It’d been a long time. Way too long. And every part of her wanted Brent. His mouth on hers, his skin sliding on her skin, his hardness in her hand, inside of her. She didn’t think about what would happen tomorrow because right now, all she could think about was him.
As soon as he opened his door, ushered her inside, and shut the door behind him, she was on him. He muffled a grunt as he caught her mid-leap, her legs around his waist, her arms clinging to his neck.
“Jesus,” he mumbled as her lips slid along his stubbled jaw. “Didn’t know crabs were an aphro . . . ” His voice trailed off on a moan as she left hot kisses on his neck. “Aphrodi . . . ” He tried again as his hands dropped to her ass and squeezed. She bit down on the cord of his neck, and he sucked in a breath.
“Aphrodisiac,” she finished for him.
“Huh?” he mumbled.
She lifted her head, so she could look at him in the eye. “Aphrodisiac is the word you were looking for.” She licked her lips. “And I don’t think it was the dinner. I think it’s you.”
And then she kissed him.
Ivy had never been the aggressor during sex, but she couldn’t hold herself back now. Brent stumbled a little under her onslaught, his back hitting the door, but she didn’t stop. She needed this. She needed him. His hands kneaded her ass, and she felt his hardness through his jeans against her panties.
And then . . . the tide turned a little, and she wasn’t in control anymore. Brent was. He licked into her mouth, mumbling her name and words like finally and thank God and holy fuck.
His deep voice rumbled against her chest, and her nipples tightened in her dress. She wanted these clothes off, and thankfully, Brent had the same thought because they were moving now, down a hallway and then upstairs.
Brent tripped a little, but she clung to him like a monkey, and he huffed a laugh into her neck as he regained his balance and continued up the stairs. “I like you holding on tight,” he said into her ear.
And she gripped him tighter, burying her face into his neck.
They crashed into a doorway, and a curse fell from Brent’s lips when she sucked his earlobe into her mouth.
And then there was a mattress at her back, and Brent was on top of her. The skirt of her dress was hiked up to her hips, and the denim of Brent’s jeans chafed the inside of her bare legs.
She ground into him as he pulled down the top of her dress, freed her breasts from the confines of her bra, and sucked a nipple into his hot mouth. She cried out as he swirled his tongue around the peak and nibbled the skin. He flicked his thumb over her other nipple, and she hooked one leg around his waist and curled the other around his thigh. Somehow, her sandals had fallen off, and she curled her toes as Brent shifted to lap at her other nipple. She reached down and tugged on his shirt, wanting it off, wanting skin.
With a groan, Brent allowed her to pull it over his head and then finally—finally—her hands were on the smooth skin of his back as the muscles shifted below her palms. His hand reached between them, and she bit down on his neck as he cupped her over her panties.
“I love when you bite me,” he whispered, and she closed her eyes as he shifted her panties to the side and swiped two fingers through her wetness. “Christ, you’re soaked.” He dropped his head onto her shoulder as his hips ground into her, which pushed his fingers exactly where she needed them.
“Brent . . . ” she whimpered.
“I said I’d take it slow this time,” he said through gritted teeth. “I wanted to take it slow.”
“I don’t want slow. I want you. And if you don’t get these jeans off and get inside me, I’m going to scream.”
He lifted his head and grinned at her. “That’s the idea, though—to make you scream.”
She dug her nails into his back. “I dare you.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re baiting me, woman.”
She licked her lips, unsure who this woman was right now, goading the man on top of her, who was clearly hanging on by a fraying thread. “Are you going to take the bait?”
With a curse, he was off her, ripping off the rest of his clothes and then pulling off hers. He pulled out a condom from a dresser drawer near the door. He stood at the end of the bed, stroking his cock, burning gaze on her.
His light eyes reflected the moonlight creeping in through a crack in the curtains. And now she knew why Brent sitting shirtless in a truck was a damn good plan. Because holy mother of Hercules, was he gorgeous. And . . . pierced.
A small silver ring glinted in each nipple, and she bit her lip as she imagined flicking those with her tongue.
And his cock was long and thick, the muscles of his thighs bulging as he stood above her. She’d seen what those thighs could do. Carry her daughter to safety, and then carry Ivy up the stairs so he could fuck her brains out.
She was on board with both.
He rolled a condom down his length, and she whispered, “Come here,” spreading her legs as he put a knee to the bed and fell between them.
This kiss was slower. This kiss was full of promise and intent, and she didn’t know Brent had this in him—to kiss like this.
He cupped her face like she was precious as he plundered her mouth. She felt the head of his cock nudge her entrance. She broke the kiss and looked him in the eye. “You going to make me scream now?”
HE’D NEVER SEEN anything so beautiful. Ivy’s blue eyes shone in the moonlight; her dark hair was spread out around her head on his sheets.
Her breasts were full, her nipples wet and red from his mouth. She was tiny yet curvy, with a rounded belly and full hips and thick thighs.
He wanted . . . Fuck, he wanted everything. To be inside of her, to be against her, to consume her.
And she was looking up at him with swollen lips, asking him to make her scream.
He sat back on his heels, spread his legs, and pulled her flush against him, her legs on either side of his thighs. For a little thing, she was surprisingly limber, which only made him hotter.
He stroked his cock as he looked at her, pink and wet and ready for him. Before he could go further, her hand, which had been resting on her chest, slipped down between her breasts. He lifted his gaze to her. She was watching him, her top teeth sawing her bottom lip. He returned his gaze to her hand and watched as it dipped down, down, over her belly button, and then—sweet mother of God—she circled her clit with a middle finger, threw her head back, and moaned.
Brent swore he stopped breathing. Just . . . stopped. Because really, this moment was so many of his fantasies rolled into one that he thought if he moved he’d wake up from this dream.
He didn’t want to wake up, not ever, because Ivy, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, was in his bed, touching herself, her little fingers moving swiftly through her wet folds, and he didn’t want to interrupt. Nope, not one bit. She knew what she was doing. Her gaze was back on him now. This was a show. It was a show for him, because of him.
“Are you still baiting me, Ivy?” he whispered, his eyes on her slick fingers.
“Is it working?” she whispered back.
He pointed to his cock, which was hard to the point of painful. “What does that look like?”
Her mouth fell open as she circled her clit again. “It looks like you want to make me scream.”
He ran a hand up her calf. “Damn right I do.” He thought that if he didn’t get inside her in the next thirty seconds, he’d come without even touching himself.
Slowly, she pulled her hand away from herself and reached for him. Her fingers grazed his balls and then stroked his cock once. Twice.
And that was all he could take. On a pained groan, he wrapped his hands around the underside of her thighs and shoved her onto his cock. She screamed.
She fucking screamed.
He thrust his hips as he pulled on her thighs on a steady rhythm. She writhed below him, chanting his name as he watched himself plunge into her body again and again. Her breasts bounced, and although this view w
as fucking spectacular, he wanted to feel her on him, all around him.
He dropped her thighs and fell on top of her, bracing himself on his forearms on either side of the bed.
“Yesssss,” she hissed as he curled her arms around his back. He hiked one of her legs up on his hip, braced his knees in the bed, and began to really fuck.
She was loud—loud as shit—and Brent didn’t care if the whole fucking neighborhood heard her because this was his woman, and he was making her feel like this, and he was so fucking glad he was getting the chance.
Her mouth was open, and although she tried to keep her gaze on him, she was failing, as her head lolled, her neck arched. He leaned to the side and reached between them, needing her to get off now because he was going to lose it any minute.
“You gotta come, Ivy.” He clenched his jaw as he began to rub her clit. “You close?”
She didn’t answer him, and he figured that was a damn good answer. If she couldn’t even speak, he was doing something right.
She was hot and tight as hell. The whole room smelled like sex and Ivy—and goddammit but this moment was perfect. “You feel so fucking amazing,” he whispered. “Like a fucking dream. You are a fucking dream, touching yourself on my bed, for me. Do you feel how much you turned me on? This is because of you that I’m this hard, that I hurt so bad. This is only for you.”
She began to whimper, small noises in the back of her throat, as her nails dug into the skin of his back. He liked the pain, relished it, as his balls drew up tight.
“Breeeennt,” she said on a gasp, and then she was there, convulsing around him, the orgasm pounding through her, and he couldn’t wait any longer, not when she was squeezing his cock from the inside. He shoved his face into her neck as her little teeth clamped onto his shoulder, and they shuddered together as the entire world tilted.
He didn’t move, unsure if his limbs even worked; plus, her mouth was still on his skin, and until she unlocked her jaw, he wasn’t going to be able to get away without losing a chunk of flesh from his shoulder.
He caressed her thigh slung over his hip, and he might have said some words, or they could have been gibberish or just moans—he wasn’t sure.
Finally, soft kisses replaced her teeth in his shoulder and then a whispered, “Oh, that’s going to leave a mark.”
He laughed into her neck, and she giggled beneath him. He pulled away gently, sighing as he slipped from her body.
Her eyes were softer now, her face flushed from her orgasm. He placed a hand on her cheek, rubbing his thumb on her lips. “So I took the bait.”
“You did.”
“How’d I do?”
She smiled. “I can’t feel my legs. So I think you did all right.”
Chapter Sixteen
BRENT HAD FRECKLES on his shoulder. Ivy tried to count them but got distracted by how soft his skin was and had to start over.
His eyes were half open, watching her. After Brent had cleaned them up, he’d crawled back into bed, and for once, that smirking, dirty mouth was silent. And Ivy had no idea what to say, just because there was so damn much to say. Brent wasn’t filling the silence with ramblings or funny stories.
He was waiting on her, she knew.
She rolled onto her side and propped her head up on her hand. The sheet slipped down to her waist, and she didn’t fix it. Brent’s gaze dropped lazily to her breasts and then slowly, reluctantly, back up to her face. And there it stayed.
“So do you remember back at the garage, when I told you that I would have turned down a date with you but not for the reasons you think?” she asked.
He nodded slowly.
She fidgeted with the edge of the pillowcase. “I mean, you probably thought I would have said no because I thought you were a jerk, right?”
He nodded again.
She bit her lip. “Well, that’s not why I would have said no. I . . . ” She sighed, trying to work out the words in her head before she spoke them. “I would have said no because there was something about you that told me you were dangerous. For my heart. You do slip past my thorns, and at first, I didn’t want you there. Poking at all my vulnerable places.”
He pushed himself up onto his forearms. “And now? Do you want me there?”
She swallowed. “I want you there. I like you there. You . . . fit. I’ve never met a man who fits me like you do.”
And then he was over her, slotting into all her empty places, kissing her, and running those big hands over her skin, and she melted into him, accepting this, even though she knew it would make her life a mess.
Because this feeling was worth it. Brent was worth it. And for once in her life, a man didn’t make her feel like she was disposable.
He was slipping down her body now, placing wet kisses between her breasts, on her belly, on her hips. She threaded her fingers through his hair as he went lower, lower, settling his shoulders between her legs until his hot breath was coating her still-sensitive flesh.
“Brent . . . ” She moaned, lifting a leg onto his shoulder.
“Relax.” He fingers spread her open. “I’m going to enjoy where I fit best on you.”
And then his mouth was on her. Soft at first, gentle licks and nudges. He was taking his time, not rushing now, just like he promised he would. With a thumb, he gently swirled her clit while his tongue probed her entrance. She gasped, her hips arching off the bed before he gripped her waist and brought her back down on the mattress.
She was exposed completely. Bared to his gaze and his touch, and she swore he’d reached inside and held her beating heart in his hands.
He licked her harder now, sucking, and she was impossibly wet, so turned on she wasn’t sure if she could take another minute.
She tugged on his hair. “Brent—”
“Not done,” he mumbled, his voice vibrating against her.
“I want to come on top of you,” she whispered.
And that stopped him with his tongue mid-lick. “What?”
“I want to ride you,” she said.
And then Brent wasn’t between her legs anymore, and her back was no longer touching the mattress. In a move that could definitely have rivaled the strength of Captain America, Brent had settled onto the mattress on his back and placed her astride of him. He grabbed another condom and rolled it down his length. “Love how small you are,” he mumbled, his eyes on his hands, which were gliding over her hips. “Move you right where I want you.”
“Love how strong you are.” Ivy lifted her hips and positioned his hard cock at her entrance. “Move me right where I want to be.”
And then she sank down with a cry.
She didn’t stop to enjoy the feel of him inside of her, because every muscle screamed at her to move. This had always been her favorite position; she could come better this way, in control.
And Brent . . . Brent loved it too, if his slack-jawed expression was any indication. It was like he didn’t know where to look—her face, breasts, or between her legs, where he plunged in and out of her as she rode him hard.
She gave it everything she had, grinding down on him, rolling her hips. She leaned down, bracing herself on his chest, pushing her breasts together, and he cursed. “Jesus Christ, if you only knew how fucking hot you look right now.”
She flung her head back, loving how he looked at her, loving how he felt inside her, and not wanting this to end.
But it had to, because her toes were curling, and the orgasm was building as Brent’s cock inside her hit that spot over and over again that she only could find in this position.
And Brent was close too. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and his jaw was tense, his head thrown back so the cords in his neck stood out.
Then he lowered his head, locking eyes with her. And she was done.
She cried out as her inner muscles clamped around Brent inside her. He continued fucking her through it, even though she couldn’t keep her eyes open. She collapsed on top of him, and as his arms encircled her, he
grunted into her neck, his hips stuttering as he came too.
His breath was hot on her shoulder, and it wasn’t until her jaw began to ache that she realized she’d bitten him again. She really needed to curb this vampire-sex thing.
She nuzzled the skin where she’d left teeth marks and then coasted her lips over his neck, up to his ear.
Brent hadn’t let her go. One big hand cupped the back of her head; the other was slashed over her waist. He . . . cradled her. Held her. Like she was precious.
And she squeezed him right back, wanting him to understand he was just as precious, that he’d given her Ivy back, the Ivy she’d been when she hadn’t been so angry at all men.
Because there were good ones out there. Although she’d found the best one.
“I’ll tell Alex,” she said softly into his ear. “I’ll tell her about us. That it’s serious. That we’re together. Okay?”
He rolled them to the side so he slipped from her body. His gaze roamed her face. “You sure?”
She was five seconds away from telling him about their past. And why they’d moved, and why telling Alex was so hard. But she wanted permission from Alex first. Brent was Alex’s coworker, his boss, and Ivy didn’t want to talk about her business. But she could give Brent something. “It’s just been hard for us. Violet’s father . . . was a prick. I wasn’t a nun when I was a teenager, but when I was with him, I was committed. When I got pregnant—which we planned—he changed his mind and then told everyone that he didn’t even know if the kid was his. It was a mess, and everyone turned on me. I didn’t want Violet growing up around that so I left town. And started over.” She brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. “So you see why I’m a little gun-shy?”
The muscle in his jaw ticked. “I get that he’s Violet’s father, but he’s a fucking asshole.”
“He is.”
Brent cupped her face. “But I’m not him, Ivy.”
“I know that—”
“No, I need you to get that. Look at me.” She did, staring into his pale eyes that were so serious. “I’m not him.”
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