Chapter 29
Ivy
It’s happening.
Thank fucking god I took an every thing shower.
I squeeze my thighs around Wesley’s waist, and begin peppering kisses down his jaw and neck as he makes his way through the kitchen to the small hallway that leads to the master bedroom.
I’ve never seen Wesley’s room, and I’ve started thinking of it as almost a mythical place, like I’d never see it.
Going slow.
He’s been trying to go slow. When I’ve wanted to do nothing but go pedal to the metal. Stupid man.
I run my hands through his dark messy hair, toying with the curling ends at the nape of his neck, and pull. I feel the groan in his chest before it leaves him.
“God damn, baby. I need you so fucking bad,” he breathes out.
Yes.
I feel a dull throb start to pulse in my core, and I writhe on him, desperate to get this started.
I kiss down his neck, licking and sucking anything I can get my mouth on.
He lets out a soft moan, and tilts his head to the side, giving me better access.
I lightly bite his jaw, and revel in the feel of his scruff against my lips.
We step into his room and he kicks the door shut behind us. Reaching behind him, he blindly fumbles with the lock on the door, neck cranked to the side, totally distracted by me nipping at his skin. It takes longer than it should, and I laugh against his throat until he eventually gets it.
With the door finally locked, he walks us over to the bed and gently places me down on the foot of the bed. I frown at the loss of him, but take in my surroundings, surveying every inch of his bedroom. It’s exactly what I imagined.
A dark four poster bed and deep grey or black walls make the room moody. Plants grace every corner, and framed obscure art adorns the walls. There’s a brown leather armchair in the corner with what looks like already worn clothes draped over the back.
The room looks lived-in, and cozy. I instantly feel at home.
His signature leathery-musky scent fills the space, and I wonder if it’s those used candles on the bedside table.
It feels so masculine in here—so him. I run my hands over the white duvet, feeling the soft fabric.
What I wouldn’t give to wrap myself up in these sheets like a cocoon. I bet they smell like him too.
I zero back in on Wesley, craning my neck to meet his gaze. I always wondered what his eyes darkened looked like when reading romance novels. Now I know. His gaze is hungry, near feral looking, and I make a mental note to describe his exact expression in my book.
He lets out a deep breath through his nose, locking eyes with me.
“There's no going back after this,” he grits out, gently stroking my cheekbone with his thumb. “Once I have you, you’re all mine. No space. No taking it slow.” The contrast of his rough words and soft touch makes my stomach hollow out.
I swallow hard, and stammer, “Yes. I want that. I want you.”
“If you want to stop at any point, you just say stop, alright?” he says, a touch more gently while tracing his thumb over my lips.
I nod in response.
“Words, Ivy.”
“I’ll say stop if I want you to stop,” I reply softly.
“Good girl,” he whispers, still entranced by my mouth.
He pulls my lower lip down with his thumb, then releases me and takes a couple of steps back. I’m about to ask what he’s doing, but then he speaks so low and gravelly it surprises me.
“Strip,” he demands.
I blink for a second, processing what he said.
When he arches an eyebrow in challenge, I slowly grab the hem of my shirt, and lift it over my head, tossing it to the side.
I’m not wearing a bra, and it seems to have taken Wesley off guard.
He trails his hand down his body and palms himself, squeezing his visibly hard cock through his grey sweatpants.
“All the way.” He nods down at my cotton shorts.
I stand up from the edge of the bed, and hook my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts. I drag them and my underwear down in one fell swoop, leaving me standing completely naked.
Wesley scans my body up and down, torturously slow. “So fucking beautiful, Ivy. You’re incredible.”
I bite my lip, suddenly shy. The way he speaks to me, the way he makes me feel, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
“Get up on the bed.”
I take his instruction and scoot my ass back on the bed. I lean back on my elbows, not really sure what he wants to do with me just yet. He’s still standing in the center of the room, still clothed, and still staring at me while he strokes himself through his pants.
I feel completely on display purely for his pleasure, and it's utterly intoxicating.
It makes me feel powerful—wanted.
I feel myself growing wetter and wetter. I’m not above begging. I will beg this man to fuck me. I’m about to do just that, when I see him reach for the waistband of his pants, tugging the sweats down to his ankles, and kicking them to the side, leaving him in just his briefs.
“Touch yourself. Show me how you fuck yourself when you think of me.”
Oh hell yes.
I lay my head back on the fluffy white blanket, wanting to give him a show. Dragging my fingers over my breasts, I circle my nipples, and gently tug on the piercings.
Fuck, that feels good.
A soft, low moan leaves my lips as I trail one hand down the valley between my breasts, down my stomach and finally to the apex of my thighs.
I drag my middle finger through my slit, stroking up and down to spread my arousal, before slowly starting to circle my clit.
With my other hand, I play with my breasts, squeezing and pulling on the piercings.
My eyes drift closed, focusing on the pleasure and the fact that Wesley is watching me. It’s so fucking hot. I start to circle a bit faster while adding pressure, and a fire lights up my entire body, making my back arch.
I don’t hold back my moan as I feel my legs start to tingle. This is going to be quick.
“Eyes on me, baby.”
My eyes fly open, and I find Wesley kicking his briefs off.
Oh. My. God.
Greek god doesn’t even do him justice. This man is the most proportionate, muscular masterpiece to grace this earth. The way every single ab flexes as he grips his cock, along with his huge defined, tattooed arms and chest, is like my new kryptonite.
His thighs have to be twice as big as mine, and I can see every damn muscle in them straining. His tall, broad frame takes up so much space, I feel like I can hardly breathe. He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.
My fingers paused in my ogling, and my breathing picked up.
I’m beginning to pant. I watch, completely consumed by the way he strokes himself.
He drags his thumb over his tip, collecting pre-cum, before spreading it over his length.
He moves closer to the foot of the bed, stroking himself and devouring me with his eyes.
“Keep going. Slide a finger in,” he growls, his wild blue eyes now locked on my pussy.
I obey, dipping one finger into my center, slowly pumping in and out. “God, that feels good,” I breathe out.
“Now two.” His breathing is growing ragged.
Again, I listen without question, adding a second finger. “Oh my god,” I moan, unable to control my volume or mouth any longer. Thankfully we’re on the other side of the house.
Never breaking eye contact with me, Wesley moves to kneel on the bed, positioning himself between my legs. He grabs the hand that’s pumping in and out of me, and lifts my two fingers to his mouth, and sucks them clean.
“Fuck, I’ve missed that,” he groans out.
Bringing both of my hands together above my head, he pins both of them in only one of his. The movement brings my breasts closer to him, and he takes the opportunity to dip down, sucking and licking both of them.
It’s chaotic, and filthy. He bites his way across my chest, leaving marks in his wake, before I feel one of his large fingers tease my entrance.
He lifts his face, looking me in the eye to see my reaction as slides one finger all the way in. On his second pump in, he adds his second finger, making me gasp in surprise.
“Breathe, baby. I need to get you ready to take me. Deep breath.” He breathes in deeply, demonstrating. I inhale, and do my best to match him. “Yes. Just like that. Relax for me, pretty girl,” he commands in his gravelly tone.
A little more relaxed now, he starts to pump two fingers in and out of me in a steady rhythm, still pinning me in place. It feels good. Too good. Just when I feel pressure building, he adds a third finger, and my eyes roll, and my hips buck off the bed.
He continues his rhythm with three fingers as I throw my head back, hands yanking against his unmovable hold.
“W-Wesley, please,” I cry out. I’m not sure what I’m asking for, all I know is I need something.
“You’re doing so well,” he whispers softly.
His praise fills me with warmth, and it makes me want to do anything and everything to hear it again and again.
When I feel him slide his three fingers out of me, I instantly feel the loss, and whine out my protest, squeezing my eyes shut.
“Such a needy pussy,” he says through a dark chuckle.
I open my eyes and see him leaning over me, reaching into his bedside drawer before pulling out a familiar foil square. When he moves back to keeling between my legs, I place my hand over his.
“I have an IUD. I’m clean, I was tested at my last appointment, and I haven’t been with anyone since.”
Wesley’s eyes widen, and I panic.
“But if you want to use a condom, I’m of course okay with that. Sorry, I was just throwing it out there.” I nervously chuckle, and remove my hand from his, and gesture for him to continue.
“I haven’t been with anyone in awhile either. I’m clean. Promise,” he replies, staring down at me with his chest heaving.
He slowly strokes himself between us, before adding, “You want me bare?”
I nod frantically. “So bad,” I whisper.
Wesley lets out the most guttural growl, and he actually throws the condom over his shoulder somewhere onto the floor.