Ivy
Ifumbled with my keys, the metal slipping through my fingers like they’d been greased—stupid vodka hands.
Nicholas plucked them from my grip with a quiet chuckle. He slid the key into the lock on the first try and pushed the door open in one smooth motion.
Show-off.
He handed the keys back but didn’t cross the threshold. We stood there staring at one another. What was he waiting for—
Oh. Right. Manners.
“Please, come in,” I said, then hiccuped. Shit. “Unless you, uh, have to go? Your driver’s probably waiting.”
His eyes glittered in the dim hallway light, amused. “I can message Daniel. That isn’t a problem.”
The way he said it, like he’d planned for this. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. Or maybe that was the booze.
“Uh. Make yourself comfortable.” I blurted, then bolted down the hall, with the bathroom door slamming behind me.
What’s the protocol for a one-night stand?
I pulled out my phone to text Sadie, then caught a whiff of myself—a mixture of smoke, stale vodka, and the unmistakable eau de skanky pub.
Fuck it.
The dress hit the floor. I leapt into the shower, cranking the water hot enough to sterilise my poor life choices. A frantic hand checked my bush—thank God it was not a jungle yet. I avoided getting my hair wet like a pro. There was no time for a full wash when this was a strategic freshen-up.
Outside, I heard a faint creak—the couch? The fridge? Or him, prowling?
Shit.
Was I supposed to offer him a drink? A snack?
I turned the shower off and grabbed a towel.
The towel hung from my hand while I glanced at my sexy dress on the wet floor.
The only thing I could walk out of the bathroom with was my Spongebob and Patrick beach towel.
The fabric screamed at me in neon yellow, Patrick’s dumb starfish grin mocking my life choices. I closed my eyes for a moment.
Fucking Sadie. I would make her pay for my humiliation.
Nicholas was a suave older man. He had his shit together while my life was a shambles. With a groan, I wrapped Patrick snugly around my chest. The towel barely covered my ass.
Perfect.
I cracked the door open, steam billowing out like a low-budget horror flick. Nicholas stood by my kitchen island, swirling a glass of—wait, where’d he get wine? Had he brought his own?
His gaze dragged over me, pausing on Spongebob’s unnervingly cheerful face, now stretched across my left boob.
“Charming,” he murmured.
And I did the only thing I could think of to tip the scales in my favour. I dropped my towel and watched his face twist. It wasn't lust but a ravenous hunger. He set the glass down with too much precision. I blinked, and he was closing the space between us, his steps measured, his smile all teeth.
His fingers curled around my throat as his eyes drank me in.
“Bedroom,” he said the word through clenched teeth.
I couldn't take my eyes off him, so I pointed in the vague direction of my bedroom.
He didn’t wait.
With one step, he yanked me forward before spinning me until my back hit the wall. His breath was cold against my ear. “I am going to fuck you senseless.”
Then I was airborne with his arm hooked under my knees, and the world tilted as he carried me down the hallway. The bedroom door slammed behind us.
I barely felt the mattress before his weight pinned me. His hands wandered everywhere. He suddenly vanished between my thighs.
Oh. God. He knew where the clitoris was. Of course, he did. I bet he could even spell it. Probably in fucking Latin.
His mouth was everywhere cold, skilled, methodical—like he’d had decades to perfect this and oh—
“Fuck,” I gasped, fingers twisting in the sheets.
Nicholas chuckled against my thigh, the vibration skittering up my spine. “What a dirty little whore.”
Oh shit. He had a filthy mouth.
His tongue dragged over me again, too slow, like he was savouring the first course of a five-star meal. And then I felt a sharp nip of teeth. Not enough to break the skin. Just enough to make me jolt.
“You taste,” he murmured, “even better than I imagined.”
He raised my hips to his mouth, his dark stubble grinding against my pussy as he licked, sucked and plunged his tongue into my quivering pussy. His moan caused me to push myself against his face. No one had ever eaten my pussy the way he did.
I cried out when he pulled back. “No.”
He was off the bed and ripping his tie off. The jacket slid to the floor—buttons scattered as he bared his chest.
“Kneel on the floor, Ivy. You have to earn my cock,” he said, flicking the belt back to unbuckle it.
Yeah, I wasn't about to refuse when I saw the size of his cock straining against his trousers.
“Open your mouth,” he said, kicking his shoes off before whipping his trousers off.
I slowly opened my mouth as he pushed his boxers down.
It was long, hard and thicker than any dick I’d ever seen. I glanced up at his grinning face.
“Are you ready to choke, Ivy?”
I nodded.