Chapter 64 BATTLING DESIRES (1)
GALLAHAN’S POV
I was truly at her mercy.
Letting her lead and do things her way and at her own pace was maddening and was a fucking torture.
But I had to do it.
It was the only way I could think of that would help her relax and be comfortable with doing something so intimate with me.
But fucking hell.
It was so hard to reign myself in from taking over just to have a go at tasting and touching every inch of her body. There were simply a lot of sinful things I wanted to do to her and with her.
And yet, I couldn’t.
I still tried to enjoy what I was given at the moment, though.
The way she kissed me, prodding her tongue in eagerly.
The way her palms run along the expanse of my chest and abdomen.
The way she unconsciously pressed herself down on my cock, her hips repeatedly making subtle forward and backward movements.
And the way she just existed for me to marvel over.
But then she suddenly stopped kissing me, leaving me feeling absolutely bereft and mildly confused.
Then she got on her knees, and I nearly busted my load prematurely just by the mere sight of it. And when she gave a slow lick on the tip of my prick? I swore I saw a glimpse of heaven.
Fucking hell.
Fire was burning me from the inside out.
My breath was ragged. The sheets had to receive the brunt of my frustration as I clutched to it desperately, my knuckles white and my arms taut.
I didn’t need a mirror to know just how pink my neck and face must’ve gotten from my effort to keep myself still. To resist grabbing her hair and fucking her mouth hard and fast.
To take her and make her mine the way I had imagined in my head countless times.
Fuck. I hadn’t been intimate with anyone since I had claimed Willa.
So just one lick was already too much.
I was too wound up, making me quite certain I wouldn’t last long.
So I had to stop her.
“Don’t,” I pleaded pathetically.
Thankfully, Willa seemed to have heard me. She immediately stopped, her mouth hovering less than an inch away from the tip of my dick.
Still, the torture continued. The image of her—all knelt down between my legs, her soft pink lips near my cock, a delicate hand around my shaft, her other hand slipped beneath her dress to touch herself—was driving me insane.
Heat pooled around my navel, and my fucking balls were all tensed up and honestly aching for what her mouth could do.
It didn’t help how her slow and measured breath continued to ticklishly fan my prick.
But I really can’t finish too soon. Not now. Not when I was supposed to knot her, and not when she was supposed to bite me.
So I said, urgently this time, “Not this. Anything but this.”
I didn’t know what was so bad about what I had just said, but it seemed like it had pressed the wrong button in Willa.
Her defenses were up in a second, and she had become frostier than the northern mountains of Moonshire during the harshest of winter.
I swallowed thickly, heart thundering loudly.
How did I always end up saying the wrong thing when it came to her?
“Willa, I didn’t mean it the way you’re thinking. It’s just-”
“It’s okay,” she interrupted, her soft voice holding an icy and detached note. She then dropped her hold on my cock, rose to her feet and said, “Let’s just get down to the core of this business.”
I tried to shrug off how she offhandedly called this thing between us as ‘business,’ but it was a little hard when it already sent a knife to my chest.
“But you haven’t even prepped yourself yet,” I argued, watching her with concern as she slid her underwear down her legs and shuck it off carelessly.
She then returned to straddle on my lap but not quite sitting just yet.
“It’s fine,” she brushed off my concern quietly, lifting her dress until it crumpled around her mid-thighs. “I am already sufficiently wet for what we are about to do.”
“Hey,” I said carefully, caution and gentleness loud in my tone, as if I was trying to soothe an irritated beast. I also allowed myself to touch her, lifting a hand to tuck the stray strands of her hair behind her ear. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“I can take it,” she insisted, evading my attempt to caress her cheek. “It’s nothing I haven’t had in me before.”
I dropped my hand back on the bed and resumed gripping the rumpled sheets as if I had every intention of ripping them to pieces.
“Do as you wish,” I replied, all resigned and defeated, knowing that my attempt to dissuade her would only exacerbate the situation and push her further away.
Did I make her feel unwanted?