He leaned forward and nipped at her lower lip. “You’ll get your chance. But first...” He straightened and forced himself to put a little distance between them.
“First?”
“First, I need you to choose a safeword. Something you’re unlikely to say during sex unless you mean it.”
“Is that really necessary?”
“It is, if you want this to go any further.”
He watched the dreamy arousal fade from her eyes.
“Sometimes, when people are being spanked or flogged, they might cry out ‘no’ or ‘stop’ because the fact that their partner doesn’t stop is part of what gets them off.”
A shiver worked through her body, and her jaw went slightly slack.
“Since you’ve never been spanked...” He swallowed hard. “Or restrained, I want to make sure that, if things get too intense and you need to stop, we both know what your word is.”
She looked away from him for a moment, then glanced back, her lips lifting slightly. “Sportsball.”
“Sportsball?”
She nodded, her eyes gleaming with humor. “Got a problem with that?”
“Nope.” He smothered his laughter and ground his still-hard cock against her. “Have you got a problem using it if you need to?”
Her amusement evaporated, and her brow furrowed. “I guess not. But what happens if I do?”
“We stop and check in with each other. Figure out what you need. Okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
He stared down at her, and for a moment, he lost himself in the beauty of her eyes, the lushness of her body, and the pleasure of finally having her in his arms again, after so long.
She moistened her lips, and he followed the motion of her tongue. “I know what I need, now,” she murmured.
“Yeah?”
“I need you to fuck me. Please.”
His hand tightened around the wrist he still held. “I’ve never got off on begging,” he murmured against her ear, scraping the shell with his teeth and loving the resultant shivers that wracked her. “But you might have just changed that.”
She sucked in a shuddering breath.
He lifted his head and held her gaze. “Tell me again.”
“Please fuck me, Will. Please. I need you.”
With his free hand, he slid over the slight swell of her stomach and higher still to squeeze her breast.
“Again.”
She arched into his touch on a moan. “Please fuck me,” she breathed. “I need you to fill me. I need your cock.”
He squeezed, again, and her breath escaped in a hiss.
“I want to see you, this time. Take off your shirt.”
He released her and took a half a step back. It wasn’t much, but she’d be able to undress.
He tugged his own shirt over his head. This time, he’d feel every inch of her naked flesh pressed against him. No hideous bridesmaid dress crushed between them, hiding her body. No tux keeping him from feeling the softness of her skin.
Her hands trembled slightly as she struggled free from her knit top and dropped it on the floor. Her tits were cradled lovingly in a silky navy blue bra, her nipples insistent little buds straining against the fabric.
He cupped the weight of her breasts in both hands, thumbing the taut peaks while she squirmed and sighed beneath his touch. As much as he wanted her stripped bare, he wanted to taste her more. Something else he hadn’t had a chance to do twelve years ago.
Hooking his fingers in the fabric cups, he yanked them down, exposing her. Her nipples tightened further under his gaze. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he muttered as he leaned forward and caught a pebbled tip between his lips. He lashed it with his tongue, loving her strangled cries as she buried her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer still. He sucked hard on the crinkled flesh, his cock spiking at the breathy sounds she made.
Reaching for the waistband of her shorts, he unfastened them and shoved them down her legs, letting her kick the garment the rest of the way off. He dragged his fingertips back up her thighs, startling a squeak from her.
Her nipple slipped from his mouth as he straightened, and her arms fell to her sides. She stood there in mismatched bra and panties, her gorgeous tits hanging out and a wet spot on her underwear more than obvious. He reached out and cupped her cunt, pressing his finger between her lower lips—at least, as far as he could while she was still wearing her knickers.
It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t near enough. Stepping closer, he shoved his hand into her panties, parting her labia as he went. She thrust against his fingers, soaking him as her tight nipples scraped against his chest.
She fumbled with his fly and reached into his briefs and wrapped her hot little fingers around his cock. Sliding down the length of him, she froze halfway down, and he knew what she’d found.
“You’re pierced?” she whispered.
“Is that a deal-breaker?” He’d never once regretted getting the jewelry, but he was worried that he was about to.
“I want to see.” Her gaze lifted to his. “May I?” she asked, seemingly slightly nervous.
He released her and took a step back.
Ivy dropped immediately to her knees and ran her hands over his hips and down his flanks, pushing his clothes down the same path. His cock sprang free, and the damp end grazed her mouth. It was impossible not to groan as he watched her lick his pre-come from her lips.
Her eyes met his briefly before dropping, again, to his groin. He watched as she extended a finger and ran the tip down the underside of his prick. Her breath caught as she skimmed over the three barbell piercings there.
“I won’t ask you if they hurt—that’s a stupid question,” she murmured, still staring at him. “I assume they feel good?”
“In a roundabout way.”
She looked up at him, confusion evident in her expression.
“It tends to feel especially pleasurable to the woman I’m with. And feeling her pussy clench and spasm around my cock while she comes is indescribable.”
Ivy clamped her thighs together on a groan, and ever so slightly, rocked back and forth. Without warning, she leaned forward, and ran her tongue along his dick, skimming over the metal and flesh before swirling around and engulfing the tip.
His head dropped back, and he sighed. His fingers tangled in her hair as he automatically guided her up and down the length of his shaft. But he was too fucking close for this, right now. A few more strokes, and he’d be lost to the heaven of her mouth. He tightened his fingers in her hair and slowed her movement. She whimpered in pleasure, and he added hair pulling to the list of things they’d need to explore.
Tugging her off entirely, he kept his grip on her hair and said, “Condom. Right front pocket.”
She grabbed the packet and tore it open. Withdrawing the rubber, she glanced up at him, and he nodded.
He loved the way she bit her lip as she concentrated on covering his shaft. As soon as she was finished, he hauled her up by the hand in her hair and covered her mouth with his, kissing her almost brutally.
The faintly bitter taste of pre-come was present as he swept into her mouth and pushed her back against the wall again. She reached out to stroke his cock, but he stopped her. It was taking every ounce of control to keep from coming like he had last time they’d been together. She deserved so much more than that.
She wrapped her leg around him and tried to drag him against her. She didn’t take direction well—they’d need to work on that. Releasing his grip on her hair, he caught her around the waist and hoisted her up, pinning her against the wall.
She clutched at his shoulders, and her legs locked around his hips.
He gripped his cock and prodded for her entrance, only to realize that in his impatience to be inside her, he hadn’t made sure her knickers were off. Reaching between them, he grabbed the crotch of her panties and yanked them to the side, smiling against her shoulder as her gasp washed across his neck.
“Oh, god, yes,
” she groaned as he set the head of his cock against her opening.
Chapter Fifteen
Why the hell had he stopped? Why wasn’t he already fucking her into the wall? Had he changed his mind? Come to his senses? Ivy lifted her head from Will’s shoulder. It was better that she find out now, right? Though, it would have been even better to find out before she was nearly naked and climbing him like a tree.
She forced herself to meet Will’s gaze. Instead of the regret she’d expected to see, there was only desire. Her breath stalled as raw hunger vibrated between them.
“Needed to see your face,” he said as he pushed into her, slowly filling her with the heat of his cock.
She wasn’t sure if it was the position or that she’d gone without sex for longer than she cared to remember or if he was so much thicker than she’d recalled, but she was sure she’d never felt so full. As he shoved farther in, each of the metal balls on the ends of his piercings dragged deliciously along her delicate flesh. Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head at the feeling. Every additional inch of movement heightened the sensation until she was almost unbearably aroused.
Needing something to anchor herself to, she drove her fingers into his hair. She knocked the hair-tie from his head, freeing the honey-brown strands to fall down around his beautiful face as he began to thrust. The first few strokes were torturously slow, and he trembled slightly as if the pace was difficult to maintain.
A sinking feeling pitted her stomach, and she dropped a hand and pushed at his shoulder. “Put me down. Stop.”
He stopped, concern shadowing his eyes. “Am I hurting you?”
She shook her head, eyes suddenly damp with embarrassed tears. “No. You’re shaking. I’m too heavy for you.”
He stared into her eyes. “Pretty sure we’ve already established you’re not too heavy for me.”
She didn’t respond. Mostly because she didn’t believe him.
“You want to know why I’m shaking?”
She nodded.
“I’m shaking because I’m finally where I’ve wanted to be for the last twelve years.”
She opened her mouth to protest, and he must have known it because he laid his fingers over her lips. “I’ve thought of you so often over the years, and I always swore that if I ever had another chance with you, I wouldn’t blow it by coming right away like I did the first time. I swore I’d make it last.”
She swallowed thickly, unable to speak even if she’d wanted to.
“I’m shaking because I’m trying to hold off. Trying to make this last. Trying to make it good for you. Convince you not to disappear on me again, when it’s over.”
“It’s already good for me,” she finally whispered against his fingers. “Better than good.”
He leaned forward and kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth as he rocked into her. Breaking the kiss, he murmured, “Want it to be better than that,” against her lips.
“Then fuck me.” She nipped at his neck before laving the bite and tightening her thighs around his waist. “Hard.”
His fingers convulsed on her hips, digging into her flesh, and she groaned, loving that little bite of pain.
He drew back then slammed forward again, grinding his pubic bone against her clit. “How’s that? Hard enough?”
It was good. So good. But she was greedy. She wanted more. “Harder.” She clutched at his shoulders. “Please, Will.”
Keeping her trapped between the wall and his chest, he increased his pace, driving into her while he practically held her motionless. The little bits of metal adorning his cock continued to stimulate her channel as he filled her over and over.
“Not gonna last, love.”
She groaned. The ragged sound of his voice settled deep in the pit of her stomach as he shafted her harder and faster.
He raised his hand and paused above her lips. It was the same one he’d used to stroke her pussy. She could smell her moisture on his skin.
“If you need to use your safeword while your mouth is covered, I want you to pinch me. Understand?”
She nodded as he sealed his palm over her mouth. The feeling of him hindering her ability to speak—to breathe—sent need screaming across every nerve ending, and she was sure she wasn’t the only one dripping with her arousal. She strained against him—hand and cock until her release overwhelmed her. She screamed, the sound muffled by his palm as her pussy convulsed and contracted around his still thrusting shaft.
She continued to rock against him, wanting to make him come, too. He tightened his hand on her face, and the release that had begun to fade flared to life again, as he fucked her headlong into another unbelievably intense orgasm.
Finally, he stiffened, pressing her hard against the wall as his eyes closed, and he shuddered almost violently against her. His hand fell away from her face, and he rested his forehead on her shoulder as his gasping breaths eventually slowed.
She kept one hand in his hair, gently caressing his head while the other smoothed up and down his sweat-damp back. His muscles moved beneath her palm as he shifted position and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him than she would have thought possible.
They were both quiet and still for the longest time until she got a twinge in her hip and had to shift. She was going to have to take up yoga if she and Will were going to continue this. She froze. There was no guarantee that this wasn’t just another one off. Especially, if it hadn’t lived up to his memory of his first time.
As if he sensed her change in mood, he raised his head and brushed her hair out of her face. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. Just getting a little sore.”
He tightened his arms around her and lifted her away from the wall. Turning, he carried her into her room and gently lowered her to the mattress. As he leaned over her, his chest brushed across her still sensitive nipples. “I hope you never learn to lie properly.”
She frowned. “What?”
“You’re a terrible liar, love. Makes my life a bit easier, though.” Releasing her, he gently withdrew from her body and straightened. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”
Right. Like she could move. She couldn’t even manage to right her bra or underwear, let alone get off the bed and go anywhere. Closing her eyes, she listened to him clean up in the bathroom while she catalogued the aches she was beginning to feel despite the rush of endorphins that still flooded her body. That had been more of a workout than she’d gotten recently. Not that she was complaining. It had been amazing. Will had been amazing. Will was amazing. And what the hell had he meant about her being a terrible liar making his life easier?
She propped herself up on her elbows and adjusted her underclothes. She didn’t need anything making her feel more vulnerable than she already felt around him.
He walked back into the room, wearing shorts she guessed he’d pulled from his bag and carrying two bottles of water and the takeout container from the fridge. “I thought I told you not to move,” he said, eyebrow arched and a hint of a smile playing around his lips.
“No. You said, ‘don’t go anywhere’, and I didn’t. Stayed right here on the bed.” Now that he wasn’t fucking her senseless, she could better appreciate the stunning perfection of his body. Granted, some people wouldn’t care for the inked designs covering much of his skin. Not that anyone’s opinion but his mattered. After all, it was his body.
He lay on his side next to her, and her eyes traced the wide knotwork band around his upper arm.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“Nothing. Just looking at your tattoos.” Unable to stop herself, she extended a finger and followed a spiraling labyrinth over his side and ribcage. “So, do they all have a special meaning? Or did you just like the images?”
He covered her hand with his, pressing her palm flat to his chest. “This one represents the journey to self.” Lifting his hand, he pointed at the elaborate compass rose on the opposite forearm. “Sailors
used to get this tattooed on their bodies because they believed it would protect them from seas and lead them home if they were lost.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him if he was lost or had been at some point, but she squelched the urge.
She met his gaze, and his lips lifted into a not-quite-smile. “Sometimes, we all need a reminder of how to get to where we belong and how to get back home.”
The words felt heavy and particularly pointed. She wasn’t sure if he’d been referring to only himself or if he’d included her in that explanation, too. There was something about the steady way he gazed at her that made her think that it might be the latter.
Needing to move away from anything that might have him poking at her psyche instead of his, she pointed to the slightly faded red 35 on his shoulder. “What about that? What does that mean?”
He laughed. “That, love, means that I got good and pissed after I signed my first team contract and, after far too much celebrating, had the wrong jersey number inked onto my arm.”
She snorted and shook her head. “Nice.”
“They can’t all be deep and meaningful.” He grinned and handed her one of the bottles.
She cracked it open and took several grateful swallows.
“What about you?” he asked.
She lowered the bottle. “What about me, what?”
“Any tattoos? I admit, I didn’t take the time to look.” He stroked a fingertip down the inside of her thigh. “Though, I plan to make up for that, later.”
A shiver worked though her at the promise in his voice. He stared at her like he still wanted her. She would have thought his curiosity about her would be satisfied by now. They’d pretty much just recreated their first time—well, recreated and improved upon it. And it had been amazing, but she didn’t need him to act like there was going to be more between them. She’d seen the women he usually dated, and they were all thin and perfect. And why the hell hadn’t she put her clothes on when he’d left the room? Now, she was laying here practically naked in broad daylight. And she hadn’t been naked with anyone since Daniel. And they’d been together for nearly ten years. This was so far out of her comfort zone she thought she might hyperventilate.
In Bounds Page 10