Page 18 of The Air I Breathe

"I want it all." Her hands go to my cheeks, where she holds my face still as she devours my mouth, taking this kiss.

Surprise rolls through my stomach as she wraps her arms around my neck, giving herself over to me. My hands move up underneath her shirt, palming her breasts as she rolls into me. Her nipples peak and I press her back into the couch, propping myself up. Putting my head in my palm, I play with the edges of the shirt, inching it up again. Once her bra is on display, I lift my eyes to hers, a smile twitching against my lips. "You care if I play?"

Her eyes burn bright as I push the shirt off her body and over her head.

"I love the players." She grins.

"And I love the game." I grin back at her.

Chapter Fourteen

Willa

Never in my life have I been this turned on. I'm not a prude by any means. I've been known to get on my knees when a boyfriend asks, or to let him tie me up. All of that has been fun. But this, with Blake? It's something completely different than I've experienced before. Maybe it's the intensity, of the way he seems to care for me, or just maybe it's the fact that I'm so attracted to him and everything he represents. I get the feeling he wants to be the man standing next to me, not in front of me—and fuck, if that's not attractive.

"What are you waiting for?" I raise my eyebrow in challenge toward him.

Heat darkens his gaze. He's obviously not in a hurry as the fingers of the hand not holding his head up brush against my collarbone then move down toward the swell of my breasts. I want his touch so much, I almost beg for it. But he doesn't make me wait too long. Once he gets to the top of my bra, he curls his hand up, sticking two fingers into the lace cup, pulling it down to expose my flesh.

"You're fuckin' flawless."

I laugh, because there's nothing else I can do. "People have legitimately picked me apart for years, Blake. Thank you for that. I spent a lot of time wondering what was wrong with me."

"Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. Those people are unhappy in their lives, and they think it's cool to break down people on the Internet. Do not ever hide any of this from me."

Uncharacteristic tears pop into my eyes. This has been one of the things I've been most vulnerable about. As a teenager everyone always talked about my small chest and how I was tall with no curves. It did a lot, and none of it good, to change the way I felt about myself. While I have overcome a lot of that now, it's something I struggle with—just not daily any longer. "I won't." I swallow roughly as his fingers dip below the edges of the material to scissor around my nipple. Hissing, I press up into him, feeding him my flesh inch by inch.

"Close those eyes, Willa. Lean back your head, and let me make you feel good."

I trust him, probably more than I should. But I do it anyway. I give myself over to him and let him do as he's asked. I relax back into the couch and close my eyes.

"Yeah, just like that. If I do anything you don't like, tell me, yeah?"

My mind goes back to the time I had to sue someone over touching me because I didn't give them my consent. To know this man is cognizant of me telling him if I don't like his touch or not is everything. "I will. Thank you."

The heat of his breath causes goosebumps to raise along my body. "Of course. I'm gonna do a few things I've been thinking about for weeks now. Good with you?"

"Great with me."

Dropping his head from his palm, he moves his body so that he's half lying on me, half on the couch. I've never been so happy I bought such a big couch as I am right now. His warm breath bathes my skin as he trails his mouth down my flesh until his lips close around my peaked nub. I reach down, tangling my fingers in his hair, pulling him tighter to my body. Pressing up toward him, I arch into his touch, moaning as he nips slightly before tonguing the sting away. Wrapping my arm around his neck, I thrust toward him.

"Don't stop, Blake. Please."

He moves the other cup down, hooking it below my breast, exposing me to his gaze. One nipple is in his mouth, and he palms the other one, and I'm on fire as he moves so that he's able to reach me with ease. Spreading my thighs wider, I groan when he settles there, his cock hard and long. I reach down, grabbing hold of the length, moving it so that he can be more comfortable.

He moans deeply, pulling back. "Fuck, you feel good."

"You do too. Do more," I beg, digging my fingers into his hair.

It's as if that move changes things between us. Gone is the man who has all this patience. He starts moving quicker, twirling his tongue around the nub without stopping, then pinching with his teeth. He thrusts into my pussy, rubbing his cock against the part of me that wants him the most. "It would be so easy for me to stop taking things slow. What do you want?"

It's important for me to have this choice, and I think he knows that. When I was younger, I wasn't given a choice. A man took that choice for me, and even though he didn't physically rape me, he emotionally did, and then accused me of ruining his life. Since then my decisions have meant everything. My choice is one of the most important things someone can give me. "I want it all, and I don't want to take our time anymore tonight. Are you okay with that?"

"I'm more than okay. Hold on, because I'm about to show you what a professional football player can do when he puts his mind to it."

Perfect. I've never been so excited to have someone show me what they could do. He hooks his hands around my thighs, separates them, and comes up on his knees in one fucking move. It's hot as hell, and it causes me to sit up slightly. His hands move up, grab my shorts at the waist, and pull them down. I kick with my feet, and somehow get them off without him having to move too much. When the cool air caresses my bare flesh, I realize he's got my panties off too. He throws them over his shoulder and wolfishly grins at me as he dives between my thighs.

"Oh, fuck..."