Chapter 10 The Breakthrough #2
“So, were you still thinking of staying?” Iver asks hopefully, glancing toward the window. “I mean, the weather alone is reason to…”
“Yeah,” I reply, leaning forward to set my empty glass on the coffee table.
His face lights up. “Cool. I, uh…” he trails off, raking a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to be presumptuous, so you’ll need to tell me whether you want me to show you the guest rooms or mine.”
A coy smile curves my lips. “Yours.”
“I can do that,” he breathes, the tension draining from his shoulders.
I pick at a loose string on the hem of my t-shirt as an awkward silence descends upon us.
It’s silly– we’ve been snuggling up on the couch, making out during every commercial break…
but for some reason the idea of going upstairs with him has my stomach in knots, anxiety winding its way around my insides.
Iver raises a fist to his mouth and clears his throat, scrubbing a hand down his face before turning to me. “I’ve got a TV in my room. We could watch a movie in bed or something?”
“Iver,” I blurt as I reach over to cup his jaw, staring into his eyes intently. “That’s not what I want to do in your bed.”
There’s a flicker of silver in his blue irises as his wolf surfaces, Adam’s apple bobbing with a thick swallow.
He knows what I’m insinuating, and if the sudden flare of heat in his gaze is any indication, he’s on board.
Let’s just hope I can keep my demons at bay long enough to actually follow through this time.
Iver pushes up from the couch, turning at the waist and extending a hand to me. I place my palm in his much larger one, allowing him to pull me up to my feet.
“You’re sure?” he asks, giving me a pointed look.
I nod, blushing like crazy.
He tugs on my hand, and I swipe up my overnight bag and follow him to the stairs. My heart pounds harder with every step as he leads me up them, gaze transfixed on the way his back muscles shift beneath the tight fabric of his t-shirt.
Shit, are we really about to do this?
Yes, yes we are. I’ve set my mind on how I want this night to end, and I’m determined to see it through.
Iver leads me down the upstairs hall to the room at the very end, pushing open the door and gesturing for me to enter ahead of him.
My wide-eyed gaze combs over every inch of the suite as I step inside, identifying the exits first, then appreciating the impressive size of the space and the nice furnishings.
It’s neat and tidy, everything seemingly having its place.
The shades of blue that he’s decorated in are also oddly calming.
He steps in and closes the door behind us, taking my overnight bag from me and depositing it on the nearby dresser. Then he comes back over, reaching up to tuck a rogue strand of hair behind my ear.
“So,” he drawls, the brush of his knuckles against my cheek winding my stomach into knots of anticipation.
“So,” I repeat, smiling up at him.
He smiles back, those baby blues practically sparkling.
If I had my camera, I’d snap a picture right now so I could forever preserve that look in his eyes.
He’s not looking at me like I’m broken; like I’m some ticking time bomb waiting to explode.
He’s not looking at me like I’m defective.
He’s looking at me like I’m a gift from fate. Like I’m everything.
That look gives me all the bravery I need. I push up on my toes, adrenaline mingling with nerves as I crush my lips against his. They part with surprise, then press back against mine with equal fervor as he sinks into the kiss, claiming my mouth with his lips and tongue and teeth.
His hands find my own and he turns them over in a silent signal that he’s giving me control, warmth pooling in my belly as I grab on and bring them to my waist. Planting them there, I slide my hands up his chest and loop my arms around his neck, his fingers tightening their grip around my middle as he starts walking me backwards toward his bed.
He’s still kissing the hell out of me when the backs of my calves meet the edge of the mattress.
A shiver of anticipation races up my spine as I unwind my arms and press against his chest, breaking our kiss so I can strip off my shirt.
Then I grab for the waistband of his jeans, tugging him in close again and sealing my lips to his.
As anxious as I am, everything about Iver calms me.
The controlled precision of his movements.
The way he lets me take the lead.
I trust him enough to let go, and miraculously, alarm bells don’t sound in my head when his lips leave mine to trail down my neck, nor when he slides a hand up the curve of my spine.
With a single deft movement of his fingers, he unclasps my bra, his lips trailing down to my breast as it slips from my shoulders and falls away.
I gasp when his warm mouth seals over my nipple, burying a hand in his hair as his tongue swirls around the hardened tip.
“Iver,” I pant, my back arching.
He releases my nipple with a loud pop, eyes meeting mine as he rocks back. “Yeah, baby?”
That single word makes my insides turn to goo. Baby.
“Do you need to stop?” he asks, arching a brow.
I shake my head.
He palms my breast, staring deeply into my eyes. “Then what do you need, Chey? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”
“Take off your clothes,” I whisper.
The corner of his mouth kicks up and he reaches behind his back, grabbing onto his t-shirt and rucking it off over his head one-handed.
It’s a damn Magic Mike move if I’ve ever seen one, but his body puts those in the movie to shame.
Iver is all hard edges and chiseled muscle beneath that golden skin, tall and built and freaking gorgeous.
I peel off my jeans and panties before I lose the nerve, kicking them away as Iver shoves down his own pants.
His boxers come with them, his thick cock springing free, and I suck in a gasp at the sight of it, immediately followed by another deep blush.
Because even though I had his dick in my hand the other night, feeling it and seeing it are two completely different things.
It hangs heavy between his thighs as he reaches down to wrap a hand around his shaft, giving it a few lazy strokes as I drop down on the edge of the bed and his eyes zero in on the apex of my thighs. They blaze silver as his tongue darts out to wet his lips, gaze snapping up to meet mine.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he growls, the muscle in his neck straining.
My heart slams against my ribs as I scooch back on the bed and allow my knees to drop open, sliding a hand down my belly as I lay back.
Iver groans, his fist pumping harder as he eats me up with his gaze. “Can I taste you?”
A flood of heat rushes to my core. Sinking my teeth into my lower lip, I peer up at him through my eyelashes and nod, knees spreading further to invite him into the cradle of my thighs.
The mattress dips beneath his weight as he climbs onto the bed, heat licking up my spine while he settles himself between my legs.
His stubble rasps against my inner thighs as he leans in, eyes fixed on mine as he drags his tongue through my slit.
My whole body shudders at the contact, legs reflexively snapping closed around his ears.
Iver pulls back, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the crest of my thigh as he holds eye contact. “We can stop anytime you want to, Chey,” he reminds me.
“I don’t want to stop,” I pant breathlessly.
His lips curve into a grin. “Then I think I know what’ll help.”
My brows knit together in confusion as he suddenly shoves up and climbs away, flopping down on his back next to me.
“Get up here and ride my face, beautiful,” he murmurs, grabbing for my hand and giving it a little tug.
There isn’t an ounce of hesitation or resistance in me as I allow him to guide me upright, dragging me up his body by my thighs and positioning me over his face.
The coil in my belly winds tighter as I take in every hard plane of his physique from this new vantage point, his hands tightening around my hips.
He lowers me down, the warmth of his mouth covering my center and his tongue spearing into my opening.
“Oh!” I gasp, every muscle tightening, then going slack. “Oh…”
Waves of pleasure slowly build as Iver licks his way up to my clit and suctions his lips around it, my head falling back, the ends of my hair tickling my spine. It feels so good. So much better than I even imagined.
Liquid heat scorches my veins as Iver feasts on me, and while I should just be glad we’ve made it this far without me having a freakout, all I want is more, more, more. I crave this man with every fiber of my being, his every touch breathing new life into my body.
My eyes flutter open, fixing on his hardened cock resting against his thigh. Reaching for it, I wrap my fingers around his girth, pumping it in my fist as I slowly bend forward at the waist.
Iver grunts, the vibration sending a shockwave through my pussy, and I dart my tongue out to circle the velvety tip of his cock, his hips jerking at the contact.
He sucks my clit harder as I take him in my mouth, my thighs quaking as a growl rumbles from his throat.
It only encourages me to swallow him deeper, bobbing up and down as I find a rhythm that matches each caress of his tongue.
I lose myself in the motions, to the sensations. Pleasure builds like a storm, far more potent than the one currently raging outside his bedroom window. We could both finish like this, but I still want more. I need more, I need my mate.
Popping off his dick, I brace myself on my palms and lift my hips, looking back at Iver as I climb off his face.
He lifts his head and his eyes immediately come to mine, like he wants to make sure I’m okay.
I nod to let him know that I am, pinning my lower lip between my teeth as I shuffle down the bed, twisting around to face him and climbing over his lap.
His gaze turns molten as understanding dawns, his hands coming to rest on my thighs as I press my own to his chest. Then I slowly lower myself down, circling my hips until his tip notches with my entrance.
His fingers tighten around my thighs, but he doesn’t push.
He holds himself steady as I lower myself down onto his steel, squeezing my eyes closed as my inner walls stretch to accommodate his size.
It hurts.
My chest seizes at the bite of pain, a shot of panic ricocheting through me as my demons surface– but for the first time, I’m strong enough to bat them back. Because this isn’t Alpha Paul. This is Alpha Iver, my mate, and I want this. I choose this.
I’m in control.
My lashes flutter as I blink my eyes open to land on Iver’s stupidly gorgeous face. The muscle in his jaw flexes as he gazes up at me, his own eyes half-lidded and clouded with lust. My palms splay against his hard chest as I sink lower, taking more of him inside me.
All the air leaves my lungs when I’m fully seated, my inner walls straining to adjust to the intrusion.
Iver’s hands gently glide up to rest on my hips as I lift up halfway and drop back down, relishing in the friction of him inside me.
It’s not painful or scary. It feels way better than it has any right to.
I pick up my pace, bucking my hips as I start riding his cock, a wanton moan slipping from my throat.
“Fuck, baby, do that again,” Iver coaxes, his hands beginning to guide the movements of my hips. “Let me hear you.”
Another moan tears free as he hits a spot deep inside that has me seeing stars, thrusting up so my clit grinds against his pubic bone.
Little by little, I let go completely. My muscles loosen as I sink into the pleasure, needy cries leaving my lips without shame.
I never knew it could be like this, and now that I do, I don’t ever want to leave this moment.
I want to freeze it, savor it, because this is what it feels like to be free.
Iver curls upright, wrapping his arms around me and pulling my chest tightly against his.
Our mouths fuse, his lips searing his claim into me like a brand as our bodies grind to a frenetic rhythm.
I lose track of where mine ends and his begins, Iver’s heady masculine scent surrounding me as my orgasm builds and my mind goes gloriously blank of anything but pleasure.
The coil in my belly suddenly snaps, my body shaking as I erupt into my climax.
All I know is pure, unadulterated bliss as I ride out wave after wave, moaning as Iver kisses my neck, his hips stuttering.
Warmth floods my core as he empties inside me with a throaty groan, joining me in the sweet rapture of release.
Our panted breaths mingle as we both come back down, his grip around me relaxing as I settle against his heaving chest. His fingertips trace gentle circles over my back as he presses kisses to my hair, whispering words of adoration as I slowly come back into myself.
He tells me I’m perfect, and in this moment, I actually believe him. Because what we just did felt transcendent. I feel like a whole new woman; a phoenix reborn from the ashes of my past.
Pressing my palms to his chest, I push back, lifting my chin to smack a kiss against his lips. “Mine,” I declare triumphantly.
His wolf flares in his irises as he grins back at me, his arms tightening their possessive hold. “Mine.”