Page 109 of Bad Reputation

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“It’s up to you.”

Her gaze flits to the top of my head, where my devil-horned headband pushes my thick hair back, keeping strands from falling into my eyes. “I like this.” She touches a horn.

“Yeah?”

She nods, and then swallows hard. “We can stay dressed, if that’s okay with you?”

“I’m good with that.” Honestly, a little relieved too. My brothers came home from college to celebrate my dad’s birthday last weekend. I’m still a little bruised and sore from their “brotherly roughhousing.” Hunter elbowed me in the back when I tried to bail on dishwashing duty. I can still taste the bar of soap he shoved in my mouth.

I just don’t want Willow to worry. I’ll tell her about it another night.

She’s quiet, still staring up at the devil horns on my head. I think she might be overthinking something else. So I just ask, “You okay?”

“Um…so I’m not ready to have sex,” she whispers. “But I think I could do more tonight.”

More.

Fuck. My muscles tense, head spinning. “Do you want me to make you come?”

She smiles. Like a fucking hundred-watt smile, brightening the whole room. “Yeah, I want that.”

Fuck. Yes.

I roll onto my side, elbow propped up on the pillow and hand supporting my head. Willow moves like she’s about to roll onto her side to face me. I press a hand to her belly. “Stay on your back,” I tell her.

She relaxes where she is, but she turns her head to face me. I’ve come to know a lot about her. She likes instructions. It takes this immense pressure off her from feeling like she has to already know what to do.

“Can I touch your clit?” I ask her.

“Mmmhmm,” she says, breathing through her nose again.

I smile and place a soft kiss on her lips. “That a yes?” I whisper against her mouth.

“Yes,” she squeaks.

I pull back to stare at her beautiful brown eyes again. “Can I put my fingers inside you?”

She pauses, hesitates, and I sweep her frame, gauging her reaction.

“Um…”

“That’s fine,” I tell her. “I don’t need to be inside you to make you come.”

Her mouth parts in arousal. “You can put them in me though,” she says quickly. “I was just thinking that it might hurt. I’ve only ever had one inside.”

One finger.

Fucking hell.

Blood rushes to my dick, begging me to ease into her. I grind down on teeth and bottle those urges. My hard-on strains against the fabric of my red pants, and I swallow down images of Willow fingering herself, which have definitely stormed my brain.

“Garrison,” she smiles a little like she can see she’s getting to me. “You okay?” She touches my jaw.

“Fuck,” I groan and then stare down the length of her. “I want to make you come so goddamn badly.”

“Then do it.”

My mouth drops a second in shock and desire, and her glittering smile reaches her eyes.

“That a demand?” I ask.

Her smile falters. “No. Of course, you don’t have to—”

Fuck. I kiss her again, stopping her from overthinking this to death. When I part from her lips, I say, “I’m going to make you come, but I’m only going to put one finger in you. How does that sound?”

She nods and relaxes more. I scoot closer to her, our legs tangled. But I’m still lying on my side while she’s on her back. I have a better view, and she has less chance of feeling my erection.

Our lips continue to explore each other, deepening, and while she loses herself to the moment, I skate my hand underneath the waistband of her panties.

Holy…

My fingers immediately dip into her wetness. Soaked. I skim the top of her swollen clit, and she shudders instantly. I barely rub her, and she breaks from my mouth with a soft cry. “Garrison.”

Fuckfuckfuck.

She buries her head into the crook of my chest, breath heavying as I make soft circular patterns over her sensitive flesh.

Moans breach her lips, and her eyes snap shut like her senses are overloading. Reboot and restore are not going to be in progress any time soon. Not until I give her the best orgasm of her fucking life.

I can’t believe she’s this sensitive with nothing inside of her.

It’s blowing my mind.

I press my thumb more firmly onto her swollen bud.

Her thighs tremble, and she lets out a whimper.

“I have you,” I say. “You’re alright.”

She starts thrusting against my hand. Arching her hips.

I don’t think she even knows what she’s doing because her eyes are closed, and she looks gone. But it’s like her body is calling out for a release. Calling out for me to fill her completely with my length and bring her to that peak. It’s like her body knows what it wants faster than her head.

But I’m listening to her head on this one.

Still, I watch her hips lift and lower in small throbbing waves. My body is set on blaze, and I ache to reach down my pants and release my one pent-up need.


Tags: Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie Romance