I hovered above her lips, relishing the moment, the feel of having the freedom to kiss her. To touch her. To know that she wanted me.
I would have called it a choice if there had been one, but there wasn’t. The moment she’d asked, I’d answered. I had the feeling I always would, no matter how long whatever this was—a moment of insanity or clarity—lasted.
“More what?” I teased.
She nipped at my lip, her teeth lightly raking the surface and sending another jolt of need down my spine.
“More of you. All of you.”
The look in her eyes told me she knew what she was asking for, and was more than capable of asserting her needs.
The hesitation was mine, which was definitely a first. Even with my blood boiling, my dick pressed into the tiles of the pool, my heart racing faster than it had been during my laps, and her pretty obvious request, I paused.
Because I knew the minute I sank into her, gave myself over completely, there was no return, no getting back the pieces of me that she already owned without ever knowing it.
“Do you want me?” she asked, her voice shaking at the end to match the fear that had appeared in her eyes.
“More than I want air,” I admitted. “There’s nothing I want more than to fall into you.”
“Then why…” she sighed. How was it that the boldest, most vocal woman I knew turned from a tiger to a kitten? Why did she feel the need to punish herself for things that weren’t her fault? “Why did you stop? Is it because I dated—”
I kissed her deeply, showing her with my lips and tongue how much I didn’t give a fuck about that asshole. Had to admit, selfish as it was, knowing she hadn’t given herself to him made me twice as possessive as I’d been before.
Because she was choosing me.
After I’d kissed her breathless, I lifted my head to look into her eyes. “How about we not talk about other guys when I’m kissing you? I’ve never really been down with the whole two-on-one scene or sharing. Definitely not fucking sharing, and that includes a single minute between us after this one. He doesn’t belong here. He never did.”
“And the other girls?” she asked, her voice still kitten-soft.
“The only other girl in my life is Hannah, and she doesn’t belong here either.” I gave her a lopsided grin.
She returned my smile, and some of that burden we’d both been carrying simply evaporated.
“I don’t share, either,” she said, stroking her fingers down my arms and then my sides, catching where my abs cut away into a v shape.
Every muscle tensed as she touched, my nerves firing even higher.
“You’ll never have to. I was yours from the moment I saw you at that party. No one else mattered.” In truth, every other woman I’d fucked had only been a physical exercise. Pleasure given and received, but nothing else.
Ivy would take my heart when I took her body, I knew it.
“So there are no ghosts in your bed, is that what you’re saying?” Her eyes lit with that teasing fire I loved, and I nearly sighed in relief.
Come hell or high water, I’d bring that confidence she wore better than any makeup into every part of her life. She needed to understand her worth under all that bravado.
“Since you’re the one who picked out my new bed, all that bedding, and those million-fucking-pillows, I can answer with a definite no. You’re the only woman who’s been there, who will ever be there if that’s what you choose. You’ve always had the power between us; I just don’t think you knew it.”
Her lips parted as the fullness of what I’d said registered with her, echoing the same wonder I felt every time she’d let me touch her.
“You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Yes, my bed has too many pillows. They all end up on the floor anyway.” I shrugged, trying to think past the screaming need in my dick to claim the woman who had already offered herself.
Offering and knowing what you’re giving are two different things.
She laughed, bright and open. “You can never have too many pillows.”
“I meant the rest, too. There’s no ghosts in my bed or my heart.”
Her smile faded. I knew she couldn’t say the same about her heart, and that was okay. Everyone came with a past. I wanted her future.
“But I’d let you haunt me,” I admitted.
That worry in her eyes transformed to something infinitely hotter, and she traced the line of my abs with hands.
“Your body is insane.” Her eyes followed the path of her hands until she saw for herself exactly how badly I wanted her. She sucked in her breath and then followed her hands back up until they rested on my pecs. “Everything about you is perfect.”
“I can say the same about you.”
“You’ve never seen me shirtless,” she argued.
I pulled her forward and brought us flush again. “I’ve had you up against me enough to know exactly the kinds of curves you keep hidden under your clothes. Trust me. You’re perfect.”
This time she didn’t ask me to kiss her—she struck.
Her lips found mine, opening, sweeping, taking. I sucked her tongue into my mouth and revelled in her whimper as she arched closer.
“You’ll get wet,” I warned her.
“Already am,” she answered with a tilt of her lips.
“Smart ass.” I kissed her breathless, bringing my hands under the curves of her ass and lifting her from the edge of the pool.
God, her ass was incredible. Firm and round, and made to grab onto. Her thighs tightened as I supported her slight weight, gripping me like a vice.
I moved smoothly through the pool, keeping her just above the water line. As much as I was down for stripping her shorts and panties off and christening the pool, it wasn’t how I wanted her this first time.
No, I wanted to be above her, watching her fall apart as she came.
I had zero clue how we made it, but I reached the stairs and walked out of the pool with my tongue in her mouth, stroking and teasing, while she ran her fingers up and down my neck, pausing to grip my hair.
I laid her back on the oversized double chaise and slid over her, my knees cradled by the plush cushion as she parted her thighs.
Her knees rose on either side of my hips, and I decided that this was where I wanted to die.
I ripped my mouth from hers and kissed my way down her jaw to the tender skin of her neck. Her fingers tightened in my hair while I assaulted the sensitive spots with my tongue and lips.
When I reached the collar of her tee, I sent my hands roving under the hem, stroking the lines of her waist.
Her skin was smooth, soft, and so damn warm.
“Ivy?” I rose to look in her eyes. Never again would we have the kind of misunderstanding we’d had in the kitchen.
“Connor,” she answered, her skin flushing a gorgeous shade of pink.
“I want this off, but only if you do,” I told her, my voice coming out as scratchy as sandpaper.
She reached for the hem and arched her back, only breaking eye contact when the shirt passed over her face. It landed somewhere.
I was too busy staring at the lush curves of her breasts to give a damn.
The perfect globes were veiled by the pink lace bra she wore, enough of her pebbled nipple showing to make me desperate to see the rest.
But first...
I sucked on one nipple through the rough material, testing it with the edge of my teeth.
“Connor!” she cried out, arching against my mouth.
Without my asking, she unfastened her bra and slipped the straps free of her arms.
Holy shit, I was going to come just from looking at her. She was petite, I’d always known that, but her breasts were in perfect proportion to the generous curve of her hips, just a little more than my hands could hold.
So they did. I watched her eyes slide shut as I strummed and plucked at her nipples, then bent to take one into my mouth. I catalogued every response as I explored the curv
es, making note of what she liked and what made her writhe and beg.
Her legs shifted restlessly against mine, her hips rocking to stroke my erection.
“Fuck,” I hissed. “Ivy, you’re going to push me past my control.”
“Good,” she answered, “Because I feel the exact same way.”
My entire body tensed as she reached between us to take my cock in her hands. My head fell to her shoulder as she squeezed me, pleasure flooding every sensory input I had.
“You feel huge,” she whispered.
“You sure know how to compliment a guy.” I chuckled against her neck, impressed that I could form a coherent thought as she stroked me, exploring my length.
“I’m serious,” she continued. “This,” she stroked her thumb across the bare head of my cock where it had escaped from the waistband of my swim trunks, and it took everything I had not to thrust into her hand. “Seems to match the rest of you. Perfect, from what I can tell, but I might need a closer look.”
She locked eyes with me as I raised my head. Then she sent her hands beneath my waistband, until she held me in her palms, doing her best to wrap her fingers around me.
“Holy shit, Connor.” She squeezed and stroked my dick, working me with her soft hands. “How do you like this? Hard? Soft? What?”
Stars. I was seeing stars. I wanted her too badly, had fantasized about her too often, and she was going to make me come in my damn shorts if I didn’t get a grip on myself. I wasn’t sixteen for fuck’s sake—that wasn’t acceptable.
“I like it stopped,” I growled against her lips. “Because if you keep going like that it’s going to be over for me, and I have a strict Ivy-first and second policy.”