27. James
27
JAMES
W hen Ivy said the words, “I want it all,” my heart flipped. For all I knew, she was thinking this was just sex, and she was asking me to give her my dick as deep as I could push it. But in my heart, those words meant something so much more. I wished she meant “all” as in the life, the relationship—everything. And that was the only thing on my mind as I crushed my mouth against hers in a scorching kiss.
My hands trailed up her sides as I leaned her back on the bed again and nestled between her thighs. My dick rubbed through her moisture, but I only teased her with its tip as she hooked her heels around my back and offered me her entrance. She was a whimpering mess, clawing at my sides and panting heavily as she ground her pelvis against me. I was hungry for her. I wanted to enjoy this, to slow it down and savor every second of her.
I ran my fingertips along her collarbones and down to her hardened nipples, giving them a gentle squeeze before sliding lower. I dipped my head between her breasts and kissed the sensitive skin there, making my way down her stomach, tracing lazy patterns with my tongue. I needed to taste her. I needed to savor her.
"Oh, fuck," she moaned, her voice almost a whimper as my mouth closed in on her aching pussy. I could smell the intoxicating scent of her arousal, and it drove me wild. "Oh, God," she moaned as my tongue flicked at her clit, teasing the swollen bud. Her juices coated my face, and I lapped them up greedily, inhaling her sweet musk. I wanted all of her. Every drop.
One hand roamed up her back, gripping her hip roughly as I plunged two fingers inside her with the other. She arched her back off the bed with a gasp, and it spurred me on more. I suckled harder on her clit, working my fingers inside her in time with my tongue's movements. She petted my hair, tangling her fingers in it as my ministrations elicited tiny gasps of pleasure from her lips. When her pussy clenched around my digits, she whimpered and pulled my hair, and I knew she was enjoying it.
I continued to suckle and tongue her until she was quivering, thrusting her pelvis upward against my face. “Shit, James,” she gasped, and her voice was frantic. “I’m so close…”
I couldn’t help but smirk to myself. I wanted to be the one to give her the best orgasm she'd ever had. I wanted her to remember this day, remember me for the rest of her life. I wanted her to want more. I wanted her to mean it when she said, "I want it all."
“Mmm,” I hummed against her core, and her pussy clamped down on my fingers. She grunted and arched up off the bed, curling around my head, which she squeezed tightly between her thighs. The rhythmic pulses of her hot walls pulsing around my finger made me smile, but I didn’t stop sucking her. Ivy was exquisite, and I wished I could see her face while she was coming, but feeling the spasms and jolts of her muscles had to be enough this time.
Finally, her grip on my hair eased, and her body went limp underneath me. I kissed her thighs, then her belly button, then made my way back up to her lips. “I want it all, too,” I whispered against her swollen lips. When I kissed her, she languidly searched my mouth with her tongue, drinking in her own moisture that lingered on my mouth and face.
“All of this?” she mewled as she spread her legs and rubbed her pussy over my hard shaft.
“Every fucking bit of it,” I growled, and I ground my hips downward.
“My God, I want you in me.” Ivy’s hands pulled at my hips, and I gently guided my throbbing length to her slick entrance.
I felt the head of my cock brush against her, and I lost patience. Slowly was no longer an option. With one deep, powerful thrust, I plunged into her. Her walls enveloped me like a velvet vise grip, and the sensation was unreal. My cock slid into her with such ease thanks to her arousal. Ivy's nails dug into my back as she arched her hips upward to meet mine, urging me to go deeper.
"Oh, fuck," we both moaned in unison as our hips began to move in a primal rhythm. And in that moment, I knew I'd never wanted anything or anyone more than I wanted her. I wanted all of her, body and soul, and I was going to stop at nothing to make that a reality.
Ivy’s hands came up to my face and held my head there as we kissed, and I gripped her hips and drove into her. Each long, deep thrust made her gasp and whine. It was music to my ears, a symphony she sang for only me, one I induced.
“James…” Her lips were frantic, kissing me and biting my lips. My balls were already drawing up. I chased release like a predator, and she was my prey. “Fuck… oh, fuck,” she whimpered, and I felt her pussy tighten around me again.
“Come,” I growled, and she choked out a gasp.
Her eyes rolled back, and she breathed through gritted teeth, and it was the sexiest expression on her face I’d seen her make. Her pussy contracted and pulsed, and I knew she was coming again, and the sensations pushed me over the edge. I exploded, spewing my seed into her and feeling it gush out around me, and as she continued to convulse, I kept the rhythm and kept her pleasure high.
When her body finally stilled, I collapsed by her side. We were both panting and sweaty. I never wanted to let her go. I realized now that more than anything, I wanted this woman by my side for the rest of my life.
My hand slid up over her belly and across to her hip. I hooked my fingers around her hip bone and pulled her against my chest. The sun was warm as it shone through the window onto her ivory skin, and I kissed her breast, then swirled my tongue around her nipple. It drew a smile to her lips and then a frown, and I reached up and tucked a strand of her hair around her ear.
"What is it?" I asked, and then I realized we hadn't used protection, and perhaps she was feeling uneasy about that. I wasn't afraid of any consequences that might lead to, though I would never purposefully try to cross her boundaries.
"James," she said softly as she stared up into my eyes, "there's something we should talk about."
Finally, we were here, alone with time. The lazy afternoon I hoped for was panning out perfectly, though maybe not exactly how I intended. I thought we'd talk about the party and then I'd invite her to dinner. We'd small talk or banter about common interests, and I'd allude to something more serious. My plan to tell her I was deeply in love with her at my Valentine's party hadn't changed. I still thought it was the perfect moment, but gauging her interest ahead of time still helped me feel more confident that I was doing the right thing.
And this moment between us, where she wanted to talk, felt like the perfect time to do some gentle prying. We kept finding ourselves like this—tangled in each other, sexually intimate, hungry for more. And we were ignoring the massive elephant in the room every time. But not this time.
"Of course," I told her, bringing my lips back to her breast. I pressed another kiss to her nipple and then cupped her other breast with my hand and kneaded it. She moaned softly and her legs, tangled in mine, tensed. When I licked her skin and sucked her nipple back into my mouth, she shuddered and pushed on my shoulder.
"James, please." She was resisting me, and I respected that. I could make love to her all day long if she let me, but she wanted to talk.
My phone started ringing, though, and the shrill of the ringtone made me scowl. "One second," I told her. I knew at any time, Sam would call me with problems, but I left things in his capable hands for a reason.
I leaned off the bed and dug through the pile of clothes to find my phone, lodged in my pants pocket. It was Sam, but he'd have to wait. I silenced the ringer and dropped the clothing to the floor, then returned to her side. Ivy was propped on one elbow with a pained expression.
"What is it?" I asked, and she sighed.
I tensed a little at seeing her face. She was torn up about something, though I didn't know what. I prepared myself for her to tell me this was just a fling or that she wasn't going to be at my party. I had no way of knowing what was bothering her, but my mind got carried away in the seconds that ticked by where she didn't speak. And then someone knocked on my door and I had to grit my teeth.
"Sir…" Marna called. "Sam is here. He says there is a work emergency." Marna's voice was barely audible, but it sucked the life out of me.
Ivy's eyes dropped in defeat and she sighed. I wasn’t leaving until she told me whatever it was she needed to say.
"What is it? Work can wait." I realized in that instant that had I made this sacrifice for Barbra the way I was for Ivy, my life would've been entirely different. But here I was, trying my hardest for a woman whose affections remained a mystery to me.
"I, uh…" She smiled politely, and I knew what she was about to say was most definitely not what she had intended to talk about. "We won't see each other much for the next few weeks. I'll be pulling long days every day at the ballroom. So the next time we see each other will probably be the day of."
Her words hit me like a kick to the chest, but they weren't a death blow. She was still planning to go to the event, and that was a good thing. I just wished she wouldn’t keep hiding from me. There was no way she needed that much time to do this work. The moment I opened my mouth to express that, however, I became like Mike. I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t micromanage her time or affection. It had to be her choice.
"Of course," I said, capturing her hand and bringing it up to my lips to kiss her knuckles. "And I look forward to seeing you in that dress again, next time, for a dance."
"Sir! Sam is here!" Marna shouted, and I knew if I didn't pull myself away from Ms. Hart now, Sam would barge in here and embarrass her.
I reluctantly slid off the bed and shouted, "Coming!" Then I dressed as quickly as I could, stole one more kiss from Ivy, who still lay in my bed, and stepped out of the room.
My mind was reeling over that interaction. The sex was incredible as always, but her words haunted me. There was no way I could know what she wanted to talk to me about, but it seemed serious enough to affect her emotions, which meant it was probably not about a party. It was probably personal. And if it was personal, it was either good news or bad news.
So why did my mind immediately go to the worst-case scenario and fear she was going to tell me she didn't want whatever this was, this undefined thing we had going on that kept sucking us in? And what if she was going to end things? Would I even survive that?