intensity of my own climax. When I’ve wrung every drop of pleasure I can from us both, I collapse on top of her, our slick skin pasting us together.
Minutes later, our breaths caught and the edge taken off, I snag a pillow and throw from the couch and get us settled. I don’t bother to clean us up because in less than ten minutes I plan to have her bent over that chair, ass glowing red from the spanking she’s going to get for not only staying away from me but for the dangerous situation she put herself in with Paul Graber. I’ve never been more grateful for Noah than when I found out about the events of that night and how he protected her.
“This is a little like déjà vu, huh?” she says, staring at the fire I kicked on.
“It is,” I agree, fingering the goose bumps on her arm. Except now I can admit I’m in love with her. I grip her chin between my fingers and tip it up until her eyes lock on me. “The money is from your father’s life insurance policy. It’s yours.”
She pops up, the blanket covering her incredibly sexy and very naked body slipping down. Her pretty pink nipples immediately tighten to points that beg for my teeth. I fight the urge to tweak one. Fuck, my restraint is incredible.
“What do you mean it’s from my father’s life insurance policy? I told you they wouldn’t pay because…” A pause. The pieces are clicking together but I see she’s still confused. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s quite a process to get the cause of death changed on a death certificate.”
“You—What?” She shakes her head in disbelief.
I sit and pull her into my lap, not wanting to have this conversation separated. She wraps her legs around my waist, her pussy snug and tight to my groin. My dick is already readying for round two when I feel our combined fluids drip on me.
“The coroner changed the cause of death from suicide to accident and someone at Aurora worked with the life insurance company to make sure the claim was expedited. The only thing missing was your account number but Millie was kind enough to give that to me.”
She cocks her head. “Millie? You saw Millie?”
“Yes,” I tell her simply.
“You…? Millie gave you my bank information?” The incredulity in her voice makes me laugh.
“What can I say?” I shrug. “I’m pretty persuasive. I spent a couple of hours with your mother as well. She has quite a sense of humor.”
“You did?”
“Of course. She’s important to you, Willow. What’s important to you is important to me.”
It’s a few beats before she smiles. Her shoulders drop, relieved. “Is this real?”
I run a few strands of her hair through my fingers. “As real as it gets.”
I know my woman. Her pride is worth as much as her stubbornness. Not that I wouldn’t have given her every cent I own but after she returned the two-fifty, I knew the financial burden would return with a vengeance. I’m just glad she’ll never have to worry about money again.
“His policy was worth five million dollars? Really?”
She’s having a hard time with this.
“Two point five, actually, but…an accidental death pays double.”
That brilliant smile falls away. I stroke her bottom lip and lean in to press a kiss to it. No matter how much time goes by, this will always be a bitter pill to swallow.
“So you see, the money is yours.”
And that’s not all. I want to tell her she’l
l be rich beyond her wildest dreams when Aurora starts production on her father’s patented drug six months from now, but I have a feeling she can only handle one thing at a time. I’ll save that news for another day.
“I’m still confused. I mean the coroner wouldn’t just take your word for it. Would he?”
She wiggles around. I harden to full mast. I clamp my hands on her hips to hold her still or she’ll be riding me instead of getting answers.
“No. It wasn’t quite that easy. I accompanied two of the girls involved that night to the police station so they could tell their story and the police report could be augmented.”
I swear her eyebrows are stuck together. So cute.
“Who?”
“Lia Melborne, the one Noah and I visited in North Carolina, along with Annabelle.” When I originally approached Lia about it, I wasn’t sure she would agree, but the years of guilt over keeping this secret had eaten her up. She jumped at the chance to right this wrong.
“But I thought Annabelle didn’t remember anything?”
“Not about the accident, no, but she remembers enough about earlier in the evening. Lia corroborated that story and filled in the blanks.”
I see the questions she has fly by at a hundred miles an hour.
“They went to the police? Are they in trouble?”
“No, baby. It was an accident. No charges will be pressed against either of them.”
“Thank God,” she replies. “How is she doing? Annabelle?”
I tuck a few hairs behind her ear, relishing in the softness of her skin. I can’t stop touching her. “She’s leaving for Colorado after Thanksgiving for three months of therapy. It was her idea.”
She breathes in slow then blows it out. I try not to get distracted by the way her breasts just brushed my chest. “I’m glad. I hope it will help her.”
“Me too.”
She shivers and I reach for the blanket to drape it over her shoulders. My gaze drops to her throat where that pendant always lies in the hollow. Only…it’s noticeably absent. It’s the first time I’ve seen her without it in four months.
Is it wrong I want to pound my chest in victory?
It is.
Right?
Out of habit she touches the empty space and smiles this smile that tells me she knows what I’m thinking. I can’t help but smile a smile that says I don’t give a fuck. You’re mine. Only mine.