Chapter 22 #2
I groan as her hand wraps around it, and a jolt of pure electricity shoots up my spine.
Her touch is feather-light, tantalizing.
She leans forward, her lips parting, and her pink tongue flicks out, tracing the sensitive crown.
A light, teasing stroke that has me seeing stars.
She does it again, then her hand moves lower, cupping my aching balls, weighing them, rolling them gently in her palm while her tongue continues its slow worship on the head of my cock.
I wrap her hair around my fist as I begin to lose my goddamn mind. “Ivy...”
She takes that as her cue. Her mouth opens wider, and she takes me in, sinking down, down, until I feel the head of my cock nudge the back of her throat.
She swallows around me, the incredible, wet, tight heat of her mouth drawing a ragged groan from deep in my gut.
I watch her, mesmerized. Watch those full lips that drive me insane stretched around my length.
The pressure builds, squeezing tighter and tighter.
My fingers knot in her hair. “Fuck, I’m going to come,” I warn her, my voice strangled.
She just looks up at me, her eyes saying everything her mouth can’t. She wants it. She wants to push me over the edge, to take back control. She takes me deeper, her throat relaxing, accepting me. And that’s all it takes.
With a guttural shout, I erupt, pulsing deep into her throat. She swallows every drop, her tongue milking me until I’m spent, trembling, completely hollowed out.
For a moment, there is only the sound of our ragged breathing, and then she unleashes that smile that gets me every damn time.
“Holy fuck, Ivy, come here.” I pull her into my arms, the touch of her smooth skin like satin wrapped around me.
She fingers my hair as her mouth slides to my ear. “You ever consider that maybe the phone network was down?” She pulls back, grinning with that innocent little smirk that loves to test my patience.
I quirk a brow, a warning flashing in my gaze. “Is that what you’re going with?”
“You know what I think, Ivy? I think you enjoyed watching me suffer.”
She playfully bites her finger, pretending to consider it. “Mmm, maybe I kinda did.”
She jolts when my hands snatch her waist. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that.”
In one swift movement, I surge forward from the chair, my strength returned tenfold. I scoop her up into my arms. She lets out a little yelp of surprise that quickly turns into a laugh as she wraps her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck.
I carry her like that, her core pressed against my stomach, through the doorway to the bathroom.
“Shower,” I murmur into her hair, my voice a gravelly thing I barely recognize. She just nods, nuzzling into my neck, her lips soft and warm on my skin.
I kick open the bathroom door and set her down gently.
Before I switch on the shower, I catch her reflection in the wide vanity mirror.
Blue eyes gleaming like crystal, lips red and swollen, breasts heavy, nipples straining, begging to be sucked.
Fuck, I need to touch her. I come up behind her, my chest brushing the smooth skin of her back, letting my hands slide up her sides, feeling the delicate tremble that runs through her.
In the mirror, our eyes meet. My pupils are blown to all fuck, radiating pure hunger as they rake over her.
She shivers as I sweep her hair over one shoulder, baring the elegant line of her neck and the smooth plane of her back to me.
My lips find her shoulder first. Not a kiss, but a graze.
A slow, deliberate drag of my mouth against her warm skin.
My right hand comes up, my fingers splaying across her throat.
It’s not rough, but it’s possessive. My other hand follows, my index and middle fingers tracing the plump, swollen curve of her mouth.
“Do you know how beautiful these lips looked fucking me, Ivy?” The words are a low rumble against her ear. “Sliding up and down my cock? Taking every last fucking drop?”
A soft, breathy sound escapes her. Her lips part, and my fingers slip between them. She doesn’t hesitate. Her tongue flicks against my skin, and then her mouth closes around my fingers, sucking gently, mimicking the exact rhythm she used on me. The sight, the wet heat of her mouth—fuck.
A growl rips from my throat. “Such a little cocktease,” I rasp, my hips pressing forward, my cock already steel hard, grinding against the cleft of her ass.
My left hand drops from her throat, skating down her front until my thumb lands on a taut, pebbled nipple. I pinch, just enough to make her whimper around my fingers. My teeth scrape the sensitive skin of her neck, a warning, before I bite down. Not hard, but enough to mark. Enough to claim.
I pull my wet fingers from her mouth, dragging them down her chin, her throat, leaving a glistening trail. My voice drops to a whisper.
“Now spread your legs for me, Ivy. And touch yourself.”
For a heartbeat, she hesitates, a blush cresting her cheeks. Her hand moves tentatively downward. My hand covers hers, guiding it, pressing her own fingers against the slick, swollen heat I find there.
“That’s it,” I urge, my voice tight. “Show me.”
I watch, my jaw clamped so tight it aches. Her fingers, under my guidance, begin to move. A slow, circular press against her clit that makes her hips jerk.
“Now play with your nipples, Ivy.”
She licks a fingertip, a lewd, gorgeous sight, before bringing it to her chest. She pinches one taut peak, then the other, her breath hitching. Her back arches, pressing her ass harder against me.
I’m transfixed, watching in awe as pleasure twists her beautiful features, hearing the desperate little cries that escape her lips. The frantic, desperate movement of her hand between her legs.
“Come on, baby,” I grind out. “Fuck, I need you to come for me.”
Her eyes squeeze shut. A sharp, guttural cry is torn from her throat, and her whole body seizes against me. The waves of her orgasm ripple through her, and I feel every single one. She slumps back against my chest, boneless and breathless.
I don’t give her a moment to recover. I turn and push open the shower door. The spray is ice cold for a shocking second before it quickly warms. I back her up against the cool tiles; the water plastering her hair to her shoulders and my own to my forehead.
I kiss her. Deeply. Tasting myself on her tongue.
My hands cup her ass, lifting her, and her legs lock around me again, a familiar, welcome weight.
I guide myself to her entrance, and with one slow, relentless slide, I’m inside her.
The fit is perfect, unbearable. She’s so warm, so tight, still fluttering from her climax.
This isn’t the frantic, driving pace from before. This is different. Softer. Deeper. I move with a slow, grinding rhythm. Our foreheads are pressed together, our breaths mingling with the steam.
I can’t drag my gaze away from her. Whatever I was holding back, the control I was clinging to.
Gone.
I tried to fight it; I’ve got no idea why.
Guilt? Fear? Avoiding the fall, protecting myself against the pain of loss.
She looks right back at me with a devotion that mirrors my own.
I keep my pace achingly slow, drawing out every sensation, every slide of my cock, every catch of her breath.
The water cascades over us, but all I feel is her heat.
All I see is her. The world narrows to this tiled wall.
My thrusts become a little harder, a little faster, the mounting tension in my gut becoming unbearable.
I see the moment she shatters again. Her eyes fly open wide, and a broken sob is ripped from her chest as her orgasm tears through her.
The feel of her convulsing around me is my undoing.
My rhythm breaks, my thrusts becoming erratic, frantic.
I drive into her one last time, as deep as I can go, and my release explodes, white-hot and blinding, my body shuddering with the force of it.
We collapse, spent, burying my face in the curve of her neck, our hearts hammering against each other.
We take a few moments to compose ourselves, kissing softly before we dry off. I grab her hand as she follows me to the bedroom, sliding into the bed next to me. We face each other in the quiet dark, my fingers tracing her cheekbones, her palm pressed into my chest.
“You still haven’t told me where we are,” she says, a sleepy edge to her voice.
“Catskills,” I say, pulling her into my chest, my hand tracing lazy circles on her shoulder. “Tomorrow, I’ll show you around.”
“I’d like that,” she says, her voice trailing off as she loses the battle with tiredness.
I’m not far behind as I feel myself begin to drift under.
I watch her, my chest tight. Strangely, her pushing me away today only pulled me closer. Affirmed everything in my mind.
God, I’m not sure I deserve to feel this pathetically happy.
But I’ll take it for now.