Chapter 21I’ve never met anyone like you, Firecracker.
TWENTY-ONE
I’ve never met anyone like you, Firecracker.
Ivy
Bringing the shirt to my nose again, I suck down another noseful. And like every time I’ve smelled it before, needful bumps spread along my skin, and my pulse picks up.
“Smelling your man’s shirt again?” Juni asks, popping her hip against my bedroom door frame, her jam-stained apron tied to her body.
I nod, holding it to my nose again for one final hit of the good shit before I get dressed. “Just call me Dolly,” I tease, but before Juni can laugh, my pregnant younger sister bustles in, a hand on her belly.
“Speak of the obsessive beauty,” I tease as Dolly comes to my side, pulling me into a hug.
“Good morning and hey, if you’re taking after me,” she rubs her belly again, “that’s a good thing. Look at how my obsession paid out,” she says, using air quotes around obsession as if it were alleged.
“That’s true,” Juniper says, braiding her long blonde hair. “Do you think it’s headed that way? Ring and bump, I mean?”
I shrug, knowing the little twist in my gut is praying for those things to happen. “I never thought that the man I admire most would ever even know I exist. But look, now we work together and he’s my mentor and?—”
“Your plaything,” Dolly adds, wiggling her eyebrows.
Yeah, my sisters have the full rap sheet on what’s happened so far. They’re my best friends, and if I don’t share the high level details with them, it feels like a betrayal.
Obviously dick size and the copious amounts of cum that Trace expels are for me only. But admitting to them that I’ve been playing around with him, trying to make him work for me, work for something that fulfills him and leaves him happy when he puts his head on the pillow each night— that’s sharable. Because I’m proud. I’m proud of the patience, the forgiveness, the power, everything I’ve done with Trace, short of lying about a contract, gives me confidence.
Laughing, I feed my arms through his t-shirt and agree. “Yeah, my plaything. But I mean, if all of that happened, anything can happen.”
Juniper comes into the room and takes a seat on the edge of the bed, handing me my black pair of leggings. I jump into them. “What do you want to happen?” she asks. Dolly tips her head to the side, her blonde hair falling over her shoulder. “Yeah, Ivy, what do you want with him?”
I shake my head, because it’s so much but also so simple. “Everything.”
After the night at his place where he gave me the most mind-blowing orgasm I’ve ever had, we went out and got burgers, eating them in his sports car. We talked, covering films and albums, discussing favorite and least favorite meals, and we even went into boots—thick sole, thin sole, leather, patent—anything a boot could be, we talked about our preferences for it.
At his house, we shared a slow, sizzling kiss. He held my face with one hand and wove our fingers together with the other. It was intimate and romantic, and not at all expected from Trace.
When I got home, I had a text message waiting, asking me if I’d arrived safely. After responding yes, he sent me one more message. One that I have reread more times than I can count.
There’s so much I want to talk to you about, Ivy. But tonight changed me. I want to move forward, but I have to move slowly.
In that message, I read everything I’d hoped and suspected.
He wants me but he’s clawing his way from a boozy and pussy-filled depression, and he’s scared that if we move too fast, he may slip back into old ways.
I get that.
We’ve worked together at Ink Time the last couple days, grabbing lunch with Connor and Deuce at Goode’s one of them, and on another of them, we ate together on the curb out front, splitting a hoagie the size of my forearm.
We text at night. Casual but sweet.
But today, after admitting to my sisters earlier that I want everything, I can’t stop focusing on everything.
I’ve looked his way approximately six trillion times during his afternoon session, and now, as the client is paying and giving out compliments, I feel like I’m going to explode.
“What are you up to tonight?” Deuce asks Trace after the client walks out.
“Painting,” Trace answers, “your house, asshole.”
Deuce grins. “I’ll be sure to check the molding and baseboards, make sure you don’t make any mistakes.”
Trace rolls his eyes as I approach. I spent the day watching him, taking notes on his technique, filling ink caps, sanitizing his space and generally just being his apprentice.
I don’t know how much Deuce knows, but no sooner have I walked up than he’s saying he’s on his way out. Something about Ev and Ace, but I’m not listening.
My eardrums are pounding. My heart is threatening to break my ribs. My panties are drenched.
I know we’re moving slow, we’re building and we’re not defining things.
And I’m fine with that. Really. Whatever gets us to our finish line, I can roll with it.
But I need to fuck him. He’s riled me up by just existing as a sexy, talented man, and it’s time he eases the ache he put inside me.
“Would you like me to come help you paint tonight?” I ask, tucking my hair behind my ear.
A growl rumbles through his chest. He’s wearing a faded crop black t-shirt with a torn chest pocket, black jeans and brown boots. His hair is down, sitting on his shoulders, and his jaw today is clean shaven. I love how his belly shows, just a little. He smells like pine and heaven, and I want to push him down onto the floor, crawl over him and eat him alive.
“I do indeed,” he crows, hunger rippling in his voice.
My mind spins. I’m going to his house again… and while I want to fuck his brains out, I also want to play… and make him work for it.
I deserve a reward for edging myself so damn much.
“I have to run home first but I’ll come over right after.”
His eyes drop to my mouth, and I love how his tongue sweeps his bottom lip as he studies me. “Perfect,” he finally says. Then, stepping nearer to me, so close that his breath flanks my nose, he adds, “I’ve missed you, Firecracker.”
I snort nervously. “We’ve been together all week.”
He arches a brow. “You know exactly what I mean.”
My palms grow clammy. “I’ve missed you too,” I admit, shedding the coy act instantly. I reach out and cup his cock, surprised to find it partially stiff. “See you two soon.”
I grab my things and head out, already making plans in my head. Because Trace may not know this yet but he wants more than sex. He wants to earn it.
And he will.
I don’t even get the chance to knock. Trace opens his front door as I’m taking the porch steps, letting out a rush of distinctly Trace smells. Pine, shampoo, deodorant and now? Coffee.
I’m glad it’s not whiskey anymore.
“Hey, Firecracker,” he says, the rough timbre of his greeting wrapping me like a sexy hug.
“Hey you,” I reply, surprised when he loops his arm around my waist and bends to kiss me. It’s not short, it’s not on the cheek and it isn’t subtle.
Our mouths open as his fingers dig into my back possessively, his moans filling my mouth. After a moment we pull apart, and he peers over to Deuce’s, the lights on, blinds open. “I told him you were coming over, just so he wouldn’t look out the window and find out.” He searches my eyes. “You cool with that?”
I shrug. Something about knowing that Trace told Deuce that I’m going to be at his place makes me feel… as corny as it sounds… special. “It’s fine.”
After slipping inside, Trace locks the door, just now noticing the black bag hanging from my shoulder. He points to the cans of paint lining the wall near his boots, the stack of blue tape and tarps, and the bucket of new brushes. “I have everything… I mean, unless that’s, like, your overnight bag or something,” he says, dipping down to kiss me, holding my face by the chin as he does.
I lick my lip when the kiss breaks, and smile. “Oh no, it’s not an overnight bag.”
He moves to the kitchen, pulling two glasses from the cupboard. “I got glasses delivered while at work today. And a bunch of other house shit too.” He wiggles the glass for me to see before filling it with water. “So what’s in the bag?”
I smile, my heart racing. “The dick you’re gonna suck for me.”
Water sprays across the empty counter, in my glass, all over his wallet and keys. “The fuck?”
I drop the bag to the floor and cross the room, raising my hand to sift my fingers through his soft hair, dragging the heel of my palm along his cheek and chin. “I think you heard me.”
He blinks. He keeps his eyes on me as he tries another cautious sip of water. “Ivy,” he says, and it’s clear he isn’t sure what to say. Despite the nervous flutter in my belly, I stand strong. Because I do think this is what he needs.
“Trace.”
“Ivy,” he tries again, stretching my name out like a piece of taffy.
“Will you excuse me? I need to get changed,” I smile at him, snatching the bag from the floor before stopping next to the cans of paint. “Don’t worry, we’ll paint. After .”
“ That after sounds ominous,” he says as I smile at him over my shoulder on my way down the hall.
“Don’t get scared. Get naked.”
With my heart racing, I close the hall bathroom door and flick on the light. There’s nothing in this bathroom, which is unsurprising since I know he just moved in and only uses the one in his room. I plop my bag on the counter, over the sink, and a thrill runs down my spine at the sound of the metal zipper peeling apart as I open it.
Inside is everything for a perfect night.
Quickly, I kick off my boots, shimmy out of my leggings and peel off my t-shirt, then slowly pull the elastic bands from the ends of my braids. Reaching into the bag, my fingers find lace and elastic, and a burst of excitement lightens the tightness in my chest.
Pulling on the lace teddy and garters first, I grab the strap and harness next. It’s the same one we used before, only now it’s going to go in him , not me. For a moment, I take in my reflection, loving the wild waves of my dark hair and how they contrast the red lingerie. The strap-on is black, the harness, too, and as I spin and check my silhouette, I realize my boots would look so hot with this.
I put them back on, take a deep breath, and pull open the bathroom door. I’m surprised to find a completely nude Trace standing right where I left him, a puddle of clothing at his feet.
I keep my fist wrapped tightly around the dildo as I stroll out, chin down, eyes locked on him and that fat cock of his. God he’s sexy. A man with piercings and ink is obviously hot, but add in a big dick and a willingness to change? Impregnate me now.
“Fuck, Ivy, you look so hot,” he groans, pulling at the back of his neck as his eyes skate up and down my body, over and over. “You are hands down the hottest woman I’ve ever met. The lingerie and boots…” he trails off, shaking his head.
I know he means every word he says. Because he’s naked.
And his cock is fattening up, turning pink and greedy, rising to the occasion. My stomach flutters at the sight, and it gives me the confidence to keep on going.
“Thank you.” I smile, my pulse beating wildly in my throat, my nipples piercing the delicate filigree of the lingerie. “Want to play with me?”
“I don’t know what that means but… fuck yes, I do,” he rasps, his eyes still coursing over my body like a piece of fine art.
“Let’s play mirror ,” I say, coming to stand a foot in front of him. “You mirror me.”
Despite the fact he looks a bit confused, he nods his head as his eyes veer to my breasts. I know what he sees. Greedy peaks poking through, begging to be sucked. Not yet, though. He’ll have to earn that.
I reach out and wrap my hand around the rubber cock, and pump myself once. He reaches out, copying me, and I can’t help but let a little breathy gasp free as his veiny, thick, tattoo-laden hand stretches the length of his thick cock, already hard, making it harder.
“I don’t know what the fuck we’re doing, baby, but this is hot,” he groans.
I pump my cock again, and he pumps his, sending a rush of wetness into my beautiful lacy lingerie. “This is making me wet, Trace,” I breathe, my voice unexpectedly low and seductive. “Maybe if you’re good at following orders, I’ll let you feel how wet you’re making me.”
“Jesus Christ,” he utters, gripping the slick cap of his cock as I make him wait for another order.
Moving my fingertip to the end of my toy, I begin swirling it around the rubber head. He does the same, smearing a bead of opaque liquid around his tip, his head falling back in tortuous delight as he does. His throat bobs with a feral groan and my eyes move to the sheer size of his neck and the tattoos; a rose blooming through a patch of violent, sharp thorns and a snake partially coiled.
I bring my finger to his mouth, and push it onto his tongue. He groans, knowing just what I’m doing. “Mirror,” I command, nudging him through his hesitancy. I take my finger back, and he brings his hand up. Opening my mouth, I stick out my tongue, causing him to release a string of muffled curses before plunging his precum-coated finger into my mouth.
Sealing my lips around his knuckle, I suck and moan, enjoying his salty taste, but more so, enjoying the untamed pleasure in his eyes. My tongue curls around his digit, and though he’s the one whimpering and dripping for me, I’m just as aroused.
I wrap my hands around his large one and slowly pull his finger from my mouth, loving the way he watches my lips.
“Now… I once heard a really handsome but kind of egotistical man use a line… and I’m dying to try it.”
His jaw falls apart and his eyes slowly peel from my mouth, crawling to my eyes.
I tap my chin. “I think he said…. Get on your knees and suck my dick .”
A flush hits his cheeks, and he blinks. We both know when I heard him say that. The night at Ink Time when I agreed to go out with Jeremy. When he called those women to the studio, and he wanted to hurt me.
“Ivy, I?—”
I stop him. “I think you mean, yes, ma’am .”
We share a heated gaze, and then Trace smiles. “Okay, Firecracker.”
Slowly, he lowers to the floor, his body still large while on his knees. And that’s got my pussy seizing, too. My orgasm has been building since I unzipped this bag, and now that my fantasy is coming to life, my core is tight with need, my cunt swollen. I’m so wildly hungry for him I can’t stand it, but I love teasing him and teaching him too.
“Hands behind your back,” I tell him, making sure he doesn’t stroke himself. “The next time your cock is touched, it will be by me, so keep those hands behind your back unless you want to find out what your punishment is like.”
He nods. “Yes, ma’am.”
I take his square jaw in my hand, the chisel and set of his handsome features making my pulse flutter low in my belly.
With his hands pinned to his hip bone and his beautiful jaw in my palm, I step toward him. “Open.”
Something passes over his features for a moment, short and fleeting, but I jerk his face up to mine, his mouth still closed.
“Trace Wade is open to new things. Trace Wade is evolving. So open your mouth, Trace Wade , before you regret it.”
I love that he smirks before he obeys, opening his mouth. Still holding his face, I push the cock onto his tongue. “Seal your lips and suck,” I state, my breasts aching at the erotic sight before my eyes. God, I want nothing more than to be ravaged and destroyed by him. For him to grab my tits so hard they hurt all the while he hammers into me until I’m screaming my orgasm for God to hear.
But first, this. He needs this.
Maybe we need this.
“Suck my cock while I tell you how I’m gonna suck yours,” I rasp, watching his cheeks hollow and his eyes blink up. Fuck, this is way too hot. Why don’t more people play like this? “Mirror,” I remind him. He nods on my cock, and I press on, eager to play.
“I’ll be on my knees, completely naked, with my hands behind my back,” I whisper, moving my hand from his jaw to the back of his head. I sift my fingers through his hair until I find the right spot, and grip his scalp, gentle but rough enough to make him groan.
“You’ll put your hand in my hair, you’ll say, goddamn, Ivy, you look so good taking my cock .” I lower my voice further. “ You look so good on your knees for me .”
With a gentle push, I move him down on the cock, his lips sliding along the rubber, making my core tighten with fiery need. This is quite possibly the hottest thing ever.
“You’ll tell me how good my tongue feels and I’ll pop off, sucking the tip, letting all that cocksucking spit dribble down my chin, coating my tits,” I moan, letting my tongue slowly traverse my bottom lip as his dark eyes stay focused on mine. He bobs slowly, freely, without my nudging him, and I move my hand back to his chin, stroking his neck as he sucks me.
“You’ll reach out and you’ll rub spit into my nipples, and I’ll like it so much I’ll go deeper, suck you harder, and moan all around you,” I croak, jerking him off the cock and using his throat as a grip. “Keep your mouth open,” I whisper, using the dildo’s wide head on his tongue, slapping it there to make spit slip from his mouth, down his chin.
“Fuck,” he breathes, while he has the chance. But I slide the cock back into his mouth, and like a good boy who doesn’t want to be in trouble, he seals his lips around it and continues sucking.
Finally, I allow myself to look down, between his spread thighs. His cock is an angry hue of pink, the head nearly purple as he bobs on my strap, spit falling to the floor between us. “You’d say, you’re doing good, Firecracker, ” I whisper down, slipping my hand beneath the dildo, finding my pussy.
I’m so swollen and slick that just the slight contact of discovery has me whimpering. I’m so turned on right now it’s insane. Using my fingers, I smear my arousal on the part of the cock he’s not sucking, then tell him what every man tells every woman sucking his cock.
“Deeper, suck me deeper,” I urge, slipping my hand beneath the cock to find my cunt, stroking myself as he immediately plunges deeper on the dildo, a gag erupting in the back of his throat, spit bubbling around his lips.
“Stay down in it, baby,” I coax, loving the way his eyes flutter closed and he moans around the cock as he tastes what I left for him. “I taste good, don’t I?” I question, my fingers rubbing slow, small circles on my engorged clit.
He nods and the cock bobs, putting additional pressure on my already sensitive cunt. I keep my eyes peeled as I rub myself, watching as he bobs on the cock, his own now steadily leaking. A ribbon of pearly liquid swims down his shaft, curving delicately around the throbbing veins, disappearing into his plump balls.
“I’m close,” I admit, both as myself and as the character I’m playing. Because if I were on my knees like this for Trace, I could probably bring him to his knees in a few minutes.
“ Are you going to take my cum, Firecracker ?” I ask, biting my bottom lip as I pinch my clit, urgent need pounding down my spine. “Swallow my cum for me, show me how bad you want me, show me you want everything I have to give,” I finish, just as the undeniable zing of an orgasm echoes up my legs, landing in my pussy.
My knees shake as sweat slips down my spine. Trace’s eyes are wide and drunk at the same time, his cock bobbing wildly, some of his own spit dripping from his chin to his slick head. He groans around the rubber as my hand works faster, my orgasm right around the corner.
“I’m gonna come now, and I want you to keep your eyes open while you take every drop, got it?” I ask, my eyes moving between his, his mouth, and his beautiful weeping cock.
He nods, bobbing on the dildo and moaning, the same way I do when I know a man is close. I love how good he is at this, at the game, at pleasing me. He’s not perfect, but he’s perfect for me. And with that thought, I lose control entirely.
“Fuck, baby,” I groan, “you’re making me come.” My fingers slide through my stickiness, my clit the most sensitive it’s ever been as my orgasm peaks, my cunt spasming relentlessly. Trace groans, his eyes going to where I’m fingering myself beneath the harness, and as I cry out that I’m coming undone, that his mouth has unraveled me so perfectly, he comes too.
Ribbons of white soar through the space between us, landing with a thud against the floor, rope after rope, moans co-mingling with moans as we come in unison, our eyes still locked.
When I’ve rubbed so much I can’t touch myself a second longer and my pussy is nothing more than a quivering mess, I finally break our eye contact and look down at his cock and the mess he so beautifully made.
Hard, cum dripping down his shaft, painted on his abs, coating the floor— it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Slowly, I back up, taking the dildo from his mouth. Unstrapping the harness, I step out of it and set it on the kitchen counter, then return to my man on his knees.
“Fuck,” he sighs, a shudder racking his shoulders as he lets his head fall forward in respite. “That was intense. That was hot. That was…”
“You can use your hands now, you know,” I tell him, noticing that he’s still got them behind his back.
He releases the position and I outstretch a hand, helping him to his feet. Once he rises, standing at least three inches over me, he brings his hand to my face, cupping my cheek. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Firecracker.”
I smile, feeling the loss as he releases me, kissing my lips quickly before disappearing into the kitchen. He returns with paper towels and begins cleaning up his mess.
As he wipes, he looks up at me. “I need to fuck you right this second, Ivy.”
I laugh. “You just came. Don’t you have a refractory period?”
He shakes his head. “Not with you, I don’t.”
I cup my breasts over the lingerie, garnering his attention as he wipes at an already clean spot on the floor. “Okay,” I say, feeling like we’re ready, like he’s earned me. “We can have sex. But I choose the position.”
Trace gets to his feet, abandoning the paper towels and sticky strap-on sitting next to his coffee pot. He tosses me over his shoulder, my boots dangling against his back. “Goddamn it, Firecracker, I cannot wait to get inside you.”
I can’t wait either. Because I have another surprise for him.