“Good girl.” I grip her chin and turn her face up to me. “That’s what you’re going to say to me all night. Every time I tell you something good. Are we clear?”
A shiver runs over her, even as I see that spark of defiance in her eye. The one I admire. I want to turn that spark into a whole damn fire so this girl goes out and does what she wants with her life.
“Fine.”
I let a smile touch my lips as I stare down at her. “Good.”
“Why are you smiling? It’s creepy. You never smile.”
I shake my head at her. “I smile. You just miss them because it’s when I’m staring at your ass. And I’m smiling now because I’m really looking forward to this.”
One of her shapely brows arches, and her glare moves down my torso to my crotch. “Yeah. I can see that.”
“I think you meant thank you.” Sliding my hand along her cheek and into her hair at the base of her neck, I crouch down and kiss her, tipping her head up to me. A deep rumble emanates from my chest when I feel how soft she is in my hands. How willing. How eager.
Her plush lips are supple beneath mine, and her warm hands are tentative as she brings them back to my torso and starts exploring.
Gooseflesh erupts over my skin everywhere she moves them, and I revel in her touch. In the years I’ve spent abstinent, I didn’t imagine it ever feeling this electric, this deeply necessary—natural, like I don’t even have to try with her. There’s just this spark. One we can’t see, but it’s been burning between us from day one.
“Thank you,” she murmurs against my lips, and I take that opportunity to slip my tongue into her mouth. To claim her and take my time with it. Not like the frantic kiss in the hay bales that ended in embarrassment. Not like the blow job edged in frustration on the front porch.
Just a private room and a full night ahead of us. Exactly what I need—what we need.
Our kisses are languid. No teeth clash, neither of us fumble. It’s been a long time since I kissed someone, but I remember early kisses being awkward, having to figure out a rhythm, the give and take that didn’t quite match up right.
But with Willa, that’s not the case.
Everything feels right. Except for . . .
“You’re wearing too many clothes, baby,” I say, pulling back to rest my forehead against hers as I reach down to the waistline of her jeans and pluck at the cotton shirt tucked in there.
In response she leans back and lifts her arms up above her head, staring me in the eye like this is some sort of challenge. I give her a small grin, liking the way she looks with her lips all puffy and wet. Her cheeks all pink. Her hair all mussed from my hands in it.
Fuck, another man touching her hair tonight was something that specifically crossed my mind. I don’t know why I got hung up on the image of someone else’s fingers trailing through her shiny copper strands. Someone with softer, more manicured hands. Someone with more money to their name. Someone with more to offer her.
I drop my gaze to where my hands are touching her, where they wrap around her waist, right on that milky skin I was trying to catch a peep of the first day she stepped on my property. “Is this okay?” I ask, wanting to be certain I’m not doing something stupid.
“Yes,” she hisses out almost desperately.
As I push my hands up her torso, the shirt bunches. It’s like unwrapping a present, revealing silky skin followed by a simple nude bra with a lace overlay, tits round and firm above the line of the cup that cuts across them. I peel the shirt over her head and drop a hand to flick the clasp on her bra, pulling it away and tossing it on the floor beside us.
I take a step back to appreciate her. She’s propped her hands behind her on the bed and is gazing at me with wide green eyes, a little intoxicated looking—but not on alcohol. Her breasts are full and heavy, dusky pink nipples erect and pointing right at me. Little silver studs adorn either side, sparkling in the light, and I want to fucking play with those.
I want to play with everything.
If Willa is the playground, I want to fucking play. Period.
“You are beautiful.” My eyes race over her form, illuminated only by the warm light of the small lamp beside her bed. “Fucking perfect. I knew you would be. But goddamn, Willa. You’re almost too much.”
The blush on her cheeks spreads down her neck and onto her chest. Being naked in front of me doesn’t make her uncomfortable, but hearing my words does. I click my tongue at her and when she looks back my way, I pin her with a scowl.