Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
REED
My head still spins with the feel of her slick warmth, the way she clamped down on my fingers when I pushed her over the edge. I slide an arm possessively beneath her thigh, lifting her leg and drawing her wet core hard against me.
She gasps at the feel of my length, eyes rounding with panic.
“What?” I ask.
“I didn’t expect you to be so… big.”
I laugh darkly. “Is that a problem?”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll be careful,” I promise, stroking the length of her jawline with a lazy finger. “Controlled.”
Her eyes glint, heat behind them now. “I don’t want control, Reed. I want fracture.”
That’s all it takes. My mouth covers hers frantically, tongue sweeping into her mouth again and again until we both pull away gasping.
I tuck my hips, running the head of my cock over her slick opening. Groaning at the velvety feel and the way she drenches me. My hand grips her thigh harder, knee digging into the bed for leverage and control.
She wants passionate. I’ll give her that. But not at the loss of my control or her consent.
She moans when I slide inside, bracing against the impossible tightness. Measured thrusts, pausing to gauge her face. Learning to breathe and feel with her.
Her hands come up, gripping my back as I sink deeper. Sharp fingernails breaking the skin. “Yes,” I whisper, pulling back and returning with more force. She screams, and I still.
Her pupils are blown when her eyes flutter open, bucking her hips and urging me deeper. “Need all of you,” she whispers, breath hot against my ear.
I change the angle, bringing her other leg up. She wraps them around my waist, locking her ankles. Then we move as one. Intensity flaring with each caress, every sensation.
Like an orchestra growing through a crescendo. My back burns with her marks. My eyes simmer. I grip her hips, sliding over the spot where she needs me. Again and again.
Until her breath can’t keep up.
Her body tightens. Gripping me hard, tremors and spasms running my length.
“Oh, God, Ivy,” I groan, pressing my face into the crook of her neck. Breathing her in. Trying to distract myself for one moment longer.
Time freezes.
My heart stops.
One more thrust, and she unravels around me.
I grip her hips so tightly I’m afraid I’ll bruise her.
Then, I release. Pouring myself into her. Giving her every part of me.
I breathe hard against her neck. Her hair tickles my cheek and nose, following my breath. Her skin is damp with perspiration. Chest rising and falling, face flushed as a rose.
I grip her fiercely because she’s a part of me now. Whatever happens, she’ll always be.
“Was that okay?” I ask.
She lifts her head. Then, drops it back as if there’s no strength left in her.
“No,” she pants. “That wasn’t okay.”
I count the spaces between her breaths like a metronome.
“That was amazing. Mind blowing.” She tips her head toward me now, stroking my beard. “You asked if I would be okay with never going to the music festival?”
I arch an eyebrow.
“I’d be okay with never leaving this room.”
I chuckle, something breaking loose behind my chest as I lean forward and take her mouth again.
“Me, too.”
I lie on my back, pulling her against my chest and savoring the feel of her hair like silk between my fingers. Her breath regulates to mine. Her heartbeat, too.
Or maybe it’s the other way around.
Timing.
Essential to music.
Locked between us now.
“What are you thinking?” I finally ask, staring down at her.
“That you have very talented fingers. Not just for music.”
“Oh, yeah?” I growl, play biting her neck.
She giggles, raising up on one elbow to look me in the face. Her fingertips dance over my chest. Ripples of pleasure wash through me.
“How’s that for the cadenza?” I ask.
But then her face goes timid, her eyes looking away. “The one you wrote for her?” she asks in low tones.
I wrap my fingers in her hair, drawing her mouth to mine. In the moment before our lips touch, I stare into her eyes, correcting, “The cadenza you wrote. The one that rewrote me.”
Ours, now.
Her eyes pool, face softening. She bites her bottom lip.
“What is it, Ivy?”
“It’s just…” Her voice trails off. “For as long as I’ve wanted you, I always knew you wanted someone else.”
I bring my hand to her cheek, urging her to look at me. “You’re jealous?” I ask gently.
She tries to avoid my eyes again, but I won’t let her.
“Maybe.”
“Don’t be,” I say firmly. “She’s what I thought I wanted. In another time and another place. But now I know better.”
“What do you know?” she asks, looking at me.
I tip up my head, kiss the tip of her nose. “That I don’t want the snow ever to end. Or…” My throat tightens, and I fight to get out the last part, “Or the music ever to stop between us.”
“Then we don’t let it,” she says with a soft smile.
Later, after we take a shower together and then eat dinner, she leads me to the piano bench, her eyes begging me to sit. Then, she straddles me, nothing beneath the flannel she wears.
Her arms grip my neck, her hips finding friction, making me hard until I tuck down my jogging pants and take her on the piano bench.
When she arches back, gripping me tight, her elbow hits the keys, notes spilling into the space between breath and heartbeat.
And when I finally surrender, gripping her waist and driving deep, I finally understand that fracture doesn’t have to be an end.
With her, it can be the beginning.