Chapter 25“I wanna smell you on me tomorrow.”
TWENTY-FIVE
“I wanna smell you on me tomorrow.”
Ivy
“I’m definitely locked in the bathroom right now,” I whisper, my cheeks aching from the smile I’ve been wearing for the last two hours. “And I’m pretty sure my last appointment thought I was high because of the stupid look on my face.”
“Stupid happy!” Dolly corrects jubilantly, Bear and Honey laughing in the background. “That’s great—being official is a great step!”
“Next up—a ring!” Juniper adds.
“I’m so happy he came to Bluebell. Deuce was right, this was the best thing for him,” Ev chirps. “Actually, you were the best thing for him. He’s really changed, Ivy, and I think we can all agree—that’s because of you.”
Pinching the phone to my shoulder, I reach into my pocket and dig out a tube of lipstick. Using my mouth, I take off the cap and spit it in the sink, twisting it until the black pigment appears. “We’ve been good for each other,” I agree, but to say it’s all been me that’s helped Trace turn things around… I don’t think so.
Not drinking takes more than a strap-on and a tease of sex. It takes willpower and dedication, all the while being in a new environment, training someone, and adjusting to the world around him– “I’m proud of him, though. He’s really pulled out of the dark space he was in when he came to Bluebell.”
“Well, what now? Are you coming home tonight?” Juniper asks, but before I can answer, Ev and Dolly give a unanimous “ Psshhh .”
“She’s getting dicked down to celebrate, aren’t you, Ivy?” Dolly asks.
I tap my chin, mulling over some plans I’ve been brainstorming for some time. “Yeah,” I reply, “something like that.”
“Something like that,” Ev repeats. “That sounds kinky.”
“Oh, Ev,” I smirk, putting the tube of lipstick away as I plop my lips together. “You have no idea.”
Trace’s mouth has tasted every square inch of me. Seriously.
His tongue dips into my belly button while his hands skate my ribs, gripping me. “ Shit ,” he groans, “If I could bottle you up and drink you, I still don’t think it would be enough.”
Appreciation flutters through me, heat flaring in my cheeks and blooming in my chest. After I stopped by my house to get a few things ( ahem ), we came to his place and this man had me stripped naked in under a minute.
In the midst of painter’s tarps and boxes, he’s got me on the floor, nothing on but open, unbuttoned jeans. His lips carve a trail of heat along my stomach as I peer down, spotting the wet tip of his cock aggressively surging from his open jeans. My pussy blooms at the prolific sight, and it has me moaning for him, pleading with him.
“Trace, I want you to fuck me, fuck me, fuck me ,” I beg, each time my voice rising higher, need rattling in my throat. The more I cry out, the harder I dig my nails down his bare back. When he groans, I torture him by sucking his fingers into my mouth. And the more I want him, the crazier he becomes, pressing his erection into me as he leaves a mark on my neck.
He gets to his feet, finally shucking off his jeans. Trace moves toward the hall, no doubt toward the bathroom in his bedroom, going for the ridiculously oversized box of condoms he has stashed in there, but I grab his wrist.
“You said you got tested after that night,” I whisper, referring to the infamous night in the lobby of Ink Time where I finally got to put my boot-knife to use. I knew that thing would come in handy eventually.
One day in the studio, when Trace and I were working quietly side by side while his arm grazed mine repeatedly, the chemistry between us a silent blaze, he made a confession. He said that after that night, he got tested because he knew he wanted to turn things around. That if he would ever have a chance with a woman like me, he had to make changes. And that started with his health.
“Ivy,” he breathes, boomeranging back to me, lowering his body over mine. The feel of his carved chest and round muscles, his warm skin painted in beautiful art telling stories of his soul—it will never not be the hottest thing on the planet. Maybe in the entire solar system. Honestly.
While we’ve established he’s clean, there’s one thing I haven’t told him.
I’ve been on the pill for years. I didn’t tell him before but now, it feels right.
“I’m on the pill, Trace,” I tell him slowly, our eyes idling in the slow dance of processing. I lick my lips. “If you want to spread my legs and sink your fat, veiny cock inside me, I’ll milk you,” I say, nodding gently, licking my bottom lip, thoughts of his cock inside me flitting through my mind. I want this man so much. “I’ll clench all around you if you fuck me hard, and then when you can’t take it, you can come in me, bury all that hot, thick cum deep inside my hungry, swollen little pussy. And when you’ve filled me full, you can pull out and watch your cream spill from my pink lips, and drip down my ass. Don’t you want that, Trace? Don’t you want to see your cum oozing out of my pink, swollen, used cunt?” I bring my head off the floor, pressing my forehead to his. “ Your used cunt.”
His broad chest heaves as a virile, feral growl tears through. “Shut up, Ivy,” he groans, nudging my face to the side to take a bite of my pulse, making me moan.
“I love your lips on my neck, and I can’t wait to feel your bare cock slipping into me at the same time,” I tease, trailing my fingertips lightly up his spine, edging him.
“Shut the fuck up, Firecracker,” he warns, lifting his head from where he was blissfully sucking my neck. Our eyes tangle in the midst of our heated desires, his nostrils flaring with virile need. He wants me back, and that makes my pussy weep. What else makes me soaked? The feel of his cock heavy against my belly, leaving an eager mess. So sexy.
“You’re dripping, leaking for my pussy, desperate for me to say the word,” I whisper, dragging my tongue through the split of my lips.
“You’re going to make me blow all over you, is that what you want?” he growls, dipping his head to my chest, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth. A deep groan tears through him, his teeth clamping down, making my spine arch from the ground. I love the way he gently grinds his body into mine, his cock gliding in precum against my stomach.
“Are you gonna hump me and cum all over me before you get to fuck me? Hmm?” I suck his earlobe then give it a nibble.
“I told you to shut your fucking mouth, Ivy,” he groans, rocking to his knees, death gripping his cock.
I smirk up at him, the flare in his eyes making my chest tighten. “I like it when you talk shit to me,” I tell him, collecting my tits in my palms, strumming my thumbs over my pointed, thirsting nipples. He watches, gripping himself something fierce. “It’s gonna make it all that much better when you finally take control, and fuck me just the way you like.”
“Right fucking now,” he breathes, stroking my clit with his thumb. Arching my back, I push against his hand, seeking more friction, ready to deploy the next part of my plan in driving my new boyfriend absolutely batshit crazy.
“Before you fuck me, I have something I want to show you,” I mewl, reaching for the bag I brought.
Trace follows my arm, seeing what I’m grabbing, and shakes his head, now stroking his erection. I could masturbate to the sight of him stroking. I probably will later.
“Oh no, no suck the strap shit, I’m getting in that pussy of yours on my terms,” he states, reaching for the bag. But I yank out a dildo, one he hasn’t seen yet.
“That wasn’t my plan,” I tell him, bringing the dildo to my stomach, moving the head of it through the mess he left on me.
He’s all heaving chest and rumbling moans mixed with a string of curse words as I bring the dildo to my mouth.
“I can deep throat, did you know that? Have I told you that?” I ask, batting my eyes. I kiss the tip of the cock and show him the black lipstick imprint left on it, making him snarl.
“Ivy,” he warns, but I’m not stopping. I have him just where I want him.
“Put your hands behind your back,” I advise, and when he doesn’t immediately do it, I add, “ now .”
Once he obeys, I smile and take the six-inch toy down my throat in the first push.
“ Fucking shit mother freaking fuck ,” he sputters, his fist barely pumping now, using caution that arouses me. I love how I bring him to the edge.
Plunging the dildo deep in my throat a few times, I take it out. “I want you to put your hand on my throat and feel how that toy fills me, and imagine it being you,” I tell him, adding, “imagine being that deep in my throat and coming.”
He pushes my hand toward my mouth playfully, urging me to continue my show. Sinking the cock onto my tongue, aiding the deep throat with a swallow, my pussy nearly explodes at the sight of him reaching for me, at my favorite octopus-covered fingers wrapping my throat, his palm pressed against me as the cock spears me.
“Shit,” he growls, his other hand stroking his erection, still weeping freely onto my belly. “Ivy, you’re so goddamn beautiful.”
Pulling the cock from my throat, I smile and say, “It’s almost time to fuck me, but there’s one more thing I want to do.”
“I need inside you, Firecracker, I’m dyin’ here,” he moans, but like an obedient lover, he helps me up when I stretch my hand toward him.
“Stand up with me.” I smile, bringing my saliva-coated lips to his.
We get to our feet, and I press the dildo base to his groin, forcing his erection to stand horizontal, parallel to the toy. Taking my time, I get to my knees and bring my mouth to the dildo, wrap my fist around the shaft, and begin pumping it while I tease the rubber crown.
“What are you doing to me?” he breathes, sifting his fingers through my hair, keeping it all off of my face.
With his cock pressing against my throat, I suck the dildo into my mouth, blinking up at him through tears of strain. My hand twists and my nostrils flare as I bob relentlessly on the toy, his hand still reluctantly obeying by holding it to his body.
The feel of his slick cockhead sliding against me as he watches me devour the toy, both of us pretending it’s him, has my own orgasm building.
Wetness coats my thighs, but I suck the rubber cock and stare up at him, determined to make him nuts.
“Ivy, I can’t take this, baby,” he groans, sucking in a sharp breath, pulling his bottom lip under his teeth, he battles for control over his cock. The one that is hardly even being touched.
I pop off the toy cock and blink up at him. “Come on my tits, Trace. I want your cum all over me.”
Curling my tongue underneath the head of the dildo, I suck it into my mouth right as his hand tightens on my head. He forces me deep on the toy as heat splashes against my neck, hot jets spraying me repeatedly as I’m flanked by his curses and groans.
Shooting his cum all over me, the pearly slide of it dripping down my tits, my cunt throbs. I’ve never needed a cock inside me as bad as I do now. I physically need him inside me, and because of it, a wicked shudder rolls through me and my body erupts in needy trembles.
He tosses the toy aside and takes my chin in his hand, tipping my face up to him.
“You’re shaking,” he breathes, still catching his breath. I spread my hands through the mess on my body, trembling for his cock.
“I need you,” I admit, still playing with his cum. “More of you, please.”
He’s got his hands under my arms and I’m wrapping my legs around his waist, his still hard cock pressed between our bodies he storms us down the hall, to his bedroom.
Tossing me onto the bed, he stalks over me, a predator no longer fucking around with his prey. It’s consumption time, and I’m about to see how Trace Wade fucks his girlfriend when he’s in control.
My stomach clenches as shivers continue to roll through me, leaving me a sticky, trembling mess for him. Hooking his hands under my knees, he rolls me up slightly.
“Watch,” he commands. “Watch me get inside you bare.”
My eyes threaten to flutter closed at his promises, but I keep them open because I want to memorize this moment. Our eyes lock for a moment, and he winks, causing a new wave of shudders to roll through.
Then, his thumb aligned with his crown, he pushes inside me, sinking into me inch by inch until our bodies are thoroughly joined. At the same time, we sigh, content, as if this is the moment we’ve both been needing. This is different than when I fucked him.
This is Trace taking control of me, showing me what I mean to him with his body. Dropping to the mattress, he keeps himself over me with his palms on either side of my head, our bodies sticky with his cum.
He rocks his hips slow at first, drawing his length in and out, taking his time as he studies my features.
“You look beautiful taking me,” he rasps, making me clench all around him. “Whoa, whoa, none of that, not yet. Not until I pound you out and make you fucking scream for God.”
“Trace,” I whimper, needing him to pick up his pace, thirsting for his mouth on me, hungering for more.
His smirk lights my soul on fire. “Who’s begging now, baby?”
I arch off the bed, seeking out more of him, but he stops me, pressing a palm flat on my groin. The arm holding him up torques as he applies pressure to my lower half. “No, Firecracker. No. You get what I give you. Got it?”
I nod, loving the role reversal, my mind a scorched mess from his commands.
“Now, are you ready?” he asks, eyes dancing with mine.
I nod.
“Reach behind you, grab the headboard, and don’t let go until I’m dripping out of you, got it?” he questions quietly, his tone gentle, as if he’s not delivering the hottest orders.
I nod again as his hand comes back to the other side of my head. Reaching up, I curl my hands around the wooden headboard.
His strokes build momentum, each slick glide of his hard cock through my soft flesh builds intensity. His eyes never leave mine as he pumps and thrusts between my splayed legs. “You want my cum, don’t you, Firecracker?”
Briefly, his eyes flash to the sticky cum drying on my tits. “You want it on you and in you, but mostly in you, isn’t that right?”
The headboard slams into the wall as I cry out, screaming more! Harder! Faster! Yes! Please!
“You want me to leave you so full that you can’t take a step for a week without my cum dripping down your thighs,” he groans, swiveling his hips, the head of his cock nudging something deep inside me.
I clench around him, throwing my head back, basking in the building pressure. My heart flutters and my toes curl. “Trace,” I moan, reading the signs. “I’m gonna come.”
“Yeah you are,” he says, rutting into me harder, his hips aggressive between my legs. My pussy burns from the roughness in which he fills it, over and over. “You’re gonna come on your man’s big dick because you’ve been wet for it all day, haven’t you? You needed my cum on your tits and on your fingers because you just couldn’t wait, isn’t that right, Firecracker?” He groans, and then it’s over. His cock and his mouth take me out, and my world goes dark as my pussy seizes, exploding all around him in heady bursts. Clenching and throbbing, my hips buck off the bed, my words jumbled in chaos as I writhe and come.
“Shit, Ivy,” he grits, and then I feel it.
The first time I’ve ever felt it. And with the only one I ever want to feel it with.
Cum flooding me. Thick, hot waves of his release, inundating my abdomen, riding back up his shaft and down my ass. His cock pulses, and the twitch of his orgasm inside me has me bucking again, finding a second release.
“Yes, Trace, come deep,” I urge and moan, thrashing beneath him as his cum spreads through my hips. We come, and come down together, leaving me a stuffed and sated heap.
Finally, when he’s grunted for the last time, he slides out, peering down between my legs to watch his cum follow. Reaching down, I dip into the mess, fingering myself to feel what he left inside me, watching his face while I do.
“Ivy, you are just—” He shakes his head, still watching his orgasm streak out of me.
“Your girlfriend,” I finish, giddy as I say the word girlfriend.
His eyes travel my bare, sticky body and come to mine. “I was going to say the sexiest woman alive but I guess that’s interchangeable with girlfriend.” Trace wastes no time in scooping me up, setting me down on the bath mat before starting the shower.
“There’s soap and shit in there, probably not the good-smelling shit you use but?—”
“It’s fine,” I tell him, waving my hand beneath the spray to test the temperature. “You wanna get in with me?”
He shakes his head, pressing his lips to mine. “I’m gonna change the sheets and get us some water.” Scratching the back of his head, he looks into the spray a moment then at me. “You, uh, you want to sleep here?”
I reach out and pinch his nipple before stepping under the stream of hot water, letting him watch me for a moment with the curtain pulled open. “Let me ask you this,” I start, grabbing the bar of soap from the ledge. “Do you want me to sleep over?”
He nods. “Fuck yes.”
“Me too.”
Then we stand there smiling like total dipshits before I yank the curtain shut and smile alone in the shower stall, where it’s far less corny. “You really don’t want a shower?” I ask again as he brushes his teeth at the sink.
“Nope,” he replies. “I wanna smell you on me tomorrow.”
“Gross,” I reply, but I’m still smiling.
Thirty minutes later, his leg is tangled with mine and I’m lying on his chest, listening to his heart beat as we find deep, restful sleep together.
And no matter what I dream while asleep, nothing is better than my current reality.