Page 185 of Where Broken Wings Fly

“Kiss me, angel.”

Her mouth secures itself to mine, softened by mutual nervousness. I don’t have the raw sexual confidence of the other two. This is all so new. Willow’s tongue hesitantly brushes against mine, her teeth lightly nipping my bottom lip.

Going with what feels natural, my hands travel to her hips. She’s grinding against me, each shift causing my dick to push harder into her core.When our lips break apart, her breathing is shallow and laboured.

“I don’t want to assume anything,” she blurts anxiously. “Maybe you don’t want to lose your virginity with me, or even at all, or you—”

“Willow,” I cut her off. “There is no one I want to share this with more than you. I’m just… hell, I’m a bit nervous. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Disappoint me? You could never.”

“I’m not exactly Zach or Killian.”

Her lips crush against mine. “That’s a good thing, Mi. I want you for who you are, and I love everything about you.”

Chest burning with emotion, I lift her from my lap and set her back on her feet. Willow kicks off her walking boots as I grab one of the sleeping bags from inside the tent and spread it across the smooth rock surface.

Holding eye contact, she begins to peel off her long-sleeved t-shirt. The fading sunlight unveils her golden skin and plain bra that she quickly tosses aside, freeing the generous swell of her breasts.

“You are so fucking beautiful.”

She smirks, pushing her jeans down. “Hardly.”

“Don’t you dare. Every inch of you is gorgeous.”

Jeans discarded, she’s left exposed in bra and panties, her skin lit by the glittering beams of sunshine disappearing from sight. I grab her hand and pull her closer, dropping a kiss on the slope of her stomach.

She inclines her head, lips parted on a breathy moan as I explore her body. There are faint, silvery stretch marks across her curvy hips, evidencing the birth of her little girl. I take time kissing each of them.

“Fucking beautiful,” I repeat.

Willow lets me pull her back into my lap. I find the elastic tie holding her long hair up and ease it out. Inky waves spill over her shoulders, and she moans as I smooth out the waves while massaging her scalp.

“Where should I touch you?”

Her lips part on a gasp. “I don’t know.”

“Tell me. I want to know.”

She groans when I sink my teeth into her earlobe and softly bite down. “I want you to kiss me down there. You made me feel so good last time.”

Pushing her backwards across the rock shelf, Willow splays out on the sleeping bag. I wrap a hand around her ankle, slowly kissing my way up her leg until I reach her panties. She wiggles her hips, helping me slide them off.

“Fuck, angel. Look at that wet pussy.”

Her back arches as my mouth meets the furnace between her thighs. She’s wet, her legs trembling with each flick of my tongue. I circle my fingertip over her bundle of nerves, loving the way she squirms.

“Talk to me, Willow.”

“Mi,” she groans. “I want your finger inside me.”

“Good. Keep going.”

Gathering moisture on my index finger, I drag my tongue through her folds, feasting on the sweet wetness of her arousal. I’ve barely touched her, and she’s tensing up already.

When I push my finger into her slit, she arches off the sleeping bag, leaning into my touch. I love how receptive she is. Her body writhes with each thrust of my digit entering her warmth.

“Mi,” she whimpers.

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