By the time Edward brings both of his hands to fist in my hair, holding me locked in place as he bucks up into my mouth, fucking me every bit as hard and deep as the man in the garden took his partner’s mouth, I’m flying. I’m also drooling and tears stream from the corners of my eyes, but I’m not embarrassed or ashamed.
I’m pleasing him, pleasuring him, unraveling this man who thrives on control. He’s so wild—his breath coming in sharp, guttural rasps—that I’m certain he’s going to come in my mouth.
But instead, Edward suddenly hauls me up his body by the hair and fuses his lips to mine. I don’t have a spare second to wipe the saliva from my chin, but it’s obvious that Edward doesn’t care.
“You’re so fucking incredible,” he growls against my lips as he reaches between our bodies, sliding his fingers through my wetness. “I love the way you trust me. I want you to trust me—always—because I’m never going to hurt you again, Ivy, I promise.”
He’s talking feelings, breaking the conditions we agreed upon, but I don’t care. All I care about is having Edward so deep inside of me that there’s no room for anything but him.
“Show me,” I whisper into his mouth. “Let me feel it.”
Without another word, he reaches for the backs of my thighs, lifting me higher until his cock fits against where my body weeps for him. And then, inch by glorious inch, he fills me. Deeper, deeper until he’s buried to the hilt, the base of his cock throbbing at my entrance. Each pulse builds the intensity of sensation, sending nirvana dancing across my skin, bubbling through my blood.
“Yes,” I whisper, rolling my hips. “More.”
He groans, placing a firm hand on my bottom, holding me still. “Wait. I want to remember the way you feel. Nothing has felt this good in so fucking long.”
I shudder, ducking my head to hide my face in the curve of his neck. “You, too. It’s so good. I could come right now if you told me to.”
“Not yet,” he says, fingers digging into my flesh. “Wait until I tell you to come on your cock.” He cups my breast with his free hand, pinching my nipple hard enough to make me gasp. “Because it is yours, princess. I want you to know that.”
I pull back, bracing my hands on the rough stone beneath his head. For a moment, I’m tempted to lift his mask and drop the game. I want to see him, just him, without the disguise.
But another voice in my head says that this is better.
The masks and the game give us something to hide behind. And maybe it’s better to keep some things hidden here in this garden that seems to magically dissolve inhibitions. So I swallow the words rising in my throat, the ones that want to ask if he realizes how rare and precious it is to be able to come together so seamlessly after so much time apart.
Instead, I nod and whisper, “I’ll come when you tell me to, sir.”
He squeezes my ass tighter. “Lean forward. I need your tits in my mouth. Now.”
I obey and Edward sets to work proving that he is, as always, the very best. He teases, licks, bites, and strokes, all the while keeping me pinned tight to him with the flat of his hand. And then he captures my nipple and sucks it deep, trapping the puckered tip against the top of his mouth.
My spine bows, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out as a wave of desire slams through me hard enough to make me flinch. My teeth dig deep into my lip, sending a flash of pain down my throat, but I don’t ease up. I’m so close to losing control, to screaming, crying, begging for him to fuck me. My fingers are clawing into his shoulders through his shirt, and I’m wiggling desperately on top of him, but he’s holding me too tight for the rolls of my hips to do any good.
“Wait.” He swats my ass as he takes my other nipple in his mouth. The sound echoes through the otherwise quiet night, making my eyes go wide.
My gaze flies back to the sculpture garden, but the two men are gone. Evidently neither of them is a proponent of extended, prolonged, erotic torture. Unlike Edward…the wicked, wonderful son of a bitch.
“I hate you, sir,” I hiss, moaning as his teeth drag across the sensitized tip of my breast.
“No you don’t.” He sounds amused, though I know he must be suffering as much as I am. His cock feels even thicker inside me, and his thighs are starting to shake beneath mine. “You love me. Admit it, Prescott.”
I glare down at him, rethinking the wisdom of masks and broken rules.
How dare he do this? Now, when I’m clearly nowhere close to being in my right mind?
With a trembling hand, I flip his mask off, deciding it’s time for one of us to get real.
“You first,” I demand, anger vibrating in my voice. But it’s hard to hold onto my outrage. Now that the mask is gone, the moonlight is enough to reveal the tenderness in Edward’s unguarded expression. My anger evaporates, leaving a haunting mixture of confusion and longing in its place.
“I love you,” he says, without missing a beat. “Six years ago, I loved you enough to let you grow up without me hanging around to screw things up for you. I didn’t want to be bad for you, Ivy. I had to give you time, but I hope I haven’t given you too much. Because I need you in my life, princess. I need you so much.”
I shake my head slightly, too stunned to speak. And then, finally, the pressure on my tailbone lifts and I’m free to move. I shift forward with a sigh of relief that’s eclipsed by Edward’s groan of pleasure as I slide back down, taking him deep.
“You’re so good.” His hands come to my hips, pulling me tighter to him as I rise and fall again. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I want to be the same for you. Let’s happen to each other again.”
My brow furrows and my lips part, but I can’t form words. All I can do is hold Edward’s gaze as I ride him and all the old feelings come rising to the surface. They don’t have far to travel. He’s always been in my thoughts, my dreams, my fantasies, no matter how hard I’ve tried to move on and find someone else to give my heart to.
But there’s never been anyone else. It was always Edward.
Edward when I was sixteen and he was the first person to tell me that I was beautiful. Edward when he was still a big-brother figure, warning me to be careful because boys wouldn’t be able to resist a light that shone as bright as mine. Edward when I was twenty and finally able to convince him that I wasn’t a little girl anymore. I was a woman who was ready to give him her body, her soul, her heart.
And it’s still Edward now that I’m an adult who knows what she wants and who can admit to herself—for better or worse—that the answer is this man. He’s what I want, him and only him. Because whether the time I have left on earth is long or short, it will never be as much time as I need to be with him like this.
I’m about to tell him, to confess that I still love him, too, but he hauls my lips to his and kisses me until I’m breathless. Soon I’m incapable of doing anything but holding on tight as Edward thrusts sharply between my legs, taking us both higher, higher, until he brings his lips to my ear and whispers,
“Now, beautiful. Come on your cock. Come on me, princess.”
And I do. I come in thick, sticky waves, my inner walls squeezing him tight as his cock jerks inside me and the molten heat of his release fills me up. And it’s so good I can’t hold back the words rising in my throat, words and cries and a long, low, animal groan that certainly isn’t the most delicate thing to ever come out of my mouth, but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything but how insanely good this is.
So good that when we’re done I collapse onto Edward’s chest with a sigh of complete and utter satisfaction. I’m so blissed out that I forget where I am until a loud voice at the base of the wall pierces the cool night air.
“Climbing on the historical landmarks is not permitted!”
Edward curses beneath his breath as I scramble off him so fast I misjudge the distance between his leg and the edge of the wall.
I realize my disastrous mistake, but I barely have time to yip in surprise before I tu
mble over the side and plummet through the air.
Chapter Nine
Edward
Heart in my throat, I lunge for Ivy, but I’m not fast enough. My fingers snatch at the air inches from her arm, and then she’s gone.
My chest goes so tight I can barely breathe as I tuck myself back into my pants and prepare to go after her. It’s only ten feet to the ground, but that’s far enough to break a bone, maybe even give her a concussion if she lands the wrong way.
And if she’s hurt I will never forgive myself.
I should have exercised more control. I should have made sure we were on solid ground before sliding inside her. I should have remembered that this was Ivy, the woman who drives me fucking out of my mind, and taken the necessary precautions.
I’m still cursing my poor decision making when I look over to see two men in red masks detangling Ivy from a bush that must have broken her fall. She looks a little dazed, but blissfully unhurt.
“Are you all right?” I ask, just to be sure.
“Um…yes?” she says as she’s set on her feet. The taller man reaches out, pulling a twig from her hair. “Yes. I’m fine.” She bites her lip, casting a guilty look up at her rescuer. “I’m sorry. I… We….” She motions weakly toward me with a clearly forced smile. “We’re both sorry. And thank you.”
“Our pleasure, miss,” the other man says before glancing my way. “Do you need assistance, sir?”
“No, thank you.” I snap my mask back into place and then roll onto my stomach, dropping my legs over the side of the wall and finding the first foothold. A few seconds later, I’m jumping lightly to the ground and extending a hand to shake with one bouncer and then the other. “Thank you again for your help, and sorry for any trouble. We didn’t realize the walls were off limits.”
“No trouble at all, sir,” the taller man says.
“Just try to keep your feet on the ground,” his friend says in a crankier voice. “Or a little closer to it, anyway. I’ve never had a guest injured on my watch, and I’d rather not start tonight.”
Ivy crosses her arms and tucks her chin, the picture of mortification. “We understand. And again, we’re sorry.”
“Very sorry,” I agree with a smile, looping an arm around Ivy’s waist, too thankful that she’s in one piece to take issue with the guard’s tone.
“Enjoy the rest of your night.” The guard who pulled Ivy from the bushes nods my way, and the pair of them move along the path in search of other guests who might be bending the rules.
When I’m sure they’re out of earshot, I lean closer to Ivy and ask, “Do you think the boys in the sculpture garden saw us up there spying and ratted us out?”
“Oh God, I hope not.” Ivy’s hands come to cover the eyeholes in her mask. “I’m already embarrassed enough.”
I hug her closer. “Don’t be embarrassed. There’s no reason to be embarrassed.”
“No reason?” She drops her hands to her sides with a huff. “We were doing it on top of a wall and then I fell off the wall, flashing two complete strangers on the way down. And to top it off, I have no idea where my panties are.”
“It doesn’t matter. Panties are overrated.”
She steps out of my arms and turns back to me with narrowed eyes. “I’m serious, Edward. This level of shame wasn’t on my agenda tonight.”
I shrug. “I’m just glad you weren’t hurt. Who cares what those men saw?”
“I care.” She jabs a thumb at her chest, where one of her beautiful breasts is doing its best to escape again. “Just like I care that they saw us together. That’s not something I wanted to share with other people tonight, and you know it.”
I motion back toward the wall. “But you said—”
“Yes, I agreed in the heat of the moment,” she says, pacing away, waving an agitated hand in the air. “I would have probably agreed to torturing baby bunnies in the heat of the moment, as long as you let me come afterward. That’s why I asked you to agree to my conditions earlier, before we were both half naked. But instead of respecting my limits, you broke both of your promises in less than an hour, Edward. And that’s not cool.”
I nod, jaw clenching. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Her shoulders rise and fall as she shakes her head. “You’re sorry? That’s it?”
“What else do you want me to say? That I wish I hadn’t fucked you, or told you that I’m still in love with you? Because I can’t do that, Ivy. Fucking you was the best thing that’s happened to me in years, and I do love you. I never stopped loving you.”
She presses her lips tight, her eyes shining in the dark ovals of her mask. “How can you love me? How can either of us know what’s real on a night like this, in a place like this? This is…” Her hands flap helplessly at her sides, making her look like that sixteen-year-old girl I met the first time I accepted Aaron’s invitation to come home with him, not long after both of my parents were killed. “This is Wonderland with sex, Edward. Through the Looking Glass with more voyeurism and toys.”
“Wonderland for grown-ups,” I agree, determined to get us back on the right track. “And what’s wrong with that? You were having fun before we got caught by the wall police. Don’t try to deny it.”
Her eyes squeeze closed before she opens them again. “I’m not trying to deny it,” she says in a softer voice. “And I do have feelings for you, but this isn’t how I want to explore them. I’m not ready. Not tonight. For a moment, I thought maybe…” She trails off with a shake of her head. “But I’m not. I’m really not. And that’s why I needed rules, a safe word, and some boundaries I could count on.”
Fuck, she’s right. I should have known better than to push her while we were playing. I did know better. I just wanted Ivy more than I wanted to be a good Dom. But I need to be both if I want to be worthy of her.
I take her hands, grateful when her fingers curl around mine. “I get it. And you’re right, I should have taken your conditions as seriously as I would a safe word. That was a mistake. I messed up, and I’m sorry. I hope you’ll give me a chance to make it up to you.”
Her gaze falls to the grass at our feet. “You don’t have to do that.”
“No, I do. I want to. And I have an idea how to start.” I tuck her hand into the crook of my arm. “Would you be willing to accept a glass of wine by way of apology?”
She glances up at me, mouth softening. “Make that a bottle for us to share, and you’ve got a deal.”
“Done.” I pat her hand as we start up the path toward the lights at the top of the hill. “And while we drink, I’ll do my best to think of other ways to make amends for being a less than ideal Master of ceremonies our first time out.”
She walks quietly beside me for a moment before she says, “You weren’t less than ideal. While we were in the sculpture garden, I kept thinking…” She ducks her head. “I kept thinking that I’d never felt as safe during a scene as I felt with you. It was perfect. Better than perfect.”
“And then I let you fall.” I hate that it’s my fault our night has taken a turn for the worse, but I know how important it is to own my mistakes.
“You didn’t let me fall,” she says with a sigh. “But I did fall. Falls still happen, despite all the best intentions.”
And with those words, she tells me so much more than she knows. Making amends for my mistakes is one thing, but convincing a woman who’s afraid to fall that love is worth the risk is another animal altogether.
But I’m not about to give up. Not tonight or tomorrow or any of the days after. Ivy is the one for me, the only woman who has ever made me feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Now I just have to prove to her that the magic we make when we’re together is worth the risk, worth anything it takes to find our way back to each other.
Chapter Ten
Ivy
The castle looks more like a church than I expected it to. The rough-hewn stones form frames for heavy wood doors and stained glass windows tha
t give the structure a gothic feel. The vibe continues in the rose garden behind the building, where elegantly carved wooden chairs and tables for two are evenly scattered along a circular path.
At the center of the winding gravel walkway sits a large stone bar manned by women in red masks, and another beefy security guard type who stands watch by a buffet offering fruit, pastries, and other light snacks.
Edward orders a bottle of unfiltered chardonnay from California’s Alexander Valley that he assures me is even the more delicious for the funk we may find floating at the bottom, and we settle in at a table near a white rose bush. It’s early in the year for roses, but tiny, tightly-curled buds already peek out from beneath the dark green leaves, promising that it’s going to be a good year for beautiful things.
If I were the kind to believe in omens, I suppose it would be a good one.
But I’m not. I’m practical, logical to the bone. And every logical bone in my body is screaming that now is the time for caution, not romance or signs or second-chance daydreams.
“Would you like something to eat?” Edward nods toward the buffet.
I shake my head. “No, thank you.” Suddenly feeling shy, I run a finger lightly down my wine glass, capturing a drop of condensation before it can pool on the table. Conversation shouldn’t be harder than sex and submission, but it is. Letting a man dominate me is something that’s become familiar in recent months. But letting down my walls, letting someone close enough to see the scars on my heart and the cracks in my confidence isn’t something I’ve done in…
Well, in a long time.
Probably too long.
Maybe I should let Edward in, let him see that I’m not as perfectly pulled together and successful as he thinks I am, not even close.
We’re basically alone. The high backs of the chairs and the darkness beyond the candle flickering on the table between us makes it feel like we’re the only people in the world. If I strain my ears, I can hear voices murmuring from not far away, but I can’t make out words. If I wanted to confess my secrets, this is as good a place as any.
A Down and Dirty Christmas: Spend Christmas on the Naughty List Page 19