32. Ivy
Ivy
“ I need your help. Please, Ivy.”
Those were the last words I heard from Hawke before he hung up.
I’m still kind of pissed at him and my lack of understanding of what’s happening between us.
But I’ve never heard him sound so desperate, either.
Something serious must have happened. So here I am, at his mansion.
I walk up to the entrance and open the door that’s already unlocked.
“Hawke?!” I yell out, unable to keep the bite from my tone. “You better have a good fucking reason for this!”
I go straight to the kitchen, surprised he’s not in here, and put down my purse. I try the next best thing—his home gym. “Hawke?!” I call again.
“In a minute!” he frantically shouts back from upstairs, and a wave of relief passes through me at hearing him finally reply.
This house is too fucking big to be so silent.
I walk back into the kitchen to get a bottle of water, but a box on the counter grabs my attention.
I pick it up, flipping it back and forth in my hand before opening it. Inside, I find little blue pills.
Is that…?
No, surely not.
I pull out my phone to search what Viagra looks like, and a picture of exactly what I’m holding right now appears.
Why the fuck does Hawke have Viagra?
His larger-than-life energy hits the room before he does. When he appears, I’m holding up the packet. “You need help these days?” I ask.
He’s still half soaked, obviously having just come from the shower, and a towel is wrapped around his waist, his cock straining behind it. I swallow, an immediate heat swarming in my lower stomach at how much I miss his cock; and it’s only been a few weeks.
“It won’t go down,” he says, freaked out. Realization dawns, and I can’t help but throw my head back and laugh. “Don’t laugh, Ivy! This is serious! What if I lose my dick?”
“Are you trying to tell me you’re taking Viagra now?” I try to say it without laughing.
“No. But one of the guys was selling them at the gym and, you know… after you were saying stuff that night…” He looks at the floor. “I don’t know. I thought I should try them.”
I bite my bottom lip. “Oh shit. I didn’t think you took that seriously. You know I was only giving you shit, right? You have plenty of stamina.”
“Yeah, I know that!” he says agreeably. I try not to laugh. There’s something wholesome about a guy this big taking what I said so personally. And here I thought nothing could shake his ego. “I just wanted… I don’t know, it’s dumb.”
I fold my arms over my chest, now feeling partly responsible but also a little pissed. “Hawke, did you call me over for a blow job?”
“You’re the only one I know who can get me off in seconds,” he explains. When Billie said he needed a friend today, I don’t know if she was implying this or something else, but Hawke seems very much okay to me right now.
I put the box on the counter. “Well, sorry about your dick, but goodbye.”
“No, please. Ivy,” he begs, racing over to me and pinning me against the counter. “I’ll give you anything you want.”
My devilish grin breaks free. “Really? Anything?”
“Anything,” he breathes desperately. “Please make me come. I don’t want to lose Hawke Junior.”
I try not to laugh at the stupid nickname. “Even if I make you wear a collar and leash at our next party and walk you around in front of all our friends?”
He groans in complaint, and I push past him to walk away. “Wait! No, okay.” He grabs my wrist and pulls me against his chest. “ Please. You’re the only one.”
My heart falters, and it shouldn’t betray me in such a way, especially considering the circumstances.
“How many did you take?” I ask, looking down at the big problem.
He shrugs a little and looks away. “Three.”
“Three?!”
A nervous laugh escapes him now. “I thought because I was bigger, the normal dose wouldn’t be effective. And so I wanted to try it, but I’ve been beating it out for thirty minutes already.”
I snort, trying to contain my laugh, and his devilish grin matches mine. “You think this is so funny, don’t you? You should be punished for that.”
“Okay, well, it was nice to see you. I’m going now,” I tease again. “I’m sure you can find someone else to help with that situation.”
“Yeah, you.” He nods, pressing his hard cock against me. My pussy starts pounding, and I struggle with any restraint as I look between us.
“What do I get out of this?” I purr as I trace my fingers against the edge of his towel. His breath hitches as he watches me tease him.
“What do you mean, what do you get? You get me. Making you scream my name,” he replies arrogantly.
“Nah, I think I’m good.” I go to push past him, but he presses his weight firmly against me, all his games done with. Oh, he must be hurting.
“Little tracker.” His tone is a warning. “You aren’t allowed to leave until my cock has gone down.”
I dance my fingers feather-light against his chest and then bring them up to cup his cheek.
His eyes search mine desperately, forever with that mischievous twinkle.
The games we taunt one another with. The back and forth.
The wins. It’s always rushing to the surface when I’m with Hawke.
“Only if you agree to wear the collar and leash at the next party. Otherwise, your hand is gonna get a good workout.”
He looks to the ceiling and curses under his breath. “Fine. Promise.”
I raise my pinkie, victorious, as he hooks it with his. Then he grabs me under the ass and lifts me onto the counter. My heart is pounding from the way he looks at me, promising to devour with the urgency of saving his cock, which just so happens to be this man’s life force.
“You so better make me scream,” I say as I flick off his towel and look at the formidable opponent. His cock is very hard, and I wonder if it’s actually painful, considering he just popped Viagra like it was candy.
“I’ll do worse than that,” he promises as his hands move to the hem of my dress, and he slowly drags his fingertips over my skin, lifting the material past my hips and exposing my black panties.
I reach for his cock and clamp my fist around it.
“Fuck,” he curses as it twitches in my hands.
“Fuck, you always feel so good. Taste good too,” he says with a smirk as he drops to his knees, letting my hand fall to my side as he leans in and then bites my left hip.
As he pulls back, he takes my panties with him and then proceeds to drag them down my legs.
I thought we were here for him, but I’m all for how Hawke always worships me, even when he’s in a very compromising situation.
Not once has this man had sex with me and only thought of satisfying himself.
He proceeds to pepper my stomach with kisses and then drags his tongue lower.
One thing Hawke is amazing at is pleasing a woman.
And he knows it. He always takes his time with a woman’s body and treasures every inch of it, not just with his hands but with his mouth as well.
I think it’s one of the reasons I’ve always struggled with other men, and I compare them to him.
Not that I would ever tell him that; he doesn’t need any help in the ego department from me, that’s for sure.
His tongue moves lower to my slit, and he slides it between my folds.
A moan escapes me as I bunch the dress in my fists.
I’m already soaking wet for him. So while I enjoy his mouth being between my legs, my body is aching for the friction I know he can give me once his cock slides inside.
He grips both of my hips as his tongue keeps sliding over my clit.
My head drops back, and I pull the dress up and off until I’m naked.
“Stop,” I tell him, and he does without hesitation.
“Lie down.” Again, he does what I tell him to do.
He doesn’t ever question me. He stretches out on the cool tile floor as I step over him until I’m standing above his hips, his cock below me.
He places both hands behind his head as if he’s relaxing, waiting for me to do something.
I wonder how long I could make him lie there without trying to touch me.
It’d be torturous for him, but I wouldn’t be doing myself any favors either.
Since having Hawke in my life like this, I’ve become needy, as if there’s an urgency to be together as many times as possible before we won’t be able to do this anymore.
It makes me almost desperate. I drop down to my knees and hover just above his cock.
“Lover,” he croons. “I’m happy to do all the work.
” He winks. And I know what he’s saying is true.
Instead, I lower myself until I feel him at my entrance.
He keeps his hands to himself, giving me space to lower myself onto him.
When he’s seated fully inside me, I take a deep breath before I lean forward, place my hands on his tattooed chest, and start rocking my hips back and forth.
“Fuck, woman.” He growls but doesn’t touch me.
He lets me do whatever I want to do. I ride him, and he lets me.
Even when I can feel myself building and building, he makes no move to touch me.
But as I look down at his face, I see he’s biting his lip, and I can tell that he’s restraining himself from touching me, letting me have complete control.
I’ve never once noticed him let another woman take charge.
Deep down, it makes me want to believe I’m special, but I focus on what we have now.
“Touch me,” I command, and reach for his hand to place it on my tit.
I know he fucking loves my tits and my ass; I always catch him staring at them.
He doesn’t waste any time as his hands cover both my tits, and they fill his palms. He takes them between his fingers and starts rolling my nipples as he shifts himself to sit up against the wall.
I don’t stop my movements as he takes one of my nipples into his mouth.
He bites it and proceeds to bite all around my breast, and I know I’m going to have teeth marks all over me, which only turns me on more.
He’s so in tune with my body because the moment my orgasm begins to crest, his lips slam onto mine as if coaxing it out of me, demanding that I give him everything.
He consumes me, not letting me ride out this wave without every part of him being right there with me.
He always reminds me who’s making me feel this way.
The first orgasm that hits me breaks me apart as he devours me whole, grabbing my hips and rocking us back and forth to keep the momentum.
I feel another build straight after the first, despite how sensitive I am.
But he doesn’t give me time to breathe or think.
He just takes and gives, and I suddenly can’t even remember why I’m mad at him.
He just keeps my hips rocking, and his mouth devouring mine. Branding me from the inside out.