6. Ivory
IVORY
We face each other across the dinner table like soldiers in a standoff, the silence between us loaded and dangerous.
The clink of forks and glass, the echo of the day’s disaster still ringing in my ears.
Hudson sits across from me, forearms resting on the table, shoulders hunched and jaw set, staring at his plate like he could burn a hole through the china if he tried hard enough.
He hasn’t said a word since we left my parents. I haven’t, either.
I push food around my plate, my appetite nonexistent strangled by anger. Everything inside me feels wild, hot rage, dread, humiliation, shame, and something rawer underneath, something I can’t name. This was always supposed to happen.
Wasn’t it?
I think I was hoping, in some small, stupid way, that my father, at least, cared a tiny bit about how I felt.
Either letting me marry for love or pick someone younger than Damian Crest. Someone less…
gross. Someone who didn’t look at me as a cut of meat he’s been admiring in some butcher shop window.
Someone who saw me for me, and not just another piece of property to own or trade.
Someone like Hudson.
How could I be so naive to think my father loved me enough to actually consider my feelings.
I’ll never be that fortunate.
My stomach twists, and I feel nauseous.
I take another sip of wine. It’s sweet and crisp and goes straight to my head, making everything fuzzy and distant. I’ve never drunk this much before or had alcohol ever.
Wait.
I take that back; I had a sip of champagne at a wedding once.
Legally, I’m not supposed to be drinking at all. But I’m an Ashford, so we do whatever the fuck we want. Right?
Before I know it, half a bottle is gone, and I’m feeling it swirl in my bloodstream, tingling under my skin.
Hudson’s voice cuts through, low and rough…parental.
“Ivory, I think you need to take it easy on the wine.”
I look up, meeting his dark and serious gaze, remaining steady as always. But tonight, there’s something else in them, too. A restlessness, an edge.
Fuck, he looks so hot right now. I wonder if he’d let me lick his belly button.
I tip the glass toward him, a half-smile playing on my lips. “Why? Are you going to tell my daddy?”
“Ivory,” he says my name as if it’s a warning.
“Hudson,” I say his name back, mimicking the same tone.
“What?” I giggle. And this time, I warrant myself a stern look, from Mr. Hot Bodyguard, nostril flare and all.
“Oh, Hudson, don’t be such a party pooper.
Besides, aren’t you supposed to celebrate when you get engaged?
Not that the idea of becoming Mrs. Damian Crest makes me want to do anything except throw myself off the nearest balcony. ”
His jaw is working hard now, I can almost hear his teeth grinding together.
“That’s it. No more wine for you,” he says while reaching for the almost empty bottle.
I shake my head, snatching it before he does.
“I tell you what,” a strange boldness pops up out of nowhere, and I can’t stop myself. “I’ll stop drinking… if you kiss me.” The words tumble out before I can catch them, letting them echo between us, impossibly loud.
Shit, I can’t believe I said that.
It has to be the wine. I’m typically not this brave. Not this reckless. Not sober.
Oh well! What’s done is done.
Hudson’s eyes snap to mine, a flicker of something dark and dangerous in them.
“Don’t joke about that, Ivory.”
“I’m not joking,” I whisper, voice barely audible. “I mean it. I want… I want to know what it’s like, before…before I have to pretend with Damian. Pretty please, Hudson.” I stick out my bottom lip, pretending to pout.
He shakes his head, while his mouth is a flat, hard line. “Ivory, you’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re asking.”
I set the bottle down with a trembling hand, trying my best to hold his gaze.
“Want to know a secret, Hudson?”
“No, I don’t.” He stands up from his chair, rounding the table toward me.
“Let’s go.” He pulls me up by my arm, but he’s gentle. “You’re going to bed before both of us do something that we’ll regret.”
He tries to lead me, but I don’t budge.
“Wait. I didn’t tell you my secret.”
He eyes me for a second before letting my arm drop. “Fine. Then bed. I’m serious, Ivory.”
Looking up at him, I lean in close, like I’m about to share a piece of top secret information.
I rest my hand on his chest, feeling his muscles tense under my touch. “I’ve never been kissed before. Not once.”
“Okay,” he says.
“I don’t want Damian to be my first. I want…” My voice breaks, but I force myself to finish. “I want it to be you.”
He goes very still, and for a long, aching second, I’m sure he’s going to turn around and walk away.
He doesn’t.
I can feel my heart hammering against my ribs.
He places his hand on top of mine, cupping my jaw with the other. “Are you sure you want to do this?” His voice is sandpaper and velvet, scraping every nerve in my body raw.
I nod, so hard my hair falls over my face.
He brushes it back, tucking it behind my ear, and then he’s kissing me.
His mouth claims mine, fierce and hungry, and the whole world vanishes away.
His hands are in my hair, on my neck, pulling me closer, and I let myself melt into him.
My lips part and his tongue slides in, and I gasp, the taste of him floods my senses.
I’ve never been kissed before, never even been touched like this, and now I can’t get enough.
My arms wrap around his neck, desperate for more.
He grunts, breaking the kiss, his voice rough in my ear. “Careful, sweetheart.”
“Hudson, I don’t want to be careful. I want you.”
My words cause something in him to shift, and his mouth slams onto mine. He lifts me like I weigh nothing, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He carries me to the couch, while we’re tangled together, mouths pressed hard, his hands already roaming under my shirt.
We make out until we’re breathless, dizzy, aching everywhere.
My pussy throbs in a way I’ve never felt before, wet and desperate from grinding against the hard bulge in his jeans.
I’ve never felt a guy’s dick before. Is it always like this?
That thick…that big? How is that supposed to fit in…
you know what, I don’t care. I need more.
I want to see him, touch him, but right now, all I can do is rock against him, my whole body hungry for something I can barely imagine.
I want everything.
I pull away, my breathing heavy. “Please, Hudson. I need…” My voice is ruined, full of want.
He groans, pressing his forehead to mine. “You’re drunk, Ivory. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.”
“I don’t care. Please. I want you to be my first.”
He scrubs his hands down his face, groaning, “Ivory, not this way.”
I don’t say anything, just give him my saddest puppy dog eyes, pouting.
“Fuck. Okay fine. We aren’t having sex, but I’ll make you come. And then you’re going to bed without a fight. You got me?”
I nod, breathless, desperate, clutching his shoulders like a lifeline. “Yes. Yes, please.”
“Stand up and take your pants and panties off.”
Without any hesitation, I hop off his lap and remove both. Until I’m standing in front of him, completely naked from the waist down.
I’ve never been like this in front of a man before. A little shocked that I’m not embarrassed, but rather a rush of control, something I’ve never felt before.
“Fuck, Ivory.” His hungry gaze roams, making me feel so exposed but so wanted I can barely breathe.
“Have you ever touched yourself, sweetheart?” he asks, voice low and rough.
I shake my head, “No…” My voice is so small. I’ve never even dared. Not like this.
He watches me for a long second, and it makes my whole body ache.
“Put your hand between your legs. I want you to feel how wet your pussy is for me.”
My heart pounds so hard right now, but I do what he says, sliding my fingers down, feeling the slickness. I gasp, my legs trembling. It feels so forbidden, so good.
“Now, find your clit and make slow circles,” Hudson tells me. “Can you feel it?”
I nod, biting my lip, my legs twitching as pleasure zings through me.
“Don’t come. Not yet,” he warns, and somehow that makes it even more intense.
Before I get too close, he grabs my wrist and pulls me back onto his lap. His mouth finds mine, and I melt against him, moaning into the kiss. My body feels like it’s on fire, and I move against him, chasing that sensation I can’t get enough of, desperate to see where it takes me.
Right when I’m about to find out, he breaks away, leaving me panting and dizzy.
“No…why did you stop?”
He smirks. “Patience. Now, scoot back some,” he says, and I do, letting him guide me until I’m perched on his thighs, open and aching. Then he brings his finger up, pressing it to my lips.
“Open.”
I do.
“Lick my finger, Ivory. Get it all nice and wet.”
I close my lips, my tongue swirling as I watch his eyes darken.
“Good girl,” he whispers, and it makes my insides clench.
He slides his hand between my legs and teases my clit, then slowly, so slowly, slips his finger inside me. I gasp, clutching his shoulders, feeling the stretch.
“Fuck, Ivory. You’re so tight.”
He pushes in deeper and meets something that makes me jerk. I know what it is. My barrier. My virginity. He pauses.
“You good?”
I nod. “Yes…yes, don’t stop.”
“Move your hips for me, baby,” he says softly. “Let yourself feel it. I want you to come like this.”
I start to move, rocking my hips against his hand. The pleasure builds, until I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but let it wash over me.
“That’s it. Now let go.”
I cry out, my body shaking as I clench tight around his finger, falling apart for him.
My first orgasm.
He holds me through it, kissing my hair, my cheeks, my lips.
Hudson makes me feel wanted… alive. And there’s no one else I’d rather have had this experience with.
He scoops me up, carrying me through the suite.
He nudges my bedroom door open with his foot and lays me gently on the bed.
The sheets are cool, the room dim except for the city lights painting silver patterns on the wall.
He tucks the comforter around me, treating me like I’m something precious.
His fingers brushing my cheek is the last thing I feel before sleep drags me under.