Page 48

"Good." I roll my hips slowly, deliberately, watching his face as I grind against him through his jeans and my leggings. "I like seeing you like this. All wound up and desperate for me."

His knuckles go white as his grip on the seat tightens. "Fuck, kitten."

The pet name makes me move faster, finding a rhythm that has both of us breathing hard within seconds. The friction is perfect, even through our clothes, and I can feel how hard he is beneath me.

"You like this, don't you?" I whisper in his ear before I run my tongue along the edge of his jaw. "Being told what to do?"

"At times, yes," he admits. "Fuck, yes."

"That's what I like to hear." I lean back slightly so I can look at him properly. I brace my hands on his shoulders for balance and to not embarrass myself if I fall over. "You're being such a good boy, keeping your hands exactly where I told you to."

His jaw clenches at the praise, and I feel his cock twitch beneath me. The reaction makes me grin wickedly.

"Tell me what you want," I command, slowing my movements to an agonizing pace that leaves us both struggling to maintain our positions.

"I want—" He stops, swallowing hard as I circle my hips in a way that makes his eyes nearly roll back. "I want you to keep doing exactly what you're doing."

"Just this?" I grind down harder, watching the way his mouth falls open. "Nothing else?"

"Fuck." The word comes out strangled. "I want these clothes gone. I want to be inside you. I want to make you come so hard that you forget your own name."

"Mmm, that sounds tempting." I trace my fingers along the collar of his shirt. "But I think I like having you at my mercy like this."

"You're going to kill me," he gasps as I find a particularly good angle that makes us both moan.

"What a way to go though," I tease, picking up the pace just enough to make his hands move toward me before he catches himself.

"Willow, please?—"

"Please what? Use your words and tell me what you want." I’m so glad I can finally throw that back at him.

His head falls back against the headrest. "Please let me touch you. I need to feel you."

I consider his request as I’m watching the way he's fighting every instinct to grab me. The control he's showing, the way he's letting me lead, makes me want to reward him.

"Not yet," I decide, earning a frustrated groan. "You haven't been good long enough."

But even as I say it, I can feel my own control slipping.

Getting properly fucked after a long, stressful day is just what any doctor would order, or that’s my belief.

However, this isn't just about getting off in the front seat of my car.

This is about something deeper, something I've been craving without even realizing it.

Control. The ability to call the shots, to have someone as composed and careful as Blaise completely at my mercy.

"You're shaking," I say, taking on the role of Captain Obvious.

"You're making it impossible to think straight," he manages to get out.

I lean forward until my mouth is right against his ear. "Good. I don't want you thinking. This should be nothing but pure instinct at this point. Fuck," I whisper as I start to feel my own release coming closer. I didn’t think I’d even get close just from doing this.

"Let me touch you," he pleads again. "Please, kitten. I need to feel you."

The desperation in his voice nearly breaks my willpower. Or maybe I'm just getting too close to the edge to care about power games anymore.

“Wait. I have something to show you," I say. I sit back just enough to unzip my coat.

It only takes him a second to realize what I have on. “My jersey? Wait what?—”

“The night you kissed me for the first time. It was also the night you stayed up and made sure that I didn’t get sick after drinking too much. Even though I was upset because you rejected me, I still wanted to keep something from that night, so I chose this.”

He swallows hard, but doesn’t say a word. It’s as if he doesn’t know whether to kiss me or apologize. Maybe it’s both.

“I can’t believe you kept it all this time,” he whispers.

I nod. “Even when I hated you, I never stopped wanting this.”

“It still looks better on you than it ever will on me,” he says with a small, broken smile.

I lean in and kiss him and it’s as if we’re speaking a language only meant for us. He kisses me back like he’s sorry for all of it. Like he’d take every bad decision back if it meant this moment could’ve happened sooner.

When we finally break for air, he says, “I need to fuck you with my jersey on.”

And that’s all it takes for me to get this show on the road. "Okay," I say against his lips. "Now you can touch me."

His hands are on me before I finish speaking, one gripping my hip while the other tangles in my hair. The kiss he pulls me into is everything but soft and sweet and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

"You drive me fucking crazy," he growls against my mouth as his hands guide my movements, helping me find another rhythm all together.

"Good," I gasp, my head falling back as the sensation becomes overwhelming. "I want to drive you crazy. I want to be the thing you can't stop thinking about."

"You already are," he confesses. "You have been since Puerto Rico. Since before Puerto Rico, if I’m being honest."

The admission sends me spiraling toward the edge faster than I could have ever imagined. It’s then that I’m willing to admit to myself that this isn't just physical and it never was.

"Blaise," I whisper, and he knows exactly what I need.

His hand slides between us, finding the spot I want him most even through my leggings and he applies just the right pressure to send me flying over the edge.

I come with his name on my lips and while I’m still processing what happened, I say, “I want you inside me. Right now.”

"Yes, let me grab a condom and then?—"

“I already told you I’m on birth control. I want to feel what it’s like to have you, just you, inside me.”

"Willow." My name comes out like he’s not sure if he heard me correctly. "Are you sure?"

I'm still trembling from my orgasm, still riding that high, but I've never been more certain of anything in my life.

This isn't some impulsive decision made in the heat of the moment.

This is me choosing him, choosing us, choosing to stop hiding behind fear and logistics and all the reasons this shouldn't be happening.

"I'm sure." I shift in his lap, feeling how hard he still is beneath me. "I want all of you, Blaise. No barriers, no holding back."

His hands tighten on my hips, thumbs tracing circles through the fabric of my leggings. "You know what you're asking for?"

"I know exactly what I'm asking for." I lean down to brush my lips against his. "I'm asking you to stop treating me like I'm going to break. I'm asking you to give me everything you've been holding back. Because I know you have been."

The last thread of his control snaps. Something in my voice must convince him because suddenly his mouth is on mine, kissing me with everything in him. His hands move toward my leggings and I think he’s going to grab my waistband, but he goes straight for the seam in between my thighs.

The fabric doesn’t stand a chance and gives way with a very loud rip. I gasp at the sudden sensation of cold air hitting my skin and because I can’t believe he. Just. Did. That.

"Fuck," he breathes, his fingers immediately finding the wet heat between my legs. "You're so ready for me."

I am. I've been ready since the moment he got into this car, maybe since the moment we left Puerto Rico. His touch is exactly what I need especially when he slips two fingers inside me easily.

"No more waiting," I say, fumbling with his belt buckle. My hands are shaking, whether from the cold or anticipation, I can't tell. "I need you now."

He helps me, lifting his hips so I can push his jeans and boxers down enough to free him. The sight of his cock, hard and ready, makes my mouth water.

"Come here," he growls, positioning himself beneath me.

I rise up on my knees, using his shoulders for balance as he guides himself to my entrance. The first touch of him against me, skin to skin with nothing between us, makes us both freeze.

"Last chance to change your mind," he says.

Instead of answering, I sink down onto him slowly, taking him inch by inch until he's buried completely inside me. The stretch is overwhelming in the best possible way. He's bigger without the condom, or maybe it just feels that way because I can feel everything, but I’m still shocked that we’re actually doing this.

"Fuck, I…don’t know what to say." My sentence ends with a moan.

"I know." His forehead is pressed against mine as we both struggle to adjust. "So tight. So perfect. Just...give me a second."

But I don't want to give him a second. I want to move and feel everything he's been holding back. I do wait for a moment out of respect for him, but when I shift slightly, the movement sends shockwaves through both of us.

"Kitten..."

His sentence dies on his lips when our eyes meet. Here’s another line we’ve crossed and there’s no coming back from it. And for some weird reason, I’m perfectly okay with that thought.

With that in mind, I begin to move. The cramped space forces us closer together.

Every move we make is more intense because we can't get the leverage we want.

I'm practically pinned against the roof of my car, but I don't care. The awkward angles, including the way my knee keeps hitting the door handle and the fact that we're both still half-dressed doesn’t matter to me one bit. All because I’m satisfying a craving I’ve had for what feels like forever.

I swear our bodies are coming together as one shakes the whole car.

I grip the fabric of his hoodie for balance as I set the pace, taking as much of him as my body will allow.

I feel everything, hot and slick and impossibly deep, and the way his fingers dig into my thighs tells me he’s barely hanging on.

"Slow down," he somehow manages to say. "Or this isn’t going to last long."

The warning shoots electricity through me. "Is that supposed to be a problem?" I ask, grinding down harder and rolling my hips just to watch his eyelids flutter shut.

"You're evil," he groans. His grip alternates between gentle and bruising, like he’s torn between worshipping me and pinning me in place. At this point, I don’t care if he does either one or both.

I want him to lose it. I want him to snap so completely that he can’t remember anything but me. “I think we both like me when I’m this way.”

"You're right. I love you like this. Confident, in control, taking what you want."

The words hit me harder than they should. Not the love part because I know he’s talking about us in just the heat of the moment but the way he sees me.

"Then let me have what I want," I whisper, picking up the pace despite his earlier warning.

"Fuck it," he growls against my mouth. "I can't hold back anymore."

His hips surge up to meet mine, and suddenly every thrust hits deeper than before and the angle has me seeing my life flash before my eyes.

"Yes. Just like that,” is all I can say, and I’m impressed that I managed to do that.

One of his hands makes his way up my body until it comes to a stop near the base of my throat. "Is this okay?" he asks.

I nod and say in between taking quick breaths, “I want a necklace only you can give me.”

His fingers wrap around my throat with perfect pressure.

It’s firm enough that it makes me wetter, yet gentle enough that I know he'd never hurt me.

The combination of his hand around my throat and the way he's filling me completely pushes me right to the edge again.

My vision blurs as I recognize what is coming next. Me.

"Come for me," he commands. "I want to feel you fall apart around my cock."

His words, combined with the pressure of his fingers and one final thrust, send me crashing over the edge. My orgasm rips through me with an intensity that makes my whole body shake. I cry out his name as I clench around him, riding him as every wave hits me.

"Fuck, Willow," he groans. "You're so—I can't?—"

His release follows immediately after mine. A tired smile forms on my face due to his moan that’s so loud, it sounds like it bounces off of every surface in the car. His hand falls away from my throat to grab my hip as he empties himself inside me completely.

We stay frozen like that for several long moments, both of us breathing hard and trying to process what just happened. I can feel him inside me, and I'm in no hurry to move.

"Well," I say finally as I’m still trying to catch my breath, "this is going to be interesting to clean up."

Blaise lets out a low chuckle. "I have some napkins in my glove compartment. I’ll just have to run out and get them. And you..." He points at my torn leggings. "You're going to need a new pair of those."

"These were my favorite leggings," I say, though I'm grinning as I do.

"I'll buy you ten new pairs." His eyes are soft as he looks at me. "Twenty if you want."

"Such a gentleman, offering to replace the clothes you destroyed." I shift slightly and we both inhale sharply at the sensation. "Though I have to say, that was worth a pair of leggings."

"Just one pair?" He raises an eyebrow. "I'm insulted."

I laugh, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "Fine, it was worth my entire wardrobe."

We fall into comfortable silence again, and I let myself enjoy this moment of peace before reality creeps back in.

It’s then I realize I’ve come to a decision.

"Blaise," I say quietly as I play with the strings of his hoodie. "We don’t have to talk about this now, but I think I’m ready to talk about us and how we should approach Knox.”

He does a double-take. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Well, yeah." I meet his eyes but my confidence takes a small dive. "I mean, we can't keep sneaking around forever. And this...what we just did...it feels like more than just fooling around, doesn't it?"

"It is. For me, at least." He pauses, studying my face. "Are you saying what I think you're saying? That this is more than physical and that we are in a relationship?”

"I mean...isn't it? Unless you’re hooking up with other?—”

"Don’t even fucking say it," he says firmly. "There’s been no one else since you and it was a while before that."

I remember him saying that and it calms me down. "Good. I'm glad we're on the same page, but before we talk about Knox, we need to get cleaned up. I refuse to talk about my brother with your cock inside me.”

That makes Blaise chuckle. “Deal.”