38. IVY
38
IVY
His words should have repulsed me. Instead, I was suddenly—and acutely—aware of his body, so close to mine that I could feel its heat.
I shouldn’t want anyone like Grayson. Rationally, I knew that. I should want Kyle. Safe, simple, uncomplicated Kyle. I could picture it all—morning coffees, lazy Sundays reading in bed, grocery shopping on the same day each week like clockwork. Hosting cozy dinners for the same rotation of friends and family. It would be a good life, a content one.
And yet it wasn’t until I saw Kyle that I realized just how strong my magnetic pull to Grayson was.
Love, it seemed, was sometimes illogical and unwanted. The old me would have been satisfied with the secure routine Kyle offered. But that was before I’d experienced the thrill of fireworks igniting the night sky.
How do you go back to darkness once you’ve witnessed that burst of light and color?
You don’t. You crave those fireworks, every second of every day, and seeing Grayson’s barely contained jealousy and anger at the thought of me with another man should have sent me running. Instead, it only intensified my forbidden desire.
Still, I shouldn’t want him. I shouldn’t fantasize about his hands over my body, his mouth between my thighs as he watched me come on his mouth.
Grayson’s face darkened, his mouth distractingly close to mine.
“If another man touches you while you’re under my protection,” he continued, “I’ll empty my gun into his eye socket.”
My hand shot up to slap him, but he caught my wrist before my palm hit his cheek, holding it firmly as his gaze raked over my face, setting my nerves aflame.
Then, his mouth was on mine, hot and demanding.
I tried to stifle my moan of pleasure. I really did. But the intoxicating heat of his kiss demolished my flimsy defenses. My back arched involuntarily, pressing my aching breasts against the hard wall of his chest.
In one final, pathetic attempt to push him away, I yanked my wrist free and slammed both palms against his chest. Grayson’s muscles were so tense, he didn’t even move an inch; instead, he opened his mouth, slipping his tongue against mine.
Again, I moaned, opening my mouth wider for him.
“Tell me you don’t want me to touch you, Kitten,” he taunted, his lips brushing mine as he spoke.
“I…” I can’t.
When I didn’t speak those words, I could feel his lips curl into a smirk as he brought his hand to my breast, my nipple betraying my lie by instantly hardening as I gasped. Deepening his kiss, Grayson slid his hand down my stomach, slipping it beneath my jeans and panties.
And slid a finger between my thighs.
“Your body wants this, Kitten,” Grayson accused smugly as I moaned.
Instantly, nothing mattered except his mouth on mine, his hand between my legs. I wanted him to rub me where I needed it, but he kept his finger furiously away from my aching spot, his kisses trailing down my jaw and neck.
“He could never satisfy you like I can,” Grayson said.
I know…
He flicked his finger over my sensitive bud, making my head fall back as he rubbed merciless circles around the swollen nub. Pleasure radiated through me, coiling tighter with each flick. I needed him—all of him—inside of me, claiming me.
“Tell me to stop,” he challenged darkly.
Stop. One word, and this would all end.
Say it, Ivy.
But then he thrust a finger deep inside me, and all rational thoughts fled. I clutched his biceps, my knees threatening to buckle, as he added a second finger, pumping slowly. His thumb never ceased its tortuous circles on my sex, and I could feel my climax building embarrassingly fast.
“Let me show you what a real man can do, Kitten.” His low rasp sent more heat between my legs.
Grayson pumped in and out, swirling my bud with this thumb, as my fingers clutched his arms so tightly, I wondered if he’d have bruises after this. His lips crushed mine again as he worked the space between my thighs until an orgasmic wave rose higher.
My hips jerked. I was so close, teetering on the knife’s edge. Just a little more, and I’d?—
He withdrew abruptly, a seductive growl escaping his throat as he peeled off all my clothes with such force, I feared they would tear.
I let him.
I also let him push me back up against the wall, kneel, and throw my left thigh over his shoulder. His angry expression locked with mine as he trailed a scorching path of kisses from my inner thigh toward my aching, moist center.
Just before he placed his mouth where I needed it, an unspoken moment passed between us as I stood here, completely exposed to a man who I should fear. A gun was still tucked in his waistband as he trailed a fresh line of kisses on the inside of my inner thigh and around my sex.
I whimpered, my hips shifting with need.
“Hold still,” he commanded, making me wait for it. Torturing me with being so close to what I needed but holding it at bay, just outside my reach.
“Eyes on me, Kitten,” he ordered as he finally drew his mouth to my center.
The first swipe of his tongue along my sex made my hips jerk.
Holy crap.
His stubble scraped deliciously against my sensitive skin as he swirled his tongue around and around, never breaking eye contact, while that ache in my lower belly grew higher and higher. Grayson’s mouth was pure sin, knowing just how to stoke the flames inside me.
It was too much, too intense. I began to twist, but his hand clamped around my thighs, holding my center to his mouth.
“You taste so good, Kitten,” Grayson groaned, the vibration making me gasp.
Then, he sealed his lips around my sensitive bud and sucked hard, until I nearly screamed. My thighs trembled, my back arching.
Holding my thighs, he tugged my sex harder against his mouth as he worked his tongue up and down, and then, with a smoldering intention firing in his gaze, he plunged his tongue inside of me.
The back of my head hit the wall again as he moved in and out, his nose hitting that perfect sweet spot with his every thrust.
Grayson’s mouth explored me with maddening skill, his tongue a delicate yet powerful weapon stoking the flames of my desire. I fisted his hair while his groan vibrated against my sensitive flesh as he feasted on me, pushing me toward a precipice I both craved and feared. Coming on the face of a man who should be my enemy was wrong.
And yet it’s all I wanted, all I craved right now.
I’d never had a man do this to me before. I never imagined a tongue could feel this good, but it was a delicate alternative to feeling all of Grayson inside of me. When he groaned, he pulled his tongue out and moved his mouth back to the top of my sex, swirling and sucking the sensitive bud.
My orgasm began building even faster, my hips bucking and squirming. Maybe that’s why he paused for a moment to remove the gun—maybe he was worried it was at risk of discharging, but whatever the reason, he set it on the ground. The dark gleam of it was a stark reminder of who he was. Of the danger pulsing between us, as palpable as the ache he’d ignited in my core. I should end this insanity now, reach for that weapon and reclaim control.
Instead, I parted my thighs even wider in silent invitation, my pulse hammering as his eyes flashed with hunger and approval. Gripping my hips almost painfully, he consumed me, commanding my pleasure as ruthlessly as he did everything else.
Pressure built unbearably until it finally crested and broke.
“Grayson…”
His intense gaze seared me, demanding I come hard for him as I shattered, helpless to resist the devastating ecstasy. I rode ripple after ripple of my climax on his beautiful, dangerous mouth.
When I was done, Grayson pulled his mouth away, stood up, and took his clothes off.
“On the bed.”
I gladly obeyed, forgetting for a moment why I’d fought this drug.
“Now, turn over.”
The dominance in his tone shot a fresh jolt of heat inside my core, needing to feel him between my legs as I turned onto all fours. I moaned when he grabbed my thighs and pulled my lower half off the bed, planting my feet onto the ground. He stood behind me and lined himself up at my entrance.
Teasing. Tormenting me in the best possible way. One large hand engulfed my shoulder as he pushed halfway inside of me, my body struggling to accommodate his impressive girth. I fisted the bedspread as he pulled out to the tip but only came back in halfway.
“Tell me what you want, Kitten.”
“Please,” I whimpered, pride in tatters. “I need all of you.”
Grayson thrust his hips forward so hard, I panted as he filled me completely, my body stretching around him.
I moaned louder as Grayson pounded his hips, taking me with punishing force. It was primal, animalistic, and I reveled in it.
He moved his hand from my shoulder to the back of my neck, pushing my turned head into the bedspread as he took his anger out on my body. In the most beautiful, intoxicating way.
Another wave began rising, and when I turned my chin slightly, looking back at the raw carnality on his face as he held me down and took me from behind, it grew tenfold. Here I was. Completely naked, my legs on the ground, chest held against the bedspread by a killer as he buried himself inside of me.
Dark hair. Commanding jaw, eyes like sun-dappled leaves, and taut muscles. He was stunning, and my body, it responded to his every touch, every thrust. The ache in my thighs rose even higher, and Grayson stared at me with expectancy, sensing I was about to crash over.
“Grayson…”
When I moaned into my orgasm, he watched the ecstasy on my face as every last ripple washed over me.
Until, finally, he groaned against his own release, pounding a few last times before stilling.
We lay there for a moment, breathless. Panting. Sweaty.
It was when he pulled his body away from mine that my hormones stopped clouding my judgment, and my heart thundered wildly against my rib cage.
What had I just done?
I just had sex with my father’s killer.
No amount of counseling would untangle this screwed-upness—I’ll tell you that.
But the worst part was that I didn’t fully regret it. I should be repulsed at myself, at him. And I was, but not to the appropriate degree.
A litany of self-loathing thoughts circled my brain as I redressed quickly, then draped my arms over my stomach.
“This meant nothing.” I tried to keep my voice firm, convincing.
Grayson’s mouth tugged up on one side, knowing me well enough to detect my lie as he grabbed the gun and stuffed it into the back of his waistband. Then, he tilted my chin up with a finger and brushed a mockingly sweet kiss to my forehead.
“When you’re ready for another round of ‘nothing,’ you know where to find me.”
With that, he turned and strode out to keep his post outside the door, leaving me to deal with the fallout of my actions alone.