Chapter 21 #2
Her fingers slide from my chest down to the hem of my T-shirt, frantically tugging at the fabric.
I grasp it quickly and yank it over my head, letting it fall to the floor beside the bed.
The cool air in the bedroom hits my hot skin, but the press of her palm against me sends a rush of heat through my body and straight to my straining cock.
I graze my lips along her collarbone, up her neck, and dip my head close to her ear as I reach between us to tug up her tank top. “Do you want me to fuck you, Ivy?”
She whimpers and nods, trying to shift closer as I trail my fingers across the sensitive skin under her breasts. Goosebumps break out over her flesh under my touch, and her nipples pebble.
My mouth waters at the sight of them, and I shift my head to suck one between my lips greedily.
Ivy arches into me, her nails scoring my chest.
I growl at the soft bite of pain, and my cock twitches behind the zipper of my jeans as I shift one leg until my thigh is settled between hers.
She moans, rolling her hips and grinding down, seeking that little bit of friction that only this angle will give her. The heat of her cunt through the thin fabric that covers it seeps through the denim into my thigh, and I drag my teeth across her nipple.
Her lips part. “Fuck!”
Ivy arches up and up, her back bowing, her body trembling until I release it with a soft pop. She gasps and sags onto the bed, her eyes hooded, stormy under thick, heavy lashes as she stares at me expectantly.
With her tank top bunched up above her breasts and only a tiny pair of sleep shorts barely covering her cunt, spread out across the bed, her dark hair splayed across the pale pillowcase like a halo, I could spend days memorizing every detail. Every shadow. Every dip and curve.
But I need to taste her.
I twist onto my back and drag her up across me until she straddles my waist. Her lush thighs tighten around me as she shifts, and I trail my hands along the waistband of her shorts.
She shivers, pressing her hands into my chest, fingertips curling as if begging me to continue. I slip them over her hips and down her thighs, and she pushes up onto her knees, pulling one leg, then the other, free, leaving her in only a thin thong that barely conceals her pussy.
Eyes locked with hers, I reach between her legs and glide my finger along the damp fabric.
A groan tumbles from her mouth, and she clenches her thighs around my hand, thrusting herself down slightly onto it.
“You’re so wet already, Ivy. Were you thinking about me all night?”
She bites her bottom lip but nods, and the knowledge that she’s been fantasizing about me, has been thinking about this as much as I have been, only spurs me on and helps wash away those last bits of reservation that lingered.
I drag the material to the side so I can touch her wet flesh, and she bucks in my hold.
My fingers glide easily through her slick slit.
She’s more than ready.
Desperate in the same way that I am for her.
I grasp the edges of her thong, easily tearing the fabric, fully baring her to me.
And Christ, she’s beautiful like this.
Wanton.
Needy.
Ready.
She rests a hand protectively over her stomach and watches me cautiously, almost as if she is afraid I don’t like what I see, but I grasp her wrist and pull her hand out of the way, so I can slide my palms across her smooth skin.
A shiver rolls through her, and her eyes drift closed as her lip disappears under her teeth again.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Ivy.” My voice cracks on her name. Because I shouldn’t even be saying it. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be the one seeing her like this. I shouldn’t be the one telling her this and reassuring her that she’s never been sexier. “I have to taste you.”
Her eyes fly open and meet mine, and I slide my hands around her waist and tug her up.
“Sit on my face, Ivy.”
“What?”
Her lip quivers as she stares down at me, but I urge her up higher and higher until she’s kneeling directly over my mouth, and her glistening pussy sits ready for me, only a few inches away.
“This is what I dream about. You. Like this. Getting to touch you.” I glide my palms up the insides of her thighs, making her shudder. “And getting to do this.”
I lift my head to drag my tongue through her.
She groans, the headboard creaking as she grips it above me to steady herself. Her knees tremble against my shoulders, and I lick along her seam, savoring her taste but somehow needing more.
Because I need her release.
I need to see and feel her come apart.
I need to know I’ve done that for her.
She grinds down on my mouth.
Seeking the same thing I am.
I growl my agreement, glide my hand up her leg, and thrust two fingers into her as I suck her clit between my lips. Her head falls back, and she moans, her body telling me exactly what she needs.
The contraction of her cunt around me.
The roll of her hips against my face.
The way her thighs tremble.
I devour her, showing her the only way I can think of how sorry I am for everything and how willing I am to do everything she asks.
For as long as she’ll let me.
I suck her clit between my teeth and graze them along it, and she bucks so hard the headboard slams to the wall.
Yes.
That’s what I want.
Ivy released from all the things holding her back—the pain and fear and loneliness—that keep her locked away in this room rather than out there living…
I repeat it, over and over again, alternating between light scrapes of my teeth along her wet flesh, flicks of my tongue, and thrusting my fingers deep inside her until her entire body undulates and she rides my face, taking what she wants, and accepting everything I have to give her in this moment.
It isn’t nearly enough, not what she deserves, but when she finally comes on a silent gasp, the clasp of her pussy around my fingers, and the way she presses down on me somehow gives me the tiniest bit of relief, too.
Her body spasms as I continue to drag her orgasm out with each thrust and flick. And when I suck her clit into my mouth and bite down, a second wave hits her hard enough that she arches back and the headboard slams violently against the wall again before she sags forward.
I wrap my arms around her and help guide her down my body, until her belly presses into mine, and I can feel her heart beating in time with my own.
She shifts slightly, until her pussy settles over my hard cock still encased in my jeans. A strangled groan catches in my throat, but I force myself to swallow it, my fingers digging into her hips to still her movements.
I can’t take it that far, no matter how badly I may want to.
And God knows I want to.
The thought of being like this with Ivy has been the only thing I’ve wanted for so long that I can’t remember a time when I wanted anything else.
But not like this.
She lifts her head slowly, her eyes half-lidded and still fogged with her orgasm, and she rolls her hips, making it very clear what she wants. “Please, Cam. I just need—”
I press my thumb to her lips, silencing her. “I know, Ivy.” I grit my teeth, shaking my head. Biting back the rush of words and explanations that want to come out. “But I can’t. I just…I can’t.”
A tear trickles down her cheek as she shifts against me. “Please…”
Hell.
I did love to hear her beg. Those few days we spent together before everything imploded, I lived to know it was what she wanted.
But this is different.
So full of desperation that it’s like that first night after we spread Drew’s ashes. The first time I touched her after I had sworn to myself that I wouldn’t ever again.
And it never should have happened.
Just like this shouldn’t.
I capture her face between my palms and brush my lips over hers to soften the blow of my rejection. “You know I would do anything for you, Ivy—”
She presses her forehead to mine, her breath uneven, and a tear falls to my chest. “Then please give me this. I promise I’ll hate you tomorrow.”