Chapter 17 - Ivy #2
"Beautiful," he says, his eyes turning intense.
Then he strips slowly. His t-shirt comes off, revealing the tattoo that plunges to his belly and makes me dream of what lies beneath. He removes his jeans and briefs, and then he’s naked before me.
This time, I take in all of him—hard, heavy, and unmistakably eager. And I can’t help wondering what he could do to me with it.
I want him to make me drown in pleasure.
When I lift my eyes to his, he's smirking. His eyes are dreamy.
He climbs on the bed. Supporting his weight with his forearm and knees, he starts by pecking my forehead, my nose, my ears, my cheeks. By the time he gets to my lips, I'm burning with anticipation.
His lips devour mine, sucking and eliciting desire. His tongue explores inside my mouth, sending heat waves into my body.
I moan, my hands splayed on his back.
When he kisses me until I can't breathe any longer, he moves to my neck, licking and sucking.
My breath becomes ragged when he presses kisses on my shoulders, my ribs, the valley between my breasts.
I'm trembling by the time he licks my left breast, his tongue sending waves of electricity into my chest. His tongue rests on the tip of my nipples, and my breath hitches. He sucks them slowly, and I'm lost.
"Declan."
"Call my name." His voice is husky.
"Dec, please..."
"What do you want?" he asks, tongue tantalizing my nipples.
"Lick me down there."
He chuckles.
"We'll get to that," he says lazily.
But I don't want to wait that long. I grab his butt cheeks and squeeze. His eyes snap to mine. I smirk.
"Ivy."
It's a warning that I ignore, squeezing again.
"Lick me down there," I whisper.
"I will, eventually," he says, positioning himself so my hands can't reach his butt unless I sit up.
I groan, and he smiles.
"Why so impatient, sweetheart?"
Then he moves over to the right breast, sucking and licking until I'm moaning relentlessly. I'm trembling when he moves down to my belly. His hot and wet mouth explores my inner thigh, and my back arches off the bed.
"Sensitive," he notes, grinning against my skin. "I like that."
He kisses higher, closer to where I'm aching for him. His breath ghosts over me, and I nearly come apart from that alone.
"Please," I hear myself beg.
"Please what?"
"Lick me there."
He looks up, his grin wicked.
"Where? It has a name, you know."
"Vagina."
"Hmmm." He doesn't continue.
"Pussy," I breathe out, desperately wanting to feel the sensations from his tongue.
He places his tongue on my clit, waiting. I shift from side to side, my breathing irregular.
"Last chance to change your mind," he says.
"Don't you dare stop."
His laugh is low, wicked. Then his mouth is on me.
The sensation from his tongue is overwhelming. The first orgasm builds slowly, then crashes over me like a wave. I'm still trembling when he starts again.
"Declan, I can't."
"You can." His voice is muffled against me. "Give me another one."
He's relentless, somehow making it different from last time. It's more focused and intense. He uses his tongue, his lips, the scrape of his stubble against sensitive skin.
By the time the second orgasm hits, I'm writhing and crying out, my hands pulling his hair. The orgasm keeps building, continuing for so long until my voice is hoarse from calling his name.
When it ends, he moves up the bed.
"Now touch me. I want your hands on me."
I reach for him with shaking fingers. He's hard and hot in my palm.
"Show me what to do," I whisper.
He guides my hand, showing me the pressure he likes, the rhythm that makes his breath catch. His hand covers mine, teaching me, and I watch his face as pleasure transforms his features.
When he comes, it's with my name on his lips and his hand still wrapped around mine.
Before I can fully process what happened, he's moving down my body again.
"What are you doing?"
"One more," he says, settling back between my thighs. "At least one more."
This time, he adds his fingers while his mouth works me. The dual sensation is overwhelming. I try to close my legs, try to escape the intensity, but he holds me open with gentle firmness.
"Let go," he commands. "I've got you."
The third orgasm is deeper and longer, pulling something from my core that feels dangerously close to surrender. My legs shake uncontrollably, tremors I can't stop when he finally pulls away.
He's not done.
Through the night, he takes me apart again and again. With his mouth, his hands, his whispered words against my skin. Teaching my body new languages of pleasure, showing me sensations I didn't know existed.
By the time dawn starts lighting the windows, I'm boneless, exhausted, thoroughly claimed.
"This isn't practice anymore," I say, my voice wrecked. "This is real."
“Yeah, it’s real for both of us.”
He pulls me against his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear.
***
I wake up to an empty bed and the sound of running water. Declan's in the shower singing off-key. Sunlight streams through the windows. My body aches in unfamiliar places, a reminder of last night that makes me flush.
When I take my phone from my bag, guilt crashes over me like ice water.
King.
I'm lying in Declan's bed, my body still humming from his touch, while King texts me messages every day, shares his thoughts and fears and makes me feel seen.
I can't be with Declan while stringing King along. It's not fair to Declan, King, or myself. There's only one reasonable thing to do. I compose a message to King.
Ivy:
I need to talk to you in person. There's someone else in my life now, and I owe you an honest conversation before this goes any further. Can we meet?
I hit send before I can second-guess myself.
The shower turns off. Declan will emerge any moment, looking excruciatingly handsome with wet hair and that smile that makes my defenses crumble.
My phone stays silent.
One minute passes. Then five. Then ten.
King doesn't respond.
The silence feels ominous, heavy with implications I don't want to examine.
What if he hates me? What if I've destroyed something precious by being selfish enough to want two men at once?