Chloe
Once I flopped down on the bed in my hotel room, I found it nearly impossible to move again.
Exhaustion washed over me like it never had before, humming in every bone and muscle of my body. My legs and feet ached, my eyelids were too heavy to peel open. I barely had the energy to text the cat sitter and watch the adorable videos she had sent of my three rascals getting into trouble like always.
And yet, I wore the biggest smile.
There were no words for what an amazing day it had been.
And while Will had almost made me burst into tears with what he did for me at the boutique, what replayed in my mind most were images of Ava. I smiled wider and wider as I remembered her squeals of laughter, how she ran to each character we found to fill her autograph book, the way her eyes grew round and mesmerized in each show and on every single ride, how she threw her arms up and screamed — fearlessly — on every rollercoaster she was tall enough to ride.
It was the most perfect day, one I knew she’d never forget.
I’d sent a few pictures throughout the day to the group text with my mom and grandmother. They hadn’t met Ava yet, but I hoped one day they would. I also hoped they’d see from the pictures that I was doing my job, that I was safe, that Will wasn’t a threat the way they thought he was.
Grandma commented on how adorable Ava was, and Mom said she liked my princess look — though I didn’t miss her pursed lips when she said it. Maybe the fact that they hadn’t dressed me specifically like any of the Disney princesses made a slight difference, but she still didn’t look thrilled.
They both begged me to come visit soon before the call ended, which I promised I would.
I groaned when my phone pinged, thinking it was them and hoping like hell they wouldn’t ask if I had time for a phone call. But when I looked at my phone, a tired smile crept over my face at the text from Maven.
Maven: I just saw a photo of Will Perry on Instagram.
Livia: … okay?
Maven: AT DISNEY WORLD
Maven: WITH HIS DAUGHTER
Maven: AND HIS CHEF
Maven: AND HIS NANNY *wide eyes emoji*
Livia: Daddy P at Disney World?! This can only be the work of a certain teacher we know.
Grace: I love y’all, but it’s not even six AM where I am. Muting you until I’m a human later today and I’ll catch up. *kiss emoji*
I chuckled, typing out my response.
Me: Believe it or not — this was his idea.
Maven: My jaw is on the floor. Did he have fun?
Me: Would I know if he did?
Livia: LOL grumpy ass goalie. I bet Ava had a blast, though.
I sent through some pictures, which got a flurry of responses that made me glad Grace had turned her notifications off. Otherwise, no way would she be able to get back to sleep.
Maven: It’s been too long since we’ve seen you. I think we should plan a date.
Livia: Yeah, I need an update about this hottie at your school.
Maven: Noah!
Me: Not really much to tell…
Maven: I call bullshit. The way you looked in the photos I saw on Instagram today? You were glowing.
Livia: Ah, it’s that freshly fucked look.
I swallowed, typing and deleting about a dozen things.
What the hell did I say to that?
Maven: I’m telling Vince we’re doing a barbecue. We’ll do it at Will’s, since we all know he’ll find an excuse not to come if it’s anywhere else.
Me: Arushi and I can help with this ambush. I’ll text you when we’re back home.
Livia: Love it. Night, babes!
I let my phone fall to the side, smiling up at the ceiling as exhaustion made it feel like I was sinking farther into the bed.
I had friends.
I had friends who thought to text me, who wanted to make plans to see me.
And not just the girls, but Arushi, too. I’d barely had time to work on any of my puzzles or crafts lately, between hanging out with Chef, spending time with Ava, texting the girls, and getting… lessons from Will.
Who even was I?
Eventually, I managed to peel myself off my bed, rolling over until my feet hit the floor. I groaned when I stretched my toes on the carpet, and then carried myself step by painful step to the bathroom. My fingers worked the seashell clip in my hair until it came loose, my hair spilling free, and I rubbed the spot with a content sigh.
My reflection was one I didn’t recognize, not just because I was still in the princess gown with glitter and a full face of makeup, but because something had shifted in me on this magical day, too.
I couldn’t name it, but I could feel it.
I was unfastening the pearl earrings the boutique had provided me when a knock sounded on my door.
Will stood on the other side of it, his face as worn and tired as mine and a bottle of champagne in his fist.
Instantly, my heart jumped into my throat.
“Hi,” I said more breathlessly than I meant to, my body already coming alive just at his presence.
“Hi,” he echoed. “May I?”
He gestured toward the open door between us, and I slid to the side so he could let himself in.
Unlike me, he’d already changed, his hair drying in messy waves and the fresh scent of his shower gel meeting my nose as he passed by. He had on light gray joggers and a black Ospreys t-shirt that was made for Gasparilla weekend.
He wasn’t wearing shoes.
And I internally rolled my eyes at myself, because once again, I was drooling over this man’s feet.
“Ava asleep?” I guessed. She and Will were staying in the room right next to mine, and Chef in the room on the other side of that.
“She begged for a sleepover in Arushi’s room. Pretty sure they both knocked out before I even finished my shower,” Will confirmed. “I found us some champagne,” he said once I let the door shut behind us.
I walked toward the bathroom again while he flopped down in the swivel chair at the desk that was piled high with the random things I’d strewn out of my suitcase. My heart was beating in my ears as I tried to figure out this confusing man.
He’d set all these boundaries, all these rules… and yet today, we’d talked and talked. He’d found a way to make one of my childhood dreams come true, for fuck’s sake.
How was I supposed to figure him out?
“Us?” I asked as I unfastened my necklace and set it next to the earrings. “You don’t drink.”
“I don’t drink often,” he corrected. “But I’m in the presence of a princess. Feels like the perfect time to make an exception.”
I snorted on a smile, reaching behind me for the zipper of the dress. Except it was harder than I thought to grasp. The Fairy Godmothers had helped me dress, and therefore, I hadn’t realized I’d have to twist my arms and elbows in the most unnatural ways to try to reach the zipper at the top of my neck.
I strained a bit too hard in my attempt and winced, but managed to grab the zipper and pull it down a couple inches. When it reached the middle of my shoulder blades, I lost it again, and had to switch positions to reach for it from the bottom, instead.
“Jesus Christ,” Will muttered, standing and crossing the room in long strides. “Let me do that before you break yourself.”
“I’ve got it.”
“I’m not doubting you do, but it might be easier if you just let me.” He paused when his fingers found the zipper, his eyes on mine in the mirror as he arched one beautiful brow. “Unless you’re too independent to accept help from a measly man?”
I elbowed him, which earned me a grunt that almost sounded like a laugh.
The moment he slid the zipper down my spine, though, all humor left me in a little gasp. I sucked in air and held it like my last breath as his warm knuckles skated from my shoulders all the way down to my hips. That zipper didn’t need to move as slowly as he dragged it, but he seemed to be in no rush, seemed to be savoring every centimeter of that trail.
When I looked at him in the mirror, it was in time to watch his throat constrict.
And then he released me.
“There,” he said. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“I think my feminist card has been revoked, actually.”
Will shook his head, and then surprised me with a playful slap of my ass that made me yelp and drop my jaw in his direction. He just smirked and leaned around me, plucking the plastic-wrapped bathroom cups from where they sat by the mirror before he turned and made his way back toward the desk.
He popped the bottle of champagne while I dug through my suitcase for the t-shirt and panties I’d brought to sleep in. For a split second, I felt a little embarrassed at the thought of changing with him in the room, of parading about in just my underwear with him here.
But then I remembered he’d had me naked, on my knees, and making me prove to him how wet I was less than a week ago — and any embarrassment left me like the air from a quickly deflating balloon.
“You were great with her today,” Will said as he carefully poured the two cups of champagne. It fizzed like crazy, so he alternated between the two in slow tilts of the bottle. “Ava.”
I shimmied out of the dress, carefully hanging it in my closet like the priceless gem it was before I stripped out of the panties and bra I’d worn all day. Deciding it would be disgusting to sleep like this, I turned on the water for the shower and stepped in.
I noted the way Will’s back tensed a bit when he heard the sound, but he didn’t turn around.
“Do you want me to leave and let you get changed?” he asked.
“Like you haven’t seen me naked,” I shot back, and then I stepped into the shower. “Just taking a quick one. Anyway, what do you mean I was good with her?” I asked, speaking loud over the water. “Did you not see the way she looked at you all day? I think you just secured father of the year.”
Will didn’t answer — or if he did, I didn’t hear him. I quickly washed my body and my hair before climbing out of the shower and toweling off. I’d left my t-shirt and panties on the bathroom counter, and I slipped them on with a sigh before making my way to where Will sat at the desk.
He was watching me with his jaw tight, the little muscle in his cheek flexing as I strode over to him and snatched the cup of champagne his hand wasn’t nearly folding in two with its vise grip.
“Thank you for this,” I said, tilting it to my lips. The bubbles were light and refreshing, and combined with how I felt after a hot shower, I couldn’t help but hum my delight.
Will was just staring at me, subtly shaking his head. “Fucking hell, woman.”
“What?”
“Don’t what me,” he growled. “You just paraded your beautiful, wet, naked ass in front of me, and then the only thing you cover it with is this?” he asked, tugging at the hem of my thin, oversized t-shirt.
“I have panties on, too,” I argued.
“Not for long, you don’t.”
Heat rushed along my neck as Will set his champagne to the side — which I was fairly certain he’d barely touched — and then his hands were on my hips, a needy intake of air rumbling through his throat as his fingers fisted in the fabric of my shirt and he pinned me against the desk.
“That so?” I asked, and I wished I sounded like a confident little tease, but the words came out breathy and light. “Because I was kind of thinking I’d have this glass of champagne and go to bed.”
“Mm,” Will mused, running the tip of his nose along my neck as I struggled to hold onto the cup of champagne in my hand, my eyes fluttering closed, neck arching to give him better access. “Tired?”
“Exhausted.”
“Too exhausted for another lesson?”
His words rumbled right below my ear, and when he nipped at my earlobe, a wave of goosebumps shot from that point of contact all the way down to my toes. I couldn’t hide how my body reacted to him, how my nipples hardened into peaks and my legs widened enough to let him slip his thigh between them.
I tilted my chin toward him, our lips hovering less than an inch apart. It was as if he were a magnet and I was a flimsy piece of metal, because I lurched toward him, lips on track for his, a desperate need to kiss him filling me in a way I couldn’t ignore. I wanted to taste the sweet bubbles on his tongue, wanted to know what it would feel like dancing with mine.
I somehow managed to stop myself just before we made contact, and I rolled my lips together, swallowing. “What did you have in mind?”
He was so close, I couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t see his eyes clearly. But I could see his mouth, the way his lips parted, how his breath was as shaky as mine.
“Other than you, nothing much.”
He dropped his mouth, narrowly missing mine as he kissed and licked along my chin, down the column of my neck and across my collarbone. I arched and moaned and gave up on trying to hold my champagne, setting it on the desk and sliding it out of reach so I wouldn’t knock it over.
“Tell me what you want to learn,” he urged, fisting my t-shirt in his hands.
My brain was shooting blanks.
I blinked over and over, trying to focus on a single thought past the fact that his tongue was gliding along my skin and his erection was pressing into my stomach.
“Well,” I breathed. “My first time, I… it was missionary,” I said, swallowing. “And then with you, I was on top.”
“And what a vision it was,” he growled against my skin, rocking his hips into me. I gasped at the sensation, at how hard I made him, at how he’d abandoned the champagne and any attempt at conversation the moment he saw my body because I’d undone him.
To have that kind of power…
“Maybe… perhaps we could try…” I reached for the words past the spell he was weaving on me with every touch, but my eyes rolled back, and a moan ripped through me when he palmed my breast through the fine fabric of my t-shirt at the same time his thigh rubbed between mine.
“You want to test out some new positions,” he guessed.
“That,” I confirmed on a breathless nod.
I thought I felt his lips curl against my skin, and then his hands slid roughly up under my t-shirt, piling the fabric on his wrists until I had no choice but to lift my arms and let him strip it overhead.
He groaned when I was bared to him, flinging the shirt somewhere behind him as his eyes raked over me. He plucked at the band of my boy shorts next, but I pressed my hands into his chest and shoved him backward.
“You first. I’m more naked than you.”
He arched a brow. “Then fix it.”
I swallowed, holding my chin high to feign the confidence I wasn’t sure I felt as I stepped forward to meet him. Mirroring his movement, I slid my hands under his shirt, and the moment my hands pressed against his hard, muscled abdomen, he shivered and groaned.
I smiled, biting my lip as I pushed the fabric up to reveal him inch by blissful inch. “I love the sounds you make when I touch you.”
“Well, I love when you touch me, so we’re even.”
I wasn’t as fluid as he was at undressing someone, but when I got the t-shirt up to his chest, he took over for me, reaching behind him with one hand to grab the neck of his shirt and rip it the rest of the way off. He reached for me as soon as it was gone, large, strong hands sliding into my hair as he tilted my head the way he wanted it so he could kiss and bite along the slope of my neck again.
“You better not leave any hickies,” I warned.
“Or what?”
To prove he wasn’t scared of my threat, he bit down hard and sucked my skin between his teeth until I hissed and arched into the touch.
Okay, maybe I was completely fine with a hickie, actually.
Maybe I liked the thought of him wanting to mark me like that, to claim me in a way that was so public and feral.
No.
I mentally slapped myself as all the advice from my internet friends on Reddit surfaced in my brain.
This was how I’d get hurt.
Thoughts like that was how I’d muddy the already shallow water we were swimming in.
To punctuate that slap, I tore away from his touch, sliding my fingers into the band of his joggers and briefs and pulling them down together in one fell swoop.
His cock sprang forward when I did, and because I’d taken his pants all the way down to his ankles, I was face to face with the monstrous thing.
I swallowed, taking in every inch of it before I glanced up at Will.
The corner of his lips lifted, but his eyes were heated and heavy, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he took in the sight of me below him.
I didn’t give him the chance to kick out of the pants. Instead, I dropped to my knees, wrapped him in my fist, and swirled my tongue around his crown before he could make a single move.
“Jesus Christ,” he gasped, one hand flying to the bed behind him to steady himself as the other reached into my hair and gripped tight. He held me still for a moment, not allowing me to move, like he was afraid he’d come in my mouth right then and there if I did. “Woman.”
I pulled back and looked up at him innocently. “What?”
With a growl, he pulled me up by the arms and tossed me onto the bed as if I weighed nothing. He looked almost pissed as he stepped out of his pants, and then he was descending on me, climbing up the bed between my legs with a wicked gleam in his eye.
“I get first taste,” he said, and then he used his shoulders to spread my thighs wide, kissing and biting along my inner thighs. “Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I breathed, writhing beneath him.
“You said those same words to me the first time you came to the rink, you know,” he mused, nosing my clit before he teased me with one feather-light lick. “Made me want to fuck you against the glass and give you a thousand reasons to say them.”
His confession unleashed a gasp, and then his tongue wrenched a moan from deep inside me as he dragged it from my opening up to my clit. He hummed with the motion, the vibration adding to the pleasure, and my legs shook as he repeated the movement again and again.
“So fucking sweet,” he said, fingers digging into my thighs to hold me still as he worked between them. He sucked my clit the way I’d told him I liked during our last lesson, the little pulses driving my orgasm to the surface faster than I thought was possible.
“No,” I whined, wiggling away from him.
He stilled, arching a brow at me. “No?”
“I don’t want to come like this.”
Will slowed his perusal, but still licked and kissed me in lazy sweeps. “How do you want to come, Chloe?”
When he said my name, a shiver rocked through me, and I rolled my fingers over my hard nipples as if my touch could do anything to relieve the ache there.
“I want you to fuck me, Will,” I panted, squirming, confidence soaring through me when those words elicited a groan from him. “I want you to fill me up.”
His groan was deep and guttural, one I felt echoing through my bones as he kissed his way slowly up my body. He let his lips graze my thighs, my hips, my stomach, and breasts before he settled on top of me.
For a long moment, he stared down at me, his eyes flicking between mine as the playfulness slowly disappeared from his gaze. One hand swept the hair from my face, and he thumbed my jaw.
“I didn’t get the chance to tell you how beautiful you looked today,” he said.
My heart thumped twice hard in my chest, a dangerous percussion that I wanted to lean into as much as I wanted to run from screaming.
“It’s just makeup,” I whispered.
“No,” he said instantly, shaking his head, his eyes following the trail his thumb lined on my lip. “It’s just you.”
The words had no sooner left his lips before he was kissing along my neck, and I had no choice but to bow off the bed and into his touch. Soft moans and breaths leaked out of me unbidden, and I savored every little touch of his skin against mine until he rolled off me long enough to retrieve a condom from his joggers.
My pulse picked up as I watched him sheath himself, the imagery hotter than I ever knew it could be. I always pictured a nervous, fumbling college boy hurrying to put a condom on before he rushed to what was next. But Will was slow and purposeful with every move he made, and this was no exception. He kept his eyes fixed on mine, his lips parting as he rolled the latex in place and groaned at the feeling of his fist around his shaft.
It lit me up from my very core, and I squirmed under his gaze, desperate to be connected again.
“You’re going to need to use your words again,” he told me as he crawled back onto the bed. He braced his knees between my thighs, opening me wide for him. “Tell me what you like, what you don’t. We can try as many positions as you want.”
“What about you?” I asked breathlessly. “What position feels good for you?”
“I promise, I’ll be able to come no matter how I fuck you, Chloe,” he husked. “Right now, I’m more focused on not coming until you do.”
I bit my lip on a smirk. Why was that so hot, to know I could conjure that worry in his mind, that there was even a chance of it.
Will’s eyes were hooded and dark as he lifted one of my ankles to his shoulder. He kissed along the inside of the soft skin there before hiking my other leg up, too. Then, he pressed forward, his hands framing my shoulders as his erection pressed against the back of my thighs.
It was a delicious stretch, and my heart galloped as he kissed the inside arch of my foot with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “This okay?”
I nodded.
“Words.”
“Yes,” I breathed.
Balancing on one hand, he reached between us with the other, and I felt him align his crown at my entrance. He toyed with me first, sliding himself up and down through my wet slit before he notched himself in just a centimeter — enough to hold him there as he placed his hand on the bed again.
His eyes held mine as he flexed his hips, and I gasped at the first inch, the searing pain of stretching to fit him blurring with the mind-numbing pleasure of feeling him penetrate me. I didn’t miss how his eyes flared at my reaction, at how he seemed to grow even harder inside me.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” I breathed, and I palmed his ass in my hands, pulling him in deeper.
We groaned in unison as he slid another inch, and then he pulled out, my body instantly craving the fullness of him before he edged himself back in. He was deeper this time, and I moaned and released my grip on him to twist my hands in the comforter, instead.
Again and again, he withdrew and flexed, filling me more and more each time. When he was fully seated, he stayed there for a long moment, both of us breathing hard and soaking in the way it felt to be rooted together.
“Perfect fucking fit,” he growled against my calf, biting the flesh as he withdrew his hips and flexed all the way in again. “Like you were meant for me. Like this cunt was made in my honor.”
“Jesus,” I whispered, eyes rolling up to the ceiling as he rocked in hard enough to make me see stars. “It feels so good.”
“You feel tight as fuck like this,” he said, and he picked up his pace, pumping in and out of me with my legs rested on his shoulders, my body bending in half. “You always feel so fucking tight.”
I loved the position, the way he hit deep with every thrust. I loved watching his dark eyes as he flexed into me, the way his mouth opened, and groans of ecstasy slipped through him.
But I needed… something.
“Talk to me,” he coached.
I bit my lip and frowned, trying to figure it out. “I want to touch myself.”
“Mm,” he mused. “You want to rub your clit while I fuck you?”
“Yes,” I whimpered, my cheeks flaming, and Will pressed up onto his knees. He grabbed my ankles, keeping my legs hiked but spreading them wide and continuing his rhythmic thrusts.
Fuck.
This view completely demolished the one before it.
Now, I could watch the roll of his body when he fucked me, how his abdominal muscles flexed and released with every pump. I felt his grip on my ankles, his eyes raking over my newly exposed flesh. We both watched together as my breasts bounced each time he slid into me, and I moaned when I finally allowed myself to touch them, to roll my nipples in my fingertips and stir my climax closer to the edge.
“God, yes, baby,” Will groaned, feral and unhinged. “Play with those beautiful fucking tits for me.”
Baby.
The nickname made a shock of electricity shoot right to my pussy. It was so intimate and sweet, and yet somehow, he said it in such a filthy way that it unraveled me. It was like he wanted me to be his, or like I already was.
I gave in to the position, letting my eyes close and my neck arch before one hand reached down between my legs and stroked my clit. I fired up to life easily, and I knew without much testing that I could come like this. I could come right now if I wanted to.
But I didn’t.
I wanted to play, to experiment, to learn.
Instantly, I pulled my hands back, my chest heaving, orgasm cresting only to recede again with a frustrated howl.
“I like this,” I breathed. “But I want to try something else.”
Will smirked. “You edging yourself, baby?”
I didn’t even know what the fuck that meant, but I could guess, and when I nodded, Will hummed his approval in a kiss against my ankle. Slowly, he released me, lying down on the bed next to me before helping me climb into his lap.
Except I didn’t straddle him normally.
Instead, he maneuvered me until I was facing away from him, my knees spread over his hips, hands bracing just above his knees on his thick, muscular thighs.
“I want to watch this ass bounce as you ride me,” he said, palming said ass in two lush handfuls. He gripped hard and groaned as he made me jiggle, and then his hand came down in a quick slap that made me gasp and arch and writhe.
I tried not to remember much about my first sexual experience, but one thing I could never forget was how that boy had eviscerated me and my reputation afterward. I could still hear him telling his friends that he’d fucked a fat girl and it wasn’t that bad. I could still vividly remember his face when I took my clothes off, how he hadn’t wanted to look too long.
It had taken me a long time to come back to loving my body after that, but I did. I loved myself fiercely. I found so much beauty in my thickness, in my curves and rolls. I was like Aphrodite, damn it.
And I knew without a second thought that Will felt the same way.
He appreciated me with every look, every touch, every taste.
“Sit on me,” he begged, guiding my hips until I felt the crown of him pressing inside me. I was so wet from him fucking me before that I slid down easily, and we both groaned at the reconnection, his hands roaming over my hips and ass before he slowly started to help me move.
I liked this position, too. It felt completely different than the one before it — I wasn’t quite as full, but the friction of my clit against his balls every time I rocked my hips was so fucking good I didn’t miss the deeper connection.
At first, I used my thighs to really lift and sit, but eventually, the rub of my clit against him was too exquisite to deny myself. I sat more fully, rocking on him and feeling his cock deep and seated inside me.
“I could definitely come like this,” I breathed.
Will moaned and bucked into me, and that sent him deep enough to make me gasp.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Like that.”
He thrust again, taking the work off me as I focused on finding that sweet contact that coaxed my orgasm to the surface. I felt it burning up my veins, my blood pumping faster, heart racing as the edges of my vision blurred.
But before it could catch, I lifted, hovering above him with my legs shaking and a whimpering cry wrenching from my throat. My orgasm was already coming, the beginning of it tingling through me, and now that I’d stopped all contact, my body was convulsing in protest.
“Fucking hell, Chloe,” Will said, sitting up to wrap his arms around me. He palmed my breasts and kissed along my spine. “You’re torturing yourself.”
“I want more.”
“More?”
“Another position.”
He smiled against my shoulder blade. “Masochistic little thing.”
But he answered my plea, flipping me back into the mattress with another appreciative smack of my ass. This time, he had me on my stomach, and he kissed down my back, over my hips, and along each swell of my ass before he hiked my hips up.
I arched my back, knees planted against the mattress but my face still in the pillows as he fit himself to me. He played with me again, sliding his crown between my lips and running it up and down before wedging himself inside me.
He slid in hard and fast and deep — so fucking deep I cried out and fisted the sheets like I’d spiral into space if I didn’t hold onto them for dear life.
“Fuck,” I screamed, but a moan rode out of me on the next breath. “So deep.”
Will groaned his agreement, withdrawing and flexing inside me all the way to the hilt again. It stole my breath when he did. He was so impossibly deep like this, enough so that I felt him hitting edges inside me never before touched.
“Too much?” he asked, slowing his pace.
“No,” I said. “Yes. Maybe?”
Will kept his pace slow and even for a while to let me adjust, and then he pressed his weight into me from behind until I had no choice but to drop to the bed. I was flat on my stomach, but then he hiked my left knee up toward my chest, using his knees to spread me wide.
As soon as he slid inside me again, I knew this was the jackpot.
My hips were lifted just enough from my knee being perched for me to slide my hand down and rub my clit in slow, torturous circles. Will balanced on the hand behind me while using the other to snake under me and fondle my breast. We both moaned when he palmed me, testing the weight, and then he was toying with my nipple and flexing into me in slow, smooth, steady pumps.
“Oh, fuck,” I breathed. “This. God, this.”
Will was speechless now, his face twisted up as he pressed his forehead against the back of my head. I was arching and reaching for him, and he seemed to be doing everything he could not to come.
That spurred me on.
I rubbed my clit with more pressure, rocking into my hand each time Will rocked into me. He was so deep, and he was everywhere — his lips kissing my hair, his hand massaging my breast, his cock filling me with enough depth to bring stars to the edge of my vision.
This time, my orgasm crept up slowly, like it wasn’t sure if I was teasing it again, like it didn’t trust me to let it loose. But the more it came on, the more it took over, the less control I had.
It prickled my skin at first, and then numbed my toes and fingers, working slowly toward my core. Heat battled with ice in my veins. Pleasure sparked so electric that I cried out, chasing the sensation, my hand wild between my legs as my entire body trembled with the effort to catch the fire.
And then the earth shook, a star exploded in the universe of my soul, and I came like I’d never come before.
It almost hurt at first, and I whimpered Will’s name as he grunted and kept his pace to drive me home. On the heels of that pain was the most consuming pleasure I’d ever experienced, the kind that swallows you whole and takes you to another realm. I moaned and screamed his name, begging for more as much as I willed it to stop — but the waves kept coming, crashing over me again and again until I was drowning and shaking and pleading for air.
“Fuck, Chloe,” Will groaned in my ear, and then he plunged deep, spawning on the last of my climax just as he caught his own. I wanted to live inside a cave with the sounds he let loose, to hear those moans and pants of ecstasy echoing off the walls of my heart forevermore.
I loved to undo him. I lived for that rush of power and pleasure as he spilled inside the condom, inside me, his shoulders taut, arms trembling, breath sawing in and out of him in uneven bursts.
Eventually, he stilled, and I collapsed into the bed, heaving and sweating and smiling like a fucking loon. I moaned when Will flexed inside me one last time, and then he withdrew, both of us hissing at the loss.
He rolled onto the bed beside me, and I creaked one eye open, smile widening as I took in the sight of him breathing so hard it was like he’d just played two back-to-back games.
“Jesus fucking Christ, woman,” he cursed, one hand on his chest and the other sweeping through his hair. He let his head fall to the side, eyes wide like I was insane. “I think you might be the death of me.”
I just giggled, kicking my feet with the soreness of him still lingering between my thighs.
“Thanks for the lesson, coach,” I said, lifting up onto my elbows to wink at him.
He groaned, thumbing my chin as his eyes raked over me. It had to be a sight — my cleavage against the bed, my face pink from being freshly fucked.
“Pretzel.”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s the name of the position,” he mused. “Pretzel.”
“Pretzel,” I echoed, and my tongue skated out to taste his thumb when he ran it over my bottom lip. “I definitely like that one.”
“I can see that,” he mused. “And the others?”
“I liked them, too.”
“I’m beginning to wonder if there’s anything you don’t like.”
When you leave.
The words danced on the tip of my tongue, twirling against the back of my teeth and begging to be set free.
I swallowed them down, instead.
We were quiet for a long while before Will made the first move, groaning his way out of the sheets before he was helping me stand, too. We showered together, and just like the last time, he washed my body and my hair as I moaned and leaned into his strong, gentle touch.
But as soon as we were dry, he was dressing.
As soon as he was dressed, he was gone.
And as soon as he was gone, my mind was racing, heart aching, every cell in my body warning me that I was lying to myself.
I told him I could do this.
I told him I didn’t want anything more.
But the voices of my matriarchy were being drowned out more and more by the voice inside me screaming that he could be different, that this didn’t have to have rules, that we could be more.
And I didn’t need Reddit to tell me how stupid and delirious those thoughts were.
