Heartless (Chestnut Springs, #2)(66)

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.

“Thank you.” Her voice wobbles, but she gets it out all the same, looking fiery, chest heaving under the weight of her slightly labored breathing.

I smirk at her and she rolls her eyes but her lips tip up.

With a deep chuckle, I drop to my knees in front of her and reach for the chain belt looped into her jeans. “You want me to keep going?”

She scoffs playfully. “How many times does a woman need to proposition you before you know she wants you to keep going, Eaton? Like, do you really need to hear me keep saying it out loud?”

My eyes drop, and my hands shape her waist, sliding up to the base of her breasts. I breathe deeply around the heavy thud of the blow she just unknowingly delivered. When someone else chooses other men over you, I think you do need to hear it. At the very least, I want to hear it. Because Willa wanting me seems wholly unlikely. Totally crazy. Plus, hearing her say she wants it might be the sexiest thing in the world.

I lift my chin and gaze into her bright emerald eyes. “Yeah, Red. I really need to hear you say it out loud.”

Her lips pop open, and realization flashes in her eyes as she sits up straighter, hands reaching for me. When her fingers curve behind my ears and her palms rasp against my stubble, my eyes flutter shut.

Touching her feels incredible. But being touched? Fuck. I didn’t realize how badly I was missing this.

Her nails rake against my scalp, and this time she bends down to kiss me, so gently, so carefully.

Until she bites down on my bottom lip, squeezes my head in her hands, and says, “Cade Eaton, if you stop undressing me, I will absolutely lose my mind and hide in my bedroom every night touching myself while thinking about how fucking hot sucking your cock on the front porch was.”

“Jesus Christ, woman.” I pull back to look her in the eye with a little skip in my heart. “I won’t stop. But can I come watch that show sometime?”

The apples of her cheeks go round as she smirks back at me. “Definitely.” And then she’s kissing me again, ratcheting up the urgency. Her hands grip my neck, while mine work over her breasts. They’re soft and firm all at once, a reminder of her age if I let my head wander that way—but I don’t.

Instead, I just enjoy the little mewling noises she makes when I brush my thumbs over her nipples. When I pinch them, I push my tongue into her mouth and enjoy the way her hips rock in my direction, like she just can’t get enough.

It’s empowering. It’s like a fucking drug seeing how badly she wants me. And I break the kiss only because I’m not done playing with the rest of her body.

I know I’ll have lots of time to kiss her because I don’t plan to stop so long as she’s willing to let me have her.

“These fucking tits have featured in my dreams for weeks,” I say, sliding my mouth down her throat, pressing kisses to the little indent at the base of it and working my way along her collarbone. A lick to her slender shoulder sends a shiver through her entire body, and I smile to myself because her reactions are just so damn satisfying.

“Thank you.” Her head tips back, which makes her breasts press out in my direction like some sort of special offering.

It feels like everything is dialed up a zillion notches. Every reaction is stronger somehow. Every feeling magnified. I can’t explain it and maybe I don’t need to. Maybe the lesson here is that I just need to relax and let myself enjoy something for once.

Because I fully intend to enjoy Willa Grant.

My mouth latches onto one nipple, and she cries out instantly. “Ah! Don’t stop doing that, Cade.”

I suck harder and her body writhes. My opposite hand thumbs at the other nipple in a steady rhythm, the metal piercing adding a weight to it. My cock surges painfully against my jeans, and she’s not even totally naked yet.

“I’m a fucking goner for you, Red. Watching you squirm? Listening to you moan my name? What am I supposed to do now?” I trail my tongue across her sternum before latching onto the opposite breast, strumming at her wet nipple.

“Fuck me. You’re supposed to fuck me.” Her words are breathless, edged in desperation, and I love the sound, the vibration in her chest that I can feel against my lips.

I drop my hand and press it against the apex of her thighs. Even through her jeans, I feel the heat. I know when I peel all these layers back, she’s going to be fucking soaked.

For me.

“Is that so?” I lean back a little and press my thumb hard against the denim. “Right here, Red?”