Perfectly Imperfect

I didn’t even realize it, but in just the last week, I’ve let go of almost every one of those negative habits. I eat normally. I don’t exercise myself to the brink of exhaustion, and I actually feel as if I could love the skin that I’m in.

My body, flush from his ministrations, has captured this man, and with his words, I see something I had never realized before. Where I’ve seen areas I hated, he’s seen ones that entice. I didn’t think that was possible—for what I now see as well-placed curves to seduce a man such as Kane.

A smile curves my lips, and I turn to Kane, his hungry gaze watching me. Waiting for me to make the next move, testing the waters with his silence to see how I’ll receive his words.

The old Willow, the one who let fear and insecurities rule her world, would have broken down at the first hint of intimacy. But now, with the confidence his actions have birthed in my mind, the last shreds of my haunting past fall to the wayside.

Reaching out, I place my hand on his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart. He doesn’t move, his eyes inviting me as they lure me. I take the step needed to bring me close enough so I can feel his warmth again. My hand on his chest slowly presses against his body as I trail south.

Keeping our eyes connected as my hand travels the length of his torso, I let the thrill of excitement fill my system when his jaw ticks and his head rolls back, and I finally lose sight of those cerulean orbs.

My other hand joins the seduction, and I wrap my fingers in the hem of his shirt, bringing it up and over his body. He lifts his arms and helps me remove the material, and when they fall back down, he places them on either side of my hips. His fingers dig in and a noise of pleasure echoes from his chest, tickling my breasts as they crush against his body.

“You’re awfully quiet for a man who had so much to say a few minutes ago,” I purr, the sultry sound of my voice making me want to high five myself. Way to go, Willow.

He pulls his lips in and rolls them together, his expression betraying the control he’s exhibiting. Witnessing what my touch does to him encourages me to continue. The way he pulled me to his body placed my hands against his chest and I use that as leverage to push myself away.

“Willow,” he bites out with a harsh breath, his eyes flashing with what looks like panic. Panic?

I quicken my pace, not only to reassure him, but also because I would be lying if I didn’t admit I’m slightly worried my newfound confidence is going to vanish at any second.

Reaching behind my body, I unhook my bra and pull it from my body. His fingers flex against my hips, his strength almost to a point of pain, but the touch showing me just how close he is to losing his control. He looks down, seeing my naked chest fully for the first time, and his tongue comes out to lick his lips.

There is no way his reaction isn’t honest. Talented actor or not, you can’t fake a body’s response like this.

My hands come back to his fevered tan skin, just above his pecs. I dig my fingers in, massaging up to his neck, and finally lace my fingers through the soft hair just past due for a cut at his nape.

Our eyes communicate our combined need for each other, and with our bare torsos pressed together, I lean up while pushing against his neck and bringing him toward my lips to kiss him with the consuming hunger I feel.

Our moans meet in a powerful rush. His hands move from my hips, inside my undone pants and down around to my ass. His fingers dig in roughly and grab hold as he thrusts his hips against me. It only takes seconds before the sounds of our excitement drown out the wet sounds of our kiss.

“I need to feel you, Willow.” He pulls away from my lips and presses his forehead against mine. “I will never take more than you can give me, but I’m ready to beg if that’s what it takes for you to let me feel the body I crave against mine.”

I feel the unforgiving hardness of each coiled muscle in his body pressing against the softness of my own. He forces my body even closer as he flexes his hips and thrusts against me. For a small second, I’m slightly nervous again, until I see just how tense his desire, for me, is making him. His whole body locked while his eyes plead with me.

“Trust me, God, trust me. Feel how much I want you.”

His hips rock again, the hard bulge of his erection hitting my stomach. My mind wanders, wondering what he feels when all his hard meets my soft. My breasts jiggle as my breathing speeds up. That panic I had been worried about slapping me in the face.

Can I do this? Can I allow myself to be stripped bare not just physically, but emotionally for this man? Let him see me completely? More importantly, do I trust myself and the fragile strength I’ve just gained? Am I ready to really, truly let him all the way in?

He holds his silence, but his hands tense against my butt, and I feel his heart speed up.

It’s as if he’s just as nervous that I’ll say no as I am that I’ll say yes.

Harper Sloan's books