Chapter 29
Ivy
Micah’s mouth is everywhere, my lips, my jaw, my throat. There’s an urgency to his touch, mixed with a gentle reverence. The last time we were together, we were frenzied, acting on hormones and chemistry. Tonight feels different.
He lifts my shirt and an unexpected explosion of nerves blast through me. He’s not Julian, I remind myself, but the damage is done.
“Can we turn off the light?” I ask, swallowing a moan.
“I want to see you.” Micah kisses me, and I try to relax, focusing on his hands in my hair, the warmth of his body pressed against mine. He loves me and I love him and that right there is all that matters, but as his hands slide under my shirt, my eyes slam open.
“I’m just more comfortable in the dark.”
Micah stills, then nuzzles my neck, nibbles at my ear, and sits back.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the douche in Seattle, would it?
Because something tells me the kind of guy who thinks he can dictate your daughter’s favorite color might also figure out a way to get in your head and fuck up your self-esteem. ”
I chew my lip, embarrassed to have ruined the moment, and then tell Micah everything. Julian’s disgust with the smattering of stretch marks on my body. His insistence we keep the light off or I keep my shirt on and my mouth closed. Every stupid, shitty, sneering thing he ever said pours out of me.
Micah looks ready to murder someone as he listens, but his expression has softened by the time I finish.
“Come with me,” he says, carefully taking my hand and leading me into the bathroom.
We stop in front of the counter, facing the mirror.
Micah stands behind me and, meeting my eyes through the glass, he lifts my shirt over my head, then unhooks my bra.
It slips from my shoulders and falls to the floor
Micah kisses my shoulders, my neck, my cheek. He draws his fingers across my skin, so gentle, so kind, so warm and real. “I want you to see yourself the way I see you. This is a beautiful body,” he whispers, tracing his fingers along my collarbones and down my arms.
I chew my bottom lip, my eyes locked on his as he caresses my waist, my stomach, my hips.
“Let me show you what this beautiful body of yours can do.”
My lips part and my breath speeds, holding his heated gaze in mine as he fans the flames of desire. He cups me, sliding a finger inside, his palm tapping my clit, his erection pressing against my ass.
If his words weren’t enough to make me feel beautiful, that hard length is a constant reminder of how much he wants me. I like knowing I do that to him. My breath hitches and a moan builds as I press myself into his palm, eager for more, eager for pleasure, eager for him.
Micah kisses my neck, my back, biting into my shoulder as his dark eyes lock on mine through the mirror. I gasp.
“That’s it. Those are the sounds I love. Let me hear you feel good. Look at what I’m doing to you.” He speeds his pace and I drop my gaze to his hand between my thighs, thrusting and slipping, and holy shit, I’m about to watch myself come on his fingers.
Micah grips me by the hips and bends me over the counter.
One hand swirls around my clit from the front while he slips a finger into me from behind.
His eyes light up as my back arches and he stares down at his hand thrusting and thrusting and thrusting into me.
I watch him enjoy what he’s doing, his eyes dark with lust, with raw delight as he fucks me with first one finger, then two.
He licks his lips like he can’t wait to taste me and that’s it.
That’s all I can handle. In the mirror, my breasts swing as my eyes flutter closed and my inner walls clench and dance.
I sag onto the counter, panting and moaning and shrieking his name.
“That’s it, baby. Look how beautiful you are when you come.” Micah slides a hand around my chest, pulling me upright, so I can watch my body respond to his.
“You’re beautiful, Ivy. So beautiful. Tell me you see it.”
Finally, my orgasm recedes and I lean into him, knees weak, breath spent. Micah meets my eyes through the mirror and smiles, kissing my neck as his erection reminds me this entire event has been one-sided.
“Let me take care of you now,” I say, trying to spin in his arms and get down on my knees to take him into my mouth. “So we’re even.”
“Who cares about even?” Micah laughs, holding me tight. “If I can make you come seven times to my one, then that’s what I’m going to do.”
With a hand between my shoulders, he lowers me down again, the counter cool against my arms as he undoes his pants and steps out of them.
I watch his dick spring free, eager as he takes himself in his hand, pumping as he stares between my legs.
I watch through the mirror, eyes locked on his as he enters me inch by aching inch.
I release a quivering breath as I adjust to being so full, swallowing a groan as his hips hit mine.
And then he’s moving, stroking, stretching, hitting so deep that my keening cries echo through the room. His hands, gripping my hips, pulling me into him over and over, pushing me toward an edge I can’t wait to step off, this sense of undoing as my body sings with pleasure.
“Micah…” I whisper, then my breath hitches and catches and I meet his gaze in the mirror.
He smiles. It’s soft and it’s sweet and it’s made just for me and this is what love feels like.
This.
Him.
Us.
Now.
Forever.
Always.
And suddenly I’m overwhelmed with feeling, everything spinning out of control and I’m shrieking and gasping and making all the sounds I swore I’d never make again. Lost to pleasure. Lost to him. Lost to us, right now forever.
“Fuck,” Micah mutters, his pace speeding. “Oh fuck, Ives…”
“I love you,” I whisper. “I never stopped loving you. I never will.”
With a groan, he finishes, staring into my eyes while words like “destiny” and “fate” and “happily ever after” dance through my mind.