Chapter Forty WILLOW

I am so nervous, I’m visibly shaking. The only reason I’ve got the silk curtains in a death grip is because I’m hoping it’s not obvious how much I’m trembling. I’m too much in my head, thinking all of the thoughts that go along with the situation I’m currently in.

Are we going to have sex tonight? Is it going to hurt? He promised to go slow. I felt his erection and it was … larger than I thought it could be. That struck terror in my heart and filled me with worry. Is this possible? Will he fit? Will he stretch me so wide that I’ll cry?

Oh God.

See? This has the potential for disaster—my thoughts. My worry.

But then he rests his hands on my hips, shifting ever so close to me, and I close my eyes, grateful for his nearness. The solid weight of his body seems to keep me propped up and I lean into him, letting my muscles relax. Trying my hardest to shut off my overworking brain.

It’s tough though. Those thoughts are on repeat and refusing to stop.

“Are you freaking out?” Rhett shifts even closer, his arms wrapping around my middle. He rests his hands on my stomach, my back plastered to his front, and I lean the back of my head against his chest, savoring the warmth and strength of his touch.

“A little,” I admit, wanting to be truthful with him.

“Don’t.” His voice is low, rumbling along my nerve endings, settling them. Somewhat. “I’ve got you.”

His mouth drifts across the side of my face, his lips feather soft and barely there. I lean my head into his, about to release my grip on the curtains when his command stops me.

“Don’t let go.”

I go still, uncertainty making me freeze. I don’t know what he wants. Waiting for a signal from him. But he doesn’t give me one. Instead, he moves his hands so that they rest on my hips, his fingers curling, slowly gathering the fabric of my skirt. Lifting it up, the cool air hitting my legs, making me tremble.

“What’s happening now?” he asks, his tone conversational, his hands working magic on my skin. They slip under my dress, rough fingertips brushing along my outer thighs. “Outside at the party?”

“Oh.” I choke on the single word when his fingers slide up, brushing over the thin waistband of my panties. “Um, most of the guests are gone. The catering staff is cleaning up.”

“Think they can see you?” He slips his fingers beneath the waistband, touching the bare skin of my hips. “Standing in the window?”

“I-I don’t know.” I sway when he traces the waistband of my panties from my hips to my backside.

“Do you want them to see you?” Oh, his voice is a sensuous dare, one I’ve never heard before, and I feel as if I’m in a trance. Lost in the sensation of his touch, the words he’s saying to me.

“Maybe,” I whisper, nearly stumbling when he glides me closer to the window, my body pressed to the cold glass. It’s a shock to my warm skin and I suck in a sharp breath, closing my eyes when he tugs on my panties, yanking them down my butt cheeks. Exposing me.

“This dress …” His voice drifts and he shoves at the fabric of my skirt, bunching it around my waist. My butt is completely exposed to his gaze and I’m both mortified and completely aroused at the same time. I don’t know how that’s even possible. “It’s been driving me crazy all night.”

“Really?” My voice squeaks with surprise. I felt good in it, but I wasn’t sure if he really noticed.

“You ask that like you’re shocked. Come on, Will. You know what you do to me.” He presses his torso against my butt, letting me feel exactly what I do to him.

He’s hard. Huge. My legs wobble at the sheer size of him and I hang on tighter to the curtains. His right hand slips around, cupping the front of my panties, his mouth right at my ear. “You’re wet.”

Embarrassingly so. His fingers gently press against my flesh, saturating my flimsy panties with my own wetness and when he starts to rub, my head falls back against his shoulder once again. I close my eyes, lost in the sensations of his busy fingers, and when he presses against a particularly sensitive spot, it’s as if sparks light up my skin, spreading everywhere.

“Do you ever touch yourself like this?” he asks, and oh my God, how do I answer him? With the truth? “You can trust me, Will. I won’t reveal your dirty little secrets.”

“Y-yes-s.” The word stutters out of me like I can barely speak. Or maybe that’s because he’s increased his speed, touching me harder. Faster. It feels so much better when he does it. When I can feel him pressed against me, his mouth at my cheek, my ear. His hot, panting breaths. He’s enjoying this maybe almost as much as I am.

Or maybe not, because the way he’s stroking me feels amazing.

“This morning in the shower, I jerked off while thinking about you,” he admits, his deep voice vibrating within me. I’m tingling everywhere, imagining him touching himself. “I imagined doing exactly this with you. Making you wet. Making you come.”

Oh. My clit is throbbing from his words and touch. I’m going to come. I’m so close.

“Spread your legs, baby,” he demands, and I automatically do as he says. “And don’t let go of the curtains.”

He spins little circles atop my clit with his thumb. His index finger. And then he stops, sliding his fingers through my slick folds, his middle finger testing my entrance before pushing inside. I hold my breath at the sensation of him inside me. Even if it’s just his finger, this feels like a moment. I remember vaguely what Iris told me. How there’s no going back after this. The more you give them, the more they want, and eventually, you don’t even care. You want to give them everything.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” His voice is harsh, his control remarkable. I don’t know why he hasn’t just flipped me over his shoulder and carried me back to the bed already. But it’s kind of exciting, standing in front of the window with Rhett’s fingers under my panties, searching me.

About to make me come.

I hang on the precipice, a moan leaving me when he withdraws his finger from where no one has ever been before. He returns his attention to my clit, rubbing it in quick little circles that has me panting, the tension radiating throughout my body making it a struggle to breathe. I tilt my hips upward, seeking more, needing more, and he gives it to me. His mouth is crushed against my ear, his breaths harsh, his fingers frenzied. I’m close. So close …

His mouth somehow finds mine in a sloppy kiss and the moment his tongue strokes mine, I’m coming. I gasp and moan against his lips, my head falling back as he presses against my clit. Wave after wave of sensation slams into me, making me weak. Dizzy. I let go of the curtains in freefall for only a second before his arms tighten around me, keeping me on my feet.

I sag against him once my orgasm subsides, trying to catch my breath when I hear both of our phones ding with a notification.

“I bet that’s Iris,” I murmur, allowing Rhett to turn me to face him, his hands on my hips. “She probably wants to meet us now.” Rhett glances down at himself and I follow his path, my eyes widening when I see his erection straining against the front of his pants. “I don’t think I can go out like this.”

A giggle escapes me when I picture him showing up at the hot tub with a tent in his swim trunks. I’m sure Iris would find it hilarious. And then she’d probably call me a lucky bitch.

I can literally hear her say exactly that.

“Do you need my help?” I reach out to touch him, drifting my fingers across his impressive length. He hisses in a breath at first contact but that only makes me bolder. I touch him more firmly, curling my fingers around him, trying to learn his shape despite the thick material of his pants.

“Willow …” His voice is a warning, one I don’t take. With my other hand, I reach for the button, undoing it before I pull down the zipper, my hand automatically going to the front of his black underwear. He’s even warmer with only the cotton barrier preventing me from touching his actual flesh, and I glance up at him, feeling powerful.

I did this to him. I made him hard and aching for me. The agony on his face is obvious and he grabs hold of my wrist, stopping me from further exploring.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” I say without hesitation. “Let’s go to the bed.”

“Should we check our messages?” His voice is weak. I want his resolve to be as well. I want him to do what I want, so I can do what I want to him.

“They can wait.” I remove my hand from inside his khakis and shift away from him, heading for the bed. “Are you coming?”

My voice is a tease, as is my choice of words. He follows after me without hesitation, both of us sitting on the edge of the mattress, me lunging for him, my mouth finding his. I kiss him with everything I’ve got. All the pent-up emotion and passion I’ve felt throughout the night. The gratitude I want to show him for giving me my first orgasm brought on by someone else.

It was a delicious, life-changing moment. One I want to repeat with him as often as possible.

We kiss and kiss, rarely breaking apart, but somehow, he ends up with his khakis down around his ankles and my hand beneath his boxer briefs. Learning the shape and size of him and what he might like. Currently it’s anything I do, but I’m sure he has preferences. Spots that feel better when touched than others. I want to learn them all.

I want to learn everything about him.

“Will you come like this?” I whisper against his always seeking lips. My hand is wrapped around his length and he’s leaking all over my fingers. I don’t know why, but I didn’t realize men could be as wet as women before they actually come.

“Squeeze a little tighter and move a little faster—that’ll make me come,” he says.

I do as he suggests, my fingers grasping his shaft harder, sliding up and down. Our mouths fused, his hand on my breasts, tugging at the front of my dress with enough force that eventually they pop out. I can feel his fingers on my nipples. Teasing them. Pinching them and I swear I’m wet again.

“Oh fuck.” He moans when I rub my thumb across his tip, my fingers squeezing. “Just like that.”

I keep doing what he likes, his entire body going still—to the point that I swear he’s not even breathing. I increase my pace, my movements jerky. Not practiced at all but I don’t think he cares. He even settles his hand over mine, demonstrating what he wants me to do before he lets go and I mimic him, pulling away from his mouth, glancing down to watch.

When I imagined doing something sexually with a boy for the first time, I never thought I’d want to actually see anything. I figured I’d keep my eyes tightly closed and concentrate on feeling.

But there is something almost beautiful in witnessing this moment—the one I’m sharing with Rhett for the first time. How vulnerable he is, how real and raw and beautiful. His eyes crack open as well, his gaze meeting mine, and we stare at each other while I stroke him, our gazes both dropping when I feel that first spurt of liquid on my fingers.

He’s coming all over my hand groaning from the force of it, his body wracked with shudders. I watch in quiet fascination, my hand going slower and slower as he leans back, his hands braced on the mattress behind him, his erection still in my hands, pulsating.

When he’s done, I carefully remove my hand, bringing my fingers to my face so I can smell his semen. This experience feels like a mystery revealed, a moment etched in my brain, one I will never be able to forget.

There’s a knock on the door. A pounding really. It startles us both, our heads whipping in the direction of the door and the handle jiggles, as if someone is trying to open it.

“We know you’re in there, you perverts,” Iris seems to breathe through the wood. Is she speaking into the crack between the door and the frame? Trying to see inside? “Stop fucking around and meet us in ten.”

“I had nothing to do with this,” Brooks calls as Iris gives the handle one more shake before giving up.

We remain quiet for a moment, sharing a look only when we assume they’re gone.

“Your cousin is fucking insane,” Rhett mutters.

“I know,” I whisper with a giggle.

“You going to clean that up or lick it off?” Rhett arches a brow.

My cheeks burn. Even after what just happened and how bold I acted, I am blushing like a virgin. Which after all, I still am one.

Probably not for long though.