Leave Me Breathless: The Ivy Collection

by KL Donn

  She’s wearing a smile that looks like the cat who ate the canary, her cheeks flushed a dark pink, her lips swollen and wet as she peers up at me under her lashes. I kick my legs free of my trousers, then drop to my knees in front of her, yanking her to my mouth in a feral kiss, as I lean back on my calves. She just delivered the best fucking blow job I’ve ever had in my life, and I want to return the favor, but my legs are still shaking. I pull away after a moment, resting her forehead on top of mine so I can look her in the eye. “That was fucking incredible.”

  Her cheeks lift as she smiles, still flushed. “It was my pleasure.” She tilts forward pressing her lips to mine for a second. “See for yourself.” My brow furrows curiously until she takes one of my hands and slides it under her skirt until it lands between her legs. She’s soaked. And swollen. Her pussy throbbing under my hand when I cup it on a growl.

  My dick twitches, but it’s not quite ready for round two yet, stuck at half-mast for now. But there is no way I’m making her wait for that. I capture her mouth in mine as I push up straight on my knees until I’m almost even with her, then slide a hand around the back of her neck to lower the zipper on her dress. When she feels the slide of my fingers down her bare back, she breaks away from me long enough to allow me to drag the top down around her waist. She’s wearing a black lace bra with thin straps that criss-cross across her chest before wrapping around the back of her neck. I’m not sure how it releases, but honestly, I’m not sure if I want to. I skim my fingers over the straps, following them down to the lace material of the bra, before cupping a breast in each hand.

  “Do you want me to take it off?” She mewls as I pinch each nipple between my fingers, her back arching into my hands.

  I shake my head, my fingers continuing to work her breasts as I push her back onto the bed. “No. It’s fucking sexy as hell.” I lower myself over one hard peak, and through the lace, I flick my tongue against it. I seal my lips over the fabric and suck, her hips bucking up against mine as she moans, her legs spreading wider as I settle between them. “I like seeing you all strapped up like this.” Her fingers glide through the messy strands of my hair as I continue to flick then suck her nipple, her nails digging into my scalp when I grip the hard tip between my teeth and bite softly. She cries out my name, her hips squirming under me, begging for relief. “Jasper, please.”

  She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I slide down the length of her body until I’m bent between her spread legs. The skirt of her dress, although twisted and turned, still covers her center, so I glide my hands up her thighs, moving the material up and over her waist until she’s exposed. I suck in a breath when my eyes take in her pussy, glistening with wetness around the scrap of lace she thinks serves a purpose. They don’t, and I make sure she knows it when I grip the flimsy string with two hands and tear if off her with one tug, a gasp leaving her as her hips jerk from the pressure. “Sorry, they were in the way.”

  “I don’t care.” She mewls above me, my fingers stroking at her seam. “You can buy me a new pair.” I chuckle, because she’s right, I will buy her more. I’ll do whatever the hell she wants if this is what I get in return. She’s so fucking wet as I press two fingers inside of her, my mouth dropping against her at the same time to run my tongue over her clit. She screams out her approval, her hips jerking up as the walls of her pussy convulse around my fingers. She’s so wound up and right on the edge, but I don’t want her to come yet, so I lower my tongue, lapping against her folds as I pump my fingers in and out of her. Her juices are dripping around my fingers, running down into the seam of her ass, coating my beard with each graze of my tongue.

  I keep lapping her folds, but can’t resist sliding out of her to run my fingers over the hole of her ass, curious if she’ll like it. My dick juts fully to life when instead of pushing away, she bears down on my fingers, purring her approval from above. “Yes, just like that.” She lets out a guttural moan when I press a finger against her opening and push in to the first knuckle, my mouth moving to suck her clit back into my mouth at the same time. “God, yes! Yes!” She urges me on, shoving her ass down onto my hand until my finger is all the way inside of her, my dick throbbing against my stomach in approval. I slide my finger out, then place a second finger at her hole, easing them both all the way in. Her head begins to thrash back and forth as she pants out her approval when I start to pump them slowly in and out of her. I flick her clit, then bite down, sucking hard as I slam my fingers against her ass, a scream erupting from her as she starts to come. Every muscle below her waist tightens for several long seconds, then begins to pulsate around my fingers and under my mouth, her legs relaxing around my head.

  I pump in and out of her a few more times, my tongue laving over her folds, the taste of her even sweeter now that she’s come. My cock is throbbing below my waist, her wet center a siren call. I slide my fingers out of her, rising myself up and over her body, propping myself beside her. She turns her face to mine, a content smile dancing across her lips. “Hi.”

  “Hi yourself.” I drawl out. “I want to kiss you so bad right now, but there’s so much of you in my beard, it might be a little gross.”

  “I don’t care.” She reaches out, gripping my beard in her fingers to pull my face to hers and kisses me. I open wide, thrusting my tongue into her mouth, loving that she has no inhibitions at all about the taste of her on my lips. I shift my weight, rolling my body over hers, my cock, hard and heavy pressing into her dress, wedged between us, as I feast on her, her flavor intoxicating.

  She wrenches her mouth off mine. “You’re hard again.” Her hand snakes between our bodies to curl around my shaft, my eyes closing with her grip as I nod.

  Her legs spread underneath mine, my eyes flying open when I feel her line my cock up to her core. “You want more?”

  “God, yes.” She shifts her pelvis under me. “I thought we determined last night that once wasn’t enough.”

  I half groan, half laugh, not quite believing this girl can be this entirely perfect. Without further discussion, I give her what she wants, driving my hips forward, burying myself inside her heat in one thrust. She’s so fucking wet as I drag my cock in and out of her, slowly at first, my thrusts increasing, becoming harder with each stroke.

  “Yes.” Her fingers cling to my back, her nails breaking the skin each time I piston into her, sweat breaking across my body in a thin sheen. “Harder.” She drives her hips up into mine, meeting me thrust for thrust. “God, you fuck so good.” As if it was even possible, my dick grows harder, her words, her need inflaming my desire, taking me to new heights.

  “You want more baby?” I pant, pumping my dick into her, my balls finally beginning to tighten as I feel my release start to build.

  “Yes.” She chants each time I drive into her, me on my knees now, my hands gripping her hips as I drive into her again and again. “God, don’t stop Jasper. Don’t stop!” Her walls suddenly grip my cock in a tight vise-like hold, her mouth dropping open as she lets out a moan. I jerk my hips back and then slam into her, my length sinking deep in her pussy as I yell out my release, our bodies throbbing together as we come, the heat of my cum drowning my cock as I collapse on top of her.

  9

  “Jasper, you’re crushing me.” I grunt out, gripping his biceps as I try and push him off me. Sweet Jesus he weighs a lot!

  “Sorry.” He mumbles next to my ear, his arms flexing under my hold as he pushes off my body, then shifts back to rest on his knees between my legs. He scrubs a hand down his beard, a smirk lifting one side of his mouth. “Lost my head there for a minute.”

  I nod, staying silent as I shamelessly ogle his body again. Greek. Fucking. God. And didn’t the Greek gods normally have beards in all the photos I’ve seen? I’m going to have to look that up. “What nationality are you?” I blurt, my ability to keep my internal thoughts and curiosity always a problem.

  “That’s random.” He chuckles, scooting back off the bed to stand. “American?” He shrugs, turning
to walk into the bathroom. I sit up on the bed, but my dress, still tangled around my waist, makes it difficult to actually bend, so I slide to the edge and stand. He appears in front of me a second later with a wash cloth. “I didn’t know if you needed this?”

  “Oh.” I take it from him, surprised at this thoughtfulness. “Thank you.” I point to the bathroom. “I’m just going to go take my dress off.” I step around him to head to the bathroom. “Be right back.”

  “Okay.” He turns, watching me as I scoot into the room and shut the door behind me. I take a look at myself in the mirror and cringe in horror. The back of my hair looks like, well, hell’s bells, like I just got laid, and half my mascara is under my eyes. I let out a silent groan, tossing the wash cloth onto the counter so I can use both hands to push my dress down over my waist, stepping out of it when it hits the floor. I pick it up, shake it out, then lay it on the back of the toilet. Next, I work the clasp behind my neck to release my bra, throwing it on top of the dress.

  I glance at the shower, the urge to rinse off strong, but wage an internal war with myself about the rudeness of leaving Jasper alone in the room that long. Instead I use the toilet, then the wash cloth to clean up below my waist. I splash some water on my face, making sure to wipe the mascara off completely, and last but not least, run a brush through my hair. My robe is hanging on the back of the door, so I wrap it around my body, securing it loosely with the tie. I take one last look in the mirror, then open the door, freezing when I step out of the bathroom.

  He’s sound asleep. The covers are pulled up to his waist, his bare chest rising and falling gently, a soft snore sounding each time he exhales. He’s lying on his back, one arm flung over his head on the pillow, while the other one lies relaxed next to his side. He must have been exhausted from being up late last night, then practice today, and now another late night with me. I walk over to the desk to snap the lamp off, pausing when I notice his t-shirt. I skim my fingers over the soft cotton, then gather the material, lifting it off the chair. I raise it to my nose and inhale deeply, closing my eyes when his scent invades my nostrils. I decide then and there that I’m wearing it to bed. I drop the shirt back onto the chair long enough to strip my robe off, then grab it again to pull over my head. The hem swishes against the middle of my thighs as the material settles around me, enveloping me in all things Jasper. I smile at the simple pleasure his t-shirt brings me. I snap off the light, then tip-toe to the bed, sliding in beside him.

  I blink awake, then close my eyes, my mind working to piece together what woke me. I hear the toilet flush, then remember I’m not alone. Jasper’s here with me. I blink my eyes open again when the bathroom door opens, the room remaining dark as he treads softly across the carpet toward the bed. It dips as he sits, then again when lays back, his legs sliding gingerly under the covers.

  “Hey.” I say in a hushed tone, rolling onto my side to face him.

  “Hey.” He turns so that he’s facing me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

  “It’s okay. “ I can see the outline of his face and the shadow of his beard through a crack of light coming in through the closed curtains. “What time is it?”

  “A little after two.” His fingers are suddenly in my view, and then gone as he brushes them down through my locks. “I actually wondered if you slept with your hair up or down.”

  I can’t help the smile that appears at the result of his confession. “Actually, I usually sleep with it up. Just piled into a messy bun on top of my head. I roll around a lot when I sleep and it gets stuck under me if I don’t. I wake myself up pulling my own hair.” I giggle softly. “How’s that for sexy?”

  “Well, I think you’re beautiful, no matter how you wear your hair.” He murmurs, his fingers leaving my hair to float over my cheek, his head tilting to mine as he sweeps a kiss against my lips.

  I don’t think I’m a vain person. I usually don’t even spare myself a second glance in a mirror once I’ve gotten ready for the day. But, I know I’m pretty. I’ve been told by enough people to believe it, and the attention I get from men reiterates it. But when he tells me I’m beautiful, it’s the first time I’ve actually ever felt it. Even as I lay here with my hair in tangles, my face free of make-up, and wearing just his t-shirt. He makes me feel like the most beautiful girl on the planet. “Thank you.” I whisper, my words catching in my throat as I also realize that the more time I spend with Jasper, the harder I’m falling for him.

  “I’m a mutt by the way.” His head is back on his pillow now, but he’s still connected to me, his fingers a breezy touch on my arm as he strokes them up and down my skin.

  “What?” I’m confused for a second, then remember I had asked him earlier what his nationality was. I let out a small laugh. “I guess most American’s probably are.”

  “Yeah, I mean I know I’ve got some Greek, Scottish and German in me.” He stops talking when I let out a guff of laughter, his forehead crinkling. “What’s so funny?”

  “Sorry.” I suck my lips into a straight line between my teeth, trying to quell my outburst, popping them out so I can explain. “Every time I see you with your shirt off, all I can think is, Greek god.” I lift my shoulders in a shrug. “At least I know I wasn’t far off.”

  He laughs. “What about you?” He stills his fingers, then moves his hands under his pillow to prop his head up a little higher. “What’s your heritage?”

  “Swedish mostly. On my mom’s side.” I shift up a little on my own pillow so I’m level with him. “And Welsh I guess. My dad’s grandparents moved here from Wales when they were in their twenties. I think right before World War II started.”

  “Are they still alive?” He pauses, then continues, clarifying his question. “Your great grandparents? Can you imagine the things they’ve seen change in this world?”

  “My great grandmother is. But my not my great granddad.” I let out a small sigh as I remember him and the way he always called me Meg Pie in his clipped Welsh accent. “He died about five years ago.”

  We spend the next three hours talking. Just lying next to each other, sometimes our hands touching, sometimes stopping to press our lips against each other, but our questions about each other, our lives, our desires, seeming endless. So, when he asks the next question, it jars me for a minute as I realize I’m going to have to say goodbye to him.

  “What time does your plane leave tonight?” His voice is hushed, like he really doesn’t want to know the answer, but also needs to at the same time.

  “Ten-thirty.”

  “Would you consider staying a few more days?” His hand slides across the short distance between us to entwine his fingers with mine. “I can pay for a new flight, or the change fee, and for more nights here at the hotel.”

  My heart stutters in my chest, tripping over each syllable falling from his lips, leaving me momentarily speechless. Perhaps taking my silence as doubt, he starts rambling with reasons to stay. “I can be free after two so we can spend this afternoon together. My parents arrive tomorrow, so they’ll take up some of my time, unless you want to meet them of course, then you could just be with me. And I can get you a ticket to the game on Sunday as well. I’d love to have you see me play.”

  “Jasper.” I squeeze my fingers around his to get his attention, his mouth closing as his eyes dart to mine. “I’ll stay.”

  “You will?” He laughs, his cheeks lifting as he breaks into a wide smile. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Before I can say anything more, he surges forward, crushing his mouth to mine, his lips still curved up. After a moment he pulls back, still smiling, his other hand shifting to cup my cheek. “Are you sure?”

  “Are you?” I chuckle, wanting to make sure he knows what he’s actually asking.

  “Yes.” He presses another kiss to my lips. “I want more time with you.”

  “What about practices though, and your family? And don’t you have press stuff tomorrow? I don’t want--” I’m about to sa
y more but he silences me by covering my mouth with his. He lingers there long enough to momentarily quiet my concerns, my mind blank when he pulls away.

  “We only have one light practice tomorrow morning. My parents aren’t arriving until tomorrow afternoon. Press is this morning, and then I’m free.” He smooths a hand over my cheek. “I can make time for you. I want to.”

  I nod under his touch. “Okay.” I turn my head into his palm and press a kiss against it. “I don’t need you to pay for my flight and room though.”

  “But, I want to.” His hand moves to stroke through my hair. “It’s the least I can do.”

  I shake my head. “I’d rather you didn’t.” I offer him a small smile. “But it means more than you know that you’re offering.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to take the ticket for the game from me, cause it’s sold out, and it’s the only way you’re getting in.” He chuckles, apparently the satisfaction of this one win giving him a reason to celebrate.

  “Fine.” I state, trying to sound defeated. “I’ll have no idea what’s going on the entire game, but I promise you I’ll be screaming your name the loudest from the stands.”

  “Kinda like earlier?” His brows arch as his mouth quirks up in a coy smile, moving over me before I can react. His body is propped over mine, his strong arms flexed beside my head, his beautiful toffee colored eyes staring down into my blue ones as he waits for my answer.

  I grin, my hands coming to rest on his bushy beard so I can cradle his face. “Yes, kinda like that, but even louder.”

  “It gets louder?” He jokes, bending to drop a kiss to my lips, speaking against them as he does. “Wanna prove it?”

  I giggle, my lips vibrating against his before I murmur my reply. “Well, practice does make perfect.”

  “You’re so fucking right.” He ends any further discussion between us for the next twenty minutes, and I’m sure, even though they may not have been as loud as they would be in a stadium, my screams at least woke the person on the other side of the wall from us.