Chapter Forty-Two WILLOW

I can sense Rhett is waiting for me to make a decision—and I appreciate that he’s leaving it all up to me. He doesn’t try to coerce me into going into the room with him—instead he’s giving me the power to make my own choice. And it’s not like it’s something he’s giving me either. He respects me and my decisions, and I appreciate that more than he’ll ever know.

It’s almost as if he was made for me. Only me.

Some would call me spoiled, and I wouldn’t argue with them. I understand that I live an incredible life of privilege, where I never have to worry about money or getting what I want—for the most part. But those are material things. When it comes to people, it’s harder to trust, to share parts of myself without fear of judgment or worse, someone wanting to get close to me only because of my family and the wealth that comes with it. It’s difficult to know who has your best interests at heart. I think of Alana and how quick she was to turn on our friendship for her own happiness. And now look at her, most likely miserable with Silas.

I suppose that’s what she deserves.

Mulling over this makes me understand Iris’s behavior even more now. Why she’s so afraid to trust. To readily give her heart to someone—to break down those walls and let Brooks in. That’s all he wants. He seems to accept her for who she is, but she still has difficulty seeing that and I finally get why.

Letting down our guard and letting someone into our private world isn’t easy. People want to use us for what we can give them, for our status. If you’re sincere, starting a relationship with a Lancaster can’t be easy.

My gaze finds Rhett, my heart swelling the longer I study him. I trust him. I adore him. It’s only been a few weeks that we’ve known each other but there’s not a doubt in my mind that he would ever hurt me. I care about him, and the idea of that is thrilling and scary and exciting and terrifying.

“Can we go to your room?” I ask shyly, smiling.

The pleased look on his face makes my heart beat harder. “Is that what you want?”

I go to him, letting my towel drop with a wet plop onto the floor, and he opens his towel up, pulling me in closer and wrapping me up in his arms. I feel nothing but damp skin and hard muscles and I rest my hand on his stomach, noting how the muscles jump there.

“It’s what I want,” I whisper.

In a flash he’s hurriedly escorting me to his room, opening the door with jerky movements and practically shoving me inside. I go willingly, turning to face him when he enters, reaching behind him to twist the lock into place. He tosses his towel onto the connected bathroom floor, stalking toward me with a serious look on his handsome face. His mouth is pursed, his eyes are sparkling with mischief, and I can’t help it.

Squealing, I try to run, but it’s no use. He catches me with ease, his arm hooking around my middle, hauling me close to him. I savor the press of his skin against mine, how hot he is and when he bends down, he scoops me completely into his arms, cradling me as he walks me over to the bed.

“Put me down,” I tell him, trying to put up a struggle, but it’s pitiful at best. I’m enjoying it too much.

Rhett does as I ask though, dropping me onto the bed and following after me, caging me with his big body. I’m pinned to the mattress by his bulky frame and I love it.

Winding my arms around his neck, I tangle my fingers into the damp hair at his nape, toying with it as I stare up into his face. He’s so handsome he makes my heart ache. I touch his cheek and let my hand drift down, my fingers streaking across his mouth. He kisses my fingertips, the gesture sweet, and I rear up, pressing my mouth to his in a simple kiss.

“What was that for?” he asks after I pull away, dipping his head to nuzzle my cheek with his nose.

“I like you,” I whisper, and it’s true. “I like how you treat me.”

“How do I treat you?”

“Like I’m breakable, but that’s okay because you’re there to put me back together if necessary.” I smile.

Rhett does too. “I like how you put that.”

“Was it corny?”

“No. It was kind of romantic.” It’s his turn to kiss me. “Are you implying that I’m the only one who can put you back together?”

“You’re the only one who knows my exact fit.” Oh, that sounds silly. I’m being silly, but it truly feels like that with Rhett.

Like he’s the only one who understands me. Who sees me for who I really am.

“I’m totally rushing things, aren’t I?” I ask, a little embarrassed. “Maybe we should change the subject.”

“No.” It’s his turn to touch my face, his fingers firm when they wrap around my chin. “I think we’re both rushing things.”

I blink up at him, my heart in freefall. I want him to be truthful with me, but I also don’t want him to say we should slow things down. I’d automatically assume that means he doesn’t feel the same as I do and in this very moment, I’m overwhelmed with emotion. For him.

“Is that bad?” I whisper, fear tightening my throat, making it difficult to breathe.

Rhett slowly shakes his head, his sexy lips curved into the faintest smile. I will remember that look on his face for the rest of my life, I tell myself. The way his eyes light up and that barely-there smile. “I feel the same way.”

I kiss him again like I can’t help it, my mouth finding his, my tongue sweeping in. The more I’m with him, the bolder I feel and I can tell he likes it from the groan that leaves him. His hand cups the side of my face, tilting my head back, allowing our kiss to deepen and I’m lost. Lost in a tangle of limbs and breathless sighs. My teeth nipping his lower lip—tugging and pulling. He seems to savor me, his tongue searching my mouth, circling around mine, his hips starting to move, surging against me.

He’s hard and thick, and I automatically spread my legs, allowing him to settle more firmly against me. His erection nudges a spot beneath my bikini bottoms, making me see stars and I lift my hips, seeking more. He responds, and in seconds we’re grinding against each other, the friction driving me wild. Making me want more.

Too fast.

The words flit through my brain and I pause for a moment. Catching my breath, gathering my thoughts. Rhett kisses along my jaw, down my neck, nibbling and licking my sensitive skin. I’m trembling from his attention, from nerves, from the cold fabric of my bikini.

Rhett lifts his head, studying me. “Are you all right?”

I offer a quick nod. “A little nervous.”

He rises up, his mouth finding mine again, kissing me lightly before pulling away. “I won’t push. Whatever you want to do, Will, that’s what we’ll do.”

“I know.” A shuddery breath leaves me and I touch his face. “I’m getting too in my head again.”

He kisses me. “We should try and fix that.”

“And I’m cold,” I add.

“Is that why you’re shivering?”

“It’s one of the reasons.” I bite my lip.

“Let’s warm you up.” He drops his hand to my waist, smoothing his palm along my side before sweeping back up and over my chest, cupping my breast. “Your top is wet.”

“I know.”

“Should we take it off?” He’s asking permission, his fingers massaging my flesh and of course I nod my answer.

Reaching behind me, he grabs hold of the string tied at the back of my neck, gently tugging on it. It comes undone with ease, my top loosening, and within seconds, it’s gone. Leaving me completely exposed to him.

“I imagined this,” he admits, his gaze roving over my naked breasts. I’ve always considered them a burden. They’re large, they’re heavy, and my mom always sympathizes with me when I complain about them because I inherited them from her.

But the way he’s looking at me right now, as if I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, I don’t mind them at all. And when he cups one in his hand, rearing up to press his mouth to mine while his fingers work my nipple, I cry out against his lips. A jolt runs through me from his touch, from my breast to my core, and I lift into his touch, seeking more.

He gives me what I want, sliding down my body, mapping my skin with his mouth. Kissing my neck, my shoulder, my collarbone. Across my chest and downward, running his lips over one breast, then the other, avoiding my nipples.

Driving me out of my mind with need.

When he kisses my stomach, a surge of moisture floods my bikini bottoms, and I imagine him kissing me down there. Licking me. Searching every part of me with his tongue. A shudder moves through me and I spread my legs even wider, accommodating his body as he lies there between my legs, tracing a circle around my navel with his tongue.

Teasing me again, he shifts back up, his mouth finding my right nipple this time, pulling it into his mouth. He sucks it deep and I clasp his head against me, my fingers buried in his hair. He teases the bit of flesh with his tongue, pulling away to deliver the same attention to my other nipple. Alternating between the two, licking and sucking and nibbling, making me writhe beneath him.

I want more. I feel empty, like I need him inside of me. Running on pure instinct, I slide my hands across his shoulders. Down the smooth expanse of his muscled back. His skin is hot and firm, and when I reach the waistband of his swim trunks, I only hesitate for a moment before I slip them beneath the damp fabric, pressing him closer to me.

He groans into the valley between my breasts, lifting his head to study me with lust-filled eyes. I’m sure I have the same look of dazed wonder on my face, my chest rising and falling in tandem to my rapid breathing. “I don’t want to get carried away—”

I cut him off. “Don’t worry. You’re not.”

Rhett returns his attention to my stomach, his mouth gliding across my skin, making my inner walls clench. He drops tiny kisses along the top edge of my bikini bottoms and I’m shivering. Dying for him to put his mouth on me. I didn’t think we’d actually do this tonight but if he stops? I’ll be disappointed.

I don’t ever want him to stop.

He shifts downward, his hands going to the inside of my thighs, spreading me even wider and then his mouth is there, kissing one inner thigh, then the other. I can smell myself, and I know he can smell me too. I’m so turned inside out for him, I’m afraid I might come on the spot when he finally puts his mouth on me.

But he’s a tease. Kissing the inside of my knees before he lifts up, rising on his knees over me. I open my eyes to stare up at him, my gaze dropping to his erection straining the front of his trunks. Reaching out, I touch him. Draw my fingers along his length lightly before I wrap my fingers around him and he undoes the string of his swim trunks, reaching inside to pull his erection out.

I stare at it, shocked by its size. The wide head and the pearl of pre-cum filling the slit. I touch it, swipe it up with my finger and bring it to my mouth, tasting him for the first time. It’s faintly sour and I lick my lips, making him groan.

“You’re fucking killing me, princess,” he mutters, reaching for my bikini bottoms and tugging. “Let’s take these off.”

It’s a blur after that. We both end up naked and when he lies on top of me once again, we’re like a perfect fit. I can feel him nudge against me, seeking entry and again, I spread my thighs, allowing him to settle more firmly against me. He lifts up, curling his fingers around the base and he drags his cock up and down, pressing against my clit.

“Oh God,” I choke out.

“Feel good?”

“Do it again,” I demand.

He does, sliding up and down, over and over, before he tries to slip inside. I tense up, my hands flying to his shoulders, holding him off.

“Not yet,” I whisper, my gaze finding his. “Do you have protection?”

Rhett winces. “No.”

“That’s okay.” I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“You want to stop?” He sounds pained. He looks pained.

I shake my head. “We can do … other stuff.”

“Yeah?” His pain switches to hope.

“Yes.”

There’s no hesitation. He resumes his search of my body with his mouth and I feel like I’m melting into the mattress, it’s so good. He kisses me everywhere he can reach, touching parts of my body that I didn’t think were erotic, but oh my God, it feels so good. The inside of my arm. The side of my rib cage. At one point he grabs my wrist, licking each of my fingers and I want to die from how good it feels. From the look on his face. It’s as if he wants to devour every part of me and I’ll gladly let him. I want to be devoured. Worshiped.

Loved.

Maybe love isn’t part of the equation yet, but I can feel myself falling for him and I’m unable to stop it. I don’t want to stop it.

“You smell so good,” he murmurs against my lower stomach, his mouth close to where I want it. I don’t die of embarrassment when he says those words either.

And when he drifts his mouth lower, his tongue finding my heated center, a long, shuddery sigh leaves me. I’m such a cliché but …

I feel like I’ve died and gone straight to heaven.