After a few minutes, when I’m able to move, I pull her to my chest. She smiles against my neck and rests her head on my shoulder. I murmur in her hair, “That felt so good.”
She lifts her head and her beautiful eyes dance in the light. “I’m so happy.”
I smile at her. “Me too. Ready to go home to our bed?”
Her smile fades and I lift her chin and see a tear dripping down her cheek. “Hey, what’s wrong, baby?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Just the way you said home—it couldn’t be more right.” Her smile reappears and she says, “Xander, please take me home now.”
God, again I have to swallow a surge of emotion from the sight of the tear on her cheek and hearing those words. I kiss her tear away and say, “There’s nothing I want more.”
We head for my car again and this time, for some reason, that stupid poem from so long ago pops in my head, but this time I know the words—“If you love someone, set them free. If they come back, they’re yours.”
CHAPTER 20
You
Ivy, Three Months Later
The day has arrived. All the hard work and energy and it’s finally ready to share. And it’s all because of him. He shifts to his feet before me and the mere sight of him makes my eyelashes flutter, my throat burn, and my heart pound. He hasn’t shaved and his hair falls forward as he moves, making him look impossibly sexy. The hint of stubble I’m staring at has just rubbed against the sensitive skin of my face, my stomach, and everywhere else, but the yearning I feel for him is raging—I still want more.
He pulls up his pants and zips them, standing before me bare-chested—he looks hotter than sin. He catches my stare and before he buttons them he says, “I’ve just got a few things to pick up while you get ready. I’ll shower when I get back. Do you need anything?”
I lick my lips at the sight of the way his pants hang low on his hips, and I take in the perfection of his chest, the muscles in his arms, the line of his collarbone up to his neck. The jaw I’m desperate to kiss, to taste. I can almost feel my hands sliding inside those jeans and I suck in a deep breath as I imagine the feel of his warm, thick cock—the one I just felt. My heart skips a beat at the thought and when I look at him to answer, I’m not smiling. I don’t want him to leave and I can do something about it. A low purr escapes my throat and his mouth quirks up at the corners in response.
I rip the T-shirt off that I just slipped on and sashay across the room. I feel like a lion after her prey. His eyes search mine, and the tone of that hissing noise he makes that just sounds like sex as he watches me makes my pu**y clench. I approach him without an ounce of hesitation. “Stay. Take a shower with me. And I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” I feel a slow blush creep up my throat but ignore it and concentrate instead on tracing each letter of his tattoo. The one he had inked on his skin to keep me close to him. His body reacts to my tender touch and I grin. When I finish, I skim my fingers up his body and then bury my hands in his hair. His fingers grip my hips, but he stands still. I kiss his jaw, then his mouth. My tongue seeks what my body just had and we lose each other in our kiss.
Minutes later he cups my face and says, “Ivy, I have things to do before we leave. What are you doing?” He drops his head back as I do what I imagined doing just a few seconds ago. I push my hands into the front of his pants and feel the pulsing and throbbing of his already thick penis.
“I want you to f**k me again. I want to suck on your cock. Please.” My animalistic approach, the fierceness I felt before his body was touching mine, is ruined by the shakiness of my voice and my use of the word please. But he doesn’t seem to care.
“Fuck, Ivy,” he growls. Then he unzips his jeans and in one quick motion shoves them down, freeing his erection. Knowing he has just come inside me not more than fifteen minutes ago and he is already this turned on makes my cl*t throb. He shakes his head and just grins at me, then leads me to the bathroom. Without a word he turns the shower on and pulls me in.
The warm water hits us both and I push up against him, licking a few drops off his chest as they make their way down to the same place my hands are headed.
“You want me to wash you?” he asks, burying his face into my neck so I can feel his stubble.
I nod. He pours the body wash into his palm and I let my arms fall to my sides as his fingers work lather all over me. His hands move lower and I melt against the cold tile of the shower wall when his fingertips graze my clit. His hands circle and I push my h*ps forward, moaning in delight.
“You want my fingers in your pu**y?” he asks, tracing his tongue around his lips, the lips I want on my body. He uses it to draw a line down my throat to my br**sts, where he licks away the drops of water that fall on them.
I nod my head again and the water pelts down against my skin.
“Tell me, Ivy. Use words. I can’t see your response,” he says as his mouth sucks on my nipple.
I drop my head back and my hair, having grown longer, touches the space between my shoulder blades. “Yes. I always want your mouth on my pu**y, your tongue over my clit,” I tell him and gasp when his lips descend farther down my body.
He stops and I peek down at him with a look of urgency. “What?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing.” I’m panting now.
He climbs up my body and his hard muscles touch my skin, sending shivers down my spine.
“What?” He says the word with such tenderness I feel silly mentioning it.
“Tell me,” he says more forcefully and pushes the wet hair from my face.
I close my eyes and just say it. “I want you in my mouth.”
He laughs, and it’s not a laugh that upsets me at all . . . it’s a laugh that makes me laugh too, but our laughter is laced with desire. Our breathing picks up before we stop and I can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. His fingers twist in my hair and he leans down to kiss me. As he kisses my neck, the water splashes between us like rain. His lips find mine as his fingers release my hair and clutch my head. He turns us around so his back is against the sleek tile, and I smile. Making my way down his lean body, I take my time. I trace the lines of each muscle with my tongue. My mouth eases onto his length and my hand grips his base. He moans at first contact and it’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. He pushes his h*ps up and I take him all in. I love this side of him—the way he lets go and just feels the pleasure. As I glide my tongue up his length and over his head, my hold loosens as my lips slide farther down. I repeat this movement over and over at a steady pace, but when he makes that same noise again, I move faster and suck harder. Xander takes a long, slow breath and then pulls me up to him.
He turns us back around . . . he’s taking control again and I love it. The shower door has turned steamy and the water mists all around us. His hands slide up my shoulders and then down my arms until he reaches my hands. “You’re so gorgeous,” he says breathlessly into my ear. Water slices down his chest and when he presses his hard c**k against me, excitement runs through my body. He lets go of my hands and positions himself at my center. Looking at him, the water on his skin, the way just a few wisps of his dark hair curl onto his forehead, I can’t wait another minute to have him. I lean in and my ni**les brush against his chest as I thrust my tongue into his mouth, kissing him hard for a long time. Sliding my lips to his ear, I whisper, “I want you,” and then I kiss his mouth, his jaw, his shoulder. “So much.” I see him quiver. I love how affected he is by my touch. He finally strokes his finger inside me.
“I’m going to take you now,” he growls.
I close my eyes and the water sprays against my face. Resting my forehead on his shoulder as he strokes inside me, I lose all thoughts. “Don’t come yet,” he whispers and I open my eyes. He quickly presses me back against the tile and pushes my feet apart. He kisses my neck, sucks on my nipple, and I have to clutch his muscular back to hold on. “Don’t come,” he growls again. “I want to be inside you when you come.”
Goose bumps cover my body as I try to hold on—the water, him, it’s all too much. I’m still wrapped up in the pleasure of him when he slides into me without warning. I suck in a breath and enjoy his hard c**k as he thrusts into me. He moves at a slow pace, much slower than earlier today.
Standing on my tiptoes, I run my fingers through his hair. Then I clutch the muscles of his arms with my hands, pushing myself farther back against the cool marble wall of the shower so he can press farther into me. When I lift my chin I notice the look on his face. That combined with the water dripping in small, even streams from his head to his cheek to his shoulder to where my hands are grasping, squeezing, as he moves in and out, is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. When I drop from my toes, his c**k goes even deeper inside me. I moan in pleasure at the feeling and he seems to lose complete control—his hooded eyes and the look on his face is one of pure pleasure.
I scream, “Oh God, Xander,” as my back bows and my inside muscles tighten around him.
“Do that again,” he pants, his hot breath caressing my ear.
I do it again and another peak rolls through me before the first one’s even ended. Then I do it again, and this time the overwhelming sensation takes us both, making me feel like the two of us have become one.
“Fuck, Ivy,” he mutters. Resting his head against mine, he manages, “Put your arms around my neck.”
When I do he buries himself in me and the pleasure is pure, raw, full of energy. His mouth slams to mine as we experience something that is beyond anything I’ve ever felt and I hope beyond anything he has ever felt as well. My heart stills, my breathing stops, and I let this feeling consume me. Let him own me with everything I have and everything he has. His body goes limp against my already boneless one and together we stand under the shower trying to recover from something I want to feel over and over.
I cling to him for support and he buries his head in my neck. After a while he lifts my chin. “I’ve never felt anything like that,” he tells me, his mouth lifting slightly as his hooded gaze tells me how much he loves me.
“Neither have I,” I manage, relishing the feeling of his stubbled jaw against my skin.
He grins and then runs his fingers through my hair as his lips dance over mine.
I trace the rim of his collarbone, then wrap my arms around him as the water cascades over us. “I love you so much.”
He sighs contentedly and then whispers against my lips, “I’ve always loved you,” and his words echo with happiness through me because I know he has.
• • •
An hour later it’s almost time to leave. Soft music plays from the bedroom and when I glance up from the vanity, my heart beats that familiar thumping. Xander’s standing there with one shoulder propped against the wall, just watching me. He can say so much with just a look—the quirk of his mouth and the rise of his brow make my body flush all over.
“Will you zip my dress?” I ask him, trying not to drool at how incredibly hot he looks in his suit, with no tie, of course. Just like roses, he thinks wearing a tie with a suit is too expected. I turn around as he enters. Damp towels are on the floor from our shower, my makeup is scattered across the vanity, and my dress hangs on the hook behind the door.
Xander loves the dark blue sapphire satin because he says it matches my eyes. It’s short, sleeveless, and just about backless. First, letting his fingertips skim across my skin, he ties the cord that spans my back and holds the dress in place, and I shiver. He moves to the zipper at my side and with his finger he trails a line from my hip to under my arm. He takes his time zipping it and when he’s done he smooths the zipper with his palm and I can barely keep myself upright.
He’s quiet. Not saying a word. I turn around to face him and he’s pressing his fist into his mouth.