As the night wore on, she wanted more and more not to leave this place. All of the messages the pack had been giving her seemed to make perfect sense for the first time. She was his, and he was meant for her. Somehow during the fiasco with her new moon, she’d never once thought of it that way. That some part of this would be for her. She’d let her tainted past eschew her present life. He would be all hers, not Amy’s, or some other woman who could never challenge him or make him happy like she could. Lyonis was hers.
With her newfound discovery, Willow pulled back to tell him that she was ready to accept him. But as she looked around the room, she realized the dance floor was completely empty except for them, and the band had packed up and gone home. Even the bar was closed.
“Oh, I didn’t realize we’d been here so long.” She might have blushed but her cheeks were already flushed from the romance and excitement of the evening. Lyonis never stopped swaying her side to side as he looked down at her. He looked so relaxed and happy, like that first time she’d met him in Spain.
“It’s no problem. I know the owners, but if you’d like we can go.”
Willow bit her lip as she thought about it, but finally nodded. She didn’t want to leave and break the spell that surrounded them. But she had to wake up sometime from her dream.
Lyonis drove them home. The ride was comfortably quiet, the sky deep with night. Their hands once again held each other as lovers might. With a small smile, she thought it fitting since they were lovers. He pulled up to the cabin and opened her door for her. The world spun around her and she giggled feeling light and carefree for the first time in a long time.
This time he pulled her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs to the bedroom. Willow flushed with excitement, her blood pumping with arousal at the sight of the bed. He laid her on it and slowly pulled off one heel then the other.
“I love the way they look on you,” he commented as they hit the floor.
“I love the way that suit looks on you.” She mentally highfived herself for speaking an intelligent sentence. The first one all night.
He reached for the bottom of her dress and slowly pulled it up her body, baring inches of naked skin shadowed in the night. The dress came over her head then he laid it on the dresser by the door. His eyes swept over her, taking in the white lace panties she’d worn and the matching white bra. It wasn’t something she usually wore but tonight she didn’t feel her Curious George boy shorts went well with the dress.
He scrubbed a hand over his mouth then strode towards her. Willow held her breath as he leaned down. Tonight she’d do anything for him, with him. Parts of her body he’d promised to touch and learn tightened instinctually.
But he didn’t touch. Instead he pulled down the bedspread and tucked her under it. Willow stared at the comforter in confusion as he began taking off his suit.
“I’m not cold.”
He chuckled hoarsely. “I didn’t think you were.”
“But then why...?” He took everything off until he was left in a snug black pair of boxer shorts that hugged the muscles of his thighs and hips like a second skin. Willow’s mouth pooled with saliva, and her sex grew wet.
“You’ve been drinking. We’ll wait until morning when you’ve sobered up a bit.”
Willow frowned with disappointed. “What? No way. I need you now.” Understatement of the year. She’d been aroused since they left for the evening, and through the night as he held her close, their bodies brushing together, she’d grown more and more excited. She wanted this now more than ever.
He pulled down his boxer shorts and Willow groaned. His cock was at half-mass as if deciding whether to go fully erect or not. The thatch of hair at the base of him was slightly darker than the locks on his head. It framed him in a teasing way like a ribbon or bow around a present. He walked through moonlit room to the other side of bed and got in. She got a flash of bare, tight butt and moaned again.
He turned to her with a tight look around his eyes. “Stop that. Do you know how hard it is to resist you?” He sighed heavily and slammed his head back against the pillow.
Willow’s brow cocked as a naughty smile crept over her. He watched her with growing worry as she scooted closer until she touched his side.
“What are you doing?” He looked at her as if she carried some contagious disease that spread via touch. Willow wasn’t insulted, in fact quite the opposite. She tossed her leg over his, an arm across his broad chest and rested her head against his shoulder.
“Just getting ready for bed.”
“Uh huh,” he said doubtful.
Willow waited a few minutes but when he never relaxed she decided, what the hell. She reached behind her and took off her bra, then pressed herself against his side. Her breasts kissed his side, nipples turning to hard points at the scalding heat of his skin.
Her lips found the smooth skin of his neck and pressed soft teasing kisses there. She felt his pulse leap then race under her lips and she smiled. When she still received no reprimand, no orders, she sensuously rubbed her leg up and down his. She loved the feel of the hard muscle, the light dusting of hair that teased her smooth skin. She lifted her leg until she bumped his groin. His cock was a hard pole standing and straining.
Willow brought her hand into the mix. She rubbed the muscle at his arm, the round curve his shoulder, and down to the flat peak of his nipple. He stiffened beneath her, growing still as a statue. Though this statue was breathing heavily, his pulse erratic under her lips.
She flicked out her tongue and tasted his skin, licked his rapid pulse. Slid her hand down his chest. He sucked in a deep breath and caught her wrist.
“Go to sleep, Willow.” His voice was a hoarse whisper in the soft night.
Willow shook her head. “I already told you I need you, Lyonis.” She ended her sweet call by sinking her teeth into his throat just like he’d done so many times to her. The bite wasn’t hard, but gentle and unrelenting as she bit down. He let out a brief cry that melted her inside and out.
Then suddenly she was flipped onto her back. He leaned over her, gave her a hard frustrated look that made her grin, then he slammed his mouth down to hers and kissed her.
He kissed her hard, lips meshing and angling as his tongue fought its way inside her mouth and thrust again and again. Willow was caught up in the storm, soft moans leaving her throat. She thrust her fingers into his hair and held on to him as he swept her up, fogged her mind with passion.
The first touch startled her, branded. He didn’t build up to it, simply palmed her breast with his big hand. Her breasts weren’t the biggest but the way he shaped and squeezed her made her feel luscious and sexy. He tugged on her nipple, sending warmth and arousal through her body like a drug.
Only after she was moaning and arching into his hand did he give her one last pinch before sending his hand down her stomach. He passed her belly button then slid over her panties to boldly cup her. She was wet and knew he felt it. He rocked his hand against her, his big palm cupping her, possessing her like a master to his slave.
He pulled back from her mouth. His eyes were heavy with arousal, lips wet, cheeks flushed. Willow wanted to paint this memory of him into her mind forever. So that on days when she was sad or unhappy she could remember him like this, dazed with passion because of her, and feel whole and good again.
“Your pussy’s wet for me.”
His language was crude but it fueled the fire inside her. She nodded at him. He continued to rub his hand over her, never breaching the surface of her panties where she so desperately wanted him.