Page 2 of Finding Home (Willow Valley #1)
TWO
CHLOE
M y heart is hammering in my chest as I stare at Everett kneeling between my spread legs, my panty-clad pussy on full display for him.
I would in no way be surprised if there was a wet spot on the fabric.
It took everything in me not to squirm under his gaze as I stood in front of him, boldly removing my clothes as if it was something I do all the time.
I don’t sleep with locals. Between having known most of them all my life and the others just being totally not my type, pickings are slim in Willow Valley.
It wasn’t until I left Willow Valley and attended school in Kamloops that I finally lost my virginity, and it was not a fun experience by any means.
Since then, I had one serious boyfriend in university and a few one-night stands or people I’d call if I needed an itch scratched, but I was drunk for most of them.
Right now, I’m a bit buzzed, shouldn’t be driving, but fully aware of what’s going on, and after Everett took off his shirt, I could not be more glad for that.
The man obviously takes care of himself, and the way he picked me up with complete ease, despite my five-foot-nine height, was panty melting. I’ve never had a man who could do that.
Everett’s eyes don’t leave mine as his fingers find the waistband of my panties and slowly pull them down my legs.
When they finally move and land on my pussy, heat fills them.
I’d usually get shy right now, trying to close my legs and take away his view, but there’s something about the way he’s staring at me that’s filling me with confidence and has me opening my legs wider for him, making him groan.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs before he leans forward and drags his lips up the inside of my thigh, causing a chill to wrack through me and goosebumps to erupt up both legs. My head drops back as he inches higher and fans his warm breath over my centre.
Just as I go to lift my head to look at him again, his tongue darts out and he tastes me, causing my elbows to give out as a moan leaves me.
Most men I’ve been with have never even offered to go down on me. They’ve just been looking to get their dick wet, and then they’re gone as soon as they come, whether I have or not. The way Everett is taking his time right now tells me he won’t be leaving here until he thinks I’m fully satisfied.
He’s methodical, slowly figuring out what pulls moans from me and has my back arching off the bed.
His fingers join in his efforts, and he finds that magic spot inside me that has my thighs clamping around his head.
I feel him grin against me as he painstakingly picks up the pace of his tongue flicking over my clit and fingers rubbing my G-spot.
“Everett,” I pant, right on the edge of my orgasm.
He doesn’t stop, it only seems to fuel him as he sucks my clit into his mouth as my hands fist the comforter and my back arches off the bed, my orgasm tearing through me.
He works every last bit of my pleasure from me before he removes his fingers and stands between my legs, waiting until I meet his gaze to suck on his fingers.
“Holy shit,” I mutter.
His grin is wicked as he undoes the button on his shorts and pushes them and his underwear down before kicking them to the side.
I watch as he wraps his hand around his hard cock and strokes it a few times.
Pre-cum gathers at the tip, and my mouth waters.
While I watch him, I push myself up and shuffle on my knees towards the end of the bed.
He wordlessly allows my hand to replace his as I slip between him and the end of the bed, landing on my knees.
The way Everett watches me, his eyes full of heat, but says nothing is intense. I have this nagging need to please him, and I don’t know why .
Leaning forward, I run my tongue across the slit before wrapping my lips around the tip and sucking.
His hand finds my head, his fingers threading through my hair.
I grin before taking him in my mouth again, my hand working his base as I take him as far as I can, and Everett grunts.
It spurs me on more. Every time I find something he likes and his hand tightens in my hair or he grunts something unintelligible, I repeat it.
When my hand finds his balls and I roll them, his grip in my hair tightens to the brink of pain and tears gather in the corner of my eyes. I tighten my grip around him as I take him all the way to the back of my throat. He pulls my head back, causing me to release him with a pop.
“On the bed, ass up,” he demands, and I scramble to follow his orders, climbing on the bed, chest down and ass up.
I hear him fumble with something and then hear the tearing of foil. I take a deep breath, anticipating what’s to come next. He grips my ankles and pulls me back to the edge of the bed and lifts my hips right where he wants them.
“You said rough,” he says before notching himself at my entrance and pushing forward in one full thrust. The stretch is slightly painful before it fades into full-blown pleasure. He gives me a minute to adjust before he pulls out and thrusts back in, pulling a loud moan from me.
One hand finds my hips while the other finds my shoulder as he thrusts into me hard and fast, the apartment filling with the sounds of my moans and skin slapping.
“I’m gonna come,” I moan, and he speeds up, thrusting harder than I ever thought possible.
“ Fuck! ” he moans as I come, my pussy squeezing tightly around his cock. My orgasm drags out, tremors wracking my body in a way I’ve never experienced before. He shouts as he comes, emptying himself into the condom.
I’m panting, working to catch my breath as Everett collapses on top of me. The kiss he places on my shoulder feels odd and out of place. The butterflies it causes in my stomach are even more bizarre, but I push the feeling aside as he pulls out of me and makes his way to the washroom .
I lie flat on my stomach, listening to the water run before the door opens and I feel his presence at the end of the bed. I roll to the side to look at him and watch him step back into his shorts and do them up. I have no idea what I’m supposed to say.
He grabs his shirt off the floor before walking over to me, his thumb finding my bottom lip and pulling it down.
He leans down, hovering above me, close enough to kiss, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he whispers, “Thank you,” and releases my lip before he walks out the front door, leaving me staring after him.