by Melissa Blue
He moved his hands down to her waist. She gasped in his mouth as his dick pressed into her stomach. She squirmed against him, heating his blood even more. Not in the kitchen, a daft voice whispered. He deepened the kiss and ignored it. She wanted this and this is what he could give her—sex. Cupping her arse, he groaned and kneaded the plump flesh.
She tasted of wine. How much liquid courage had she needed to even walk out her door? And what did he plan to do? Take her on a table. Fuck. He broke the kiss, annoyed with the way his gut twisted.
She blinked at him, her face flushed. “What is it?” she asked.
He kissed her again instead of answering and walked forward toward his room. She let him lead the way, once again pounding in the fact she relied on him to make this something it wasn't. And fuck if he could ignore that.
She moaned and he pushed her against the nearest wall, biting her soft, swollen lips just to hear the sound again. Ivy melted into him, her breath stuttering out. How could a woman who used the word fuck like a decoration for her sentences be this soft? So open? Did she not know he could take her right there against the wall and sleep like the dead after he kicked her out?
“Ivy,” he murmured against her mouth. He wanted to shake her and then bend her over. It was fucking with his head.
“You're still being nice. Where's the beast you promised?”
He jerked her from the wall, pushed her toward his room. Just a few more feet and then he could be the man he knew he was. Inside the doorway, she caught his lip between her teeth, a wicked gleam in her eyes like she could read the intent in his gaze. He had to stop again just to lick into her mouth. This time her moan sounded like vindication. She had him mindless and knew it.
Fuck if he didn't like her more for that. He pushed her away again, grunting his irritation at her insight, and that only made her smile.
She licked her lips practically begging for him to take another bite. “Why'd you stop? We were just getting to the good part.”
Her hands rode down his torso. An absent touch that sent a sharp-edge of need through him. He grabbed the hem of her dress. “I want you naked, lass.”
“Oh.” The catch in the single word was subtle but he'd heard it. “Okay. Um...”
Just like that her bravado evaporated. He needed her bold and teasing. “Don't go shy now, Ivy. You're supposed to make me beg then take you hard.”
She tipped her mouth up to his and bit him. There, that's my lass. He groaned his approval but still his hands turned gentle while he tugged the thin material up. She was shaking. Fuck.
Marcus broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. “Do you need me to stop?”
Her eyes were so wide. “Are you scared of a virgin, Marcus?”
He chuckled and pulled the dress over her head. Any blood left drained to his cock. She hadn't worn any underwear. The perky heft of Ivy's tits was all her. Her mound was left bare and perfect.
Ivy worried her bottom lip as he continued to eat up the sight of her naked. That wouldn't do.
He pushed out a breath, nice and slow. “Keep the heels on, but sit on the bed and watch.”
When she didn't move, he placed a hand on her flat stomach and guided her backward onto his mattress. Her gaze fixed on his hands when he stepped away and pulled off his shirt. The right move, because she leaned onto the bed, her lids swimming low.
“Better,” he murmured.
She nodded likely assuming it was a question. He tucked a thumb behind the button on his jeans and her stare followed the movement. Hunger danced in her eyes. He gave her the show, taking his time pulling down his zipper then pants and underwear. His cock sprang free, heavy and thick. She balled her hands into his comforter.
Ivy looked into his eyes and backed up on the bed. He didn't know what she saw when their gazes met. Didn't matter because he climbed on after her, chasing her. She let out a soft squeak when he grabbed her ankle and yanked her down the bed so she'd be beneath him.
“Running, already?” His smile was probably predatory.
“Marcus...” She threw a hand over her breasts to hide from his open perusal.
“Aye?” He worked his hands up her thighs, spreading her open so he could rest between her legs. When no answer came, so did the need to soothe instead of seduce. She was twisting him up and he didn't know how to fight it.
“Are you scared?” he asked. His heart was beating so fucking fast.
She shook her head but shrank into the pillows. “Should we be naked already? I think we should put some clothes back on.”
It was the tremor in her voice that stilled him. No, he hadn't planned to plunge into her without a thought. Marcus wasn't a barbarian, but her nerves had turned into wide-eye fear. She continued to shake beneath him and it wasn't from any cold.
Again, he sucked air through his nose to tamp down the need to have her. Another breath and then he settled between her legs to share his body heat. Marcus wasn't sure if the gesture helped, because his cock pressed against her inner thigh. Her sharp intake of air made his stomach clench.
He brushed his mouth against hers. She shifted under him. Her skin felt so soft against his, much warmer, too, but still she was trembling.
“What do you need, Ivy?”
She cupped his face and brought him down into a kiss. If it was all hunger he would have fallen into it, but he could almost taste the fear.
“I'm just going to touch you, lass. Don't be scared.”
“Okay,” she murmured.
He spread her legs a little wider and loomed over her so he could trail his fingers up and down her torso. He teased her nipples with his fingertips, caressed the sides of her breasts and before long she was squirming.
The shaky inhalations turned into moans. He felt safe in venturing from her mouth to her neck. She tilted her head to give him all the room he needed to explore, to lick and kiss her skin to his heart's content. Aye, this was what she needed.
Marcus buried his head in the crook of her neck and breathed her in. As always she smelled of flowers. Stronger than the last time she'd allowed him this close. Sweeter, richer...He took a nice long suck to take in the taste of her. Another tremble racked through her body. This time though the reaction wasn't born from fear but need.
His dick throbbed between them, protesting silently. She made it worse by squirming as he left marks along her neck. Her soft skin rubbed against the head of his cock, just a tease of what he could have if only he moved an inch to the left. He balled his fists into the comforter, not stopping even when he started to leave traces of precum along her thigh.
“Marcus, that feels so good.”
For him it was torture. So it was only fair to return the favor. He lowered, grazing his mouth along her flesh until he could take her nipple between his teeth. A soft nip, a harder suck and then lavishing the tight bud with his tongue became the punishment he dealt.
He had to pin her hips down to keep her from wiggling. Even as he moved from breast to breast, he didn't let up on his sensual assault. When he slipped his fingers down to her pussy, he wanted to find her soaking wet. More importantly, when Ivy thought about this night, he wanted her to moan and have her pussy quake at the memory of the pleasure he'd promised and delivered.
With that vow in mind, he kissed the valley of her breasts and then tongued her skin as he lowered.
Her stomach muscles jerked as a soft pant spilled from her throat. “What are you doing?”
“The exact thing you want me to do.” Marcus paused for the longest moment. “Unless you want me to stop.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.
“Good answer,” he murmured then put his lips back on her.
He spent a great deal of time on her sensitive belly button. Her moans became more frequent, deeper. Her mindless was the way it was supposed to be. His need burrowed deeper, making his breathing harsh against her skin. No breaks. He was so close to the coup de grace that would send her over the edge.
Marcus glanced up. Her eyes were open again, watching him.
Need had fought back the nerves and fear. Her mouth was parted and she'd placed a hand on his headboard as though she needed something to hold onto.
“Are you still scared?” he asked.
She rocked her hips up, shaking her head. “I want this, Marcus. I want your mouth on me.”
He placed his thumb above the slit of her pussy and pulled the skin taut. Her clit peaked out from the folds, wet from her arousal. “Maybe I'll just give you my tongue instead. Is that what you want?” he teased with a smile.
“Yes.”
She moaned, raising her hips until they were slightly off the bed. He bent down and tasted her cream. He didn't even have to lick her that deeply. Her outer lips were soaked. She stilled, gasping his name. He groaned against her clit. Whatever reservations he had left fell away.
This he knew—passion, desire, red hot need that stiffened his cock and made his mouth water for the taste of pussy. Didn't matter if he was her first. He craved this simple pleasure, knew this—if nothing else—he could provide and give until he was spent.
Marcus moved his head left to right to bury his mouth deeper into her pussy lips and then placed the tip of his tongue to her clit. He started with soft, slow licks then hard fast flicks as she rolled her hips and moaned. With just his mouth he controlled her like a puppet master.
When she gripped his hair with one hand, half sitting up with her head thrown back, he knew she was close. And because he knew what would come next, he slipped a finger inside her. Working her higher, feeling the clutch of her walls with the first sign of a climax. When her moans pitched low enough to be a growl, he worked to get two fingers in to fuck her to the finish line. It was a tighter fit, but her cream eased the way. His cock throbbed, impatient for its turn, and her moans were like a caress down his shaft to his balls.
He fucked her with his fingers and continued to whip her clit with his tongue. She stiffened, her cries a mewling whimper and then she shuddered, squeezing his fingers so tight. She rode the orgasm long and hard, back bowed, head tilted—fucking beautiful as she lost control to the sensation. He'd never witnessed something so pure, unadulterated.
Fucking her wasn't enough. He wanted a piece of her to keep forever. If her scent, the sight of her flushed and naked wasn't right there, Marcus might have stopped and backed away. Or even just taken a moment to let the words he'd thought sink in. His blood was pumping too hard. Nothing but her soft sighs got past the roar in his ears.
“Oh, Marcus. Oh, my God.” She bit her bottom lip and moaned again.
Aye. That was the end of rational thought. Marcus remained between her legs but leaned over the bed to grab his jeans. Swift, graceful movements and the condom he'd pocketed was slipped over his cock. It was well past time for her to be wrapped tight and wet around him.
He brought his attention back up to her and his stomach dropped. The high of her orgasm had cleared. Her gaze was too stark, eyes too wide. Sex with him had turned real again and not a hazy seduction.
“Fuck.” Marcus sighed.
Ivy crossed her arms over her chest. Pointing out he'd seen it all, sucked and licked it, wouldn't help things. He braced his forearms on the bed and curled into her warmth. He had to shift to the right to keep his dick from acting like a heat seeking missile.
Once he'd settled into her, he whispered in her ear, “Tell me what scares you about this.”
“Is it going to hurt?” Her voice was husky, a little raw and much too soft.
He swallowed another curse. “Maybe.”
She shook her head, arms tightening around her like a shield. “I wanted the lie.”
He thought about that. “If you aren't tense it'll hurt less.” Which was a crock of shite. If it was going to hurt, it would hurt.
“Okay.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I'm a rip the Band-Aid off kind of girl.”
She shifted and his dick pressed against her clit. He gritted his teeth. “Be still.”
“Sorry.”
“Don't apologize. Just...” He groaned and then kissed her neck. “I'm a shite. I want you so much right now, Ivy. I'll tell you anything.”
To his surprise, she laughed, uncrossing her arms. He groaned again as their bodies melded together.
“Fucking killing me,” he muttered.
“Your accent is so thick.”
She rocked her hips and he had no idea what he said as his dick slipped against her wet core. Ivy kept up the sultry movements, running her hands down his back until she gripped his arse. He could only grind into her, needing the friction against the pulse in his cock. He was going blind from need, shaky and sweaty. Embarrassing if he could think, but his brain was blood starved.
When his balls drew tight and that familiar tingling sensation started at the base of his spine, he pressed a hand to her hip to give his dick some space. “Are we done, lass? I can't take this. Tell me you're ready—or fuck me, if you're not.”
She turned her head to meet his mouth. He bit her, not soft or kind before pulling back. “Yes or no?” he growled.
“Yes, I still want you inside me.”
He traced her bottom lip with his tongue, seeking the invitation and she gave it with a sigh, relaxing underneath him. He reached between them, letting is fingers find exactly what he was looking for.
Her clit was swollen and still wet from her come and his tongue. He let his thumb glide over the nub, pushing her to the edge again as she moaned into his mouth, moving her hips as though he was already fucking her. He kissed and touched her until she was boneless under him.
Then, only then, did he take his cock in his hand and press the tip to her soaking entrance.
“Relax, I promise to stop if it hurts too much. I promise,” he murmured.
“Okay.”
He wet the tip of his cock more to ease his way, his jaw clenching. She relaxed deeper into the mattress. There. Marcus pushed inside her in one short thrust. She gasped as her nails dug into his arse. He jerked out of her.
“Ivy?” Worry instantly gnawed at him at her silence.
She pressed her face into his chest but he'd caught the grimace of pain. He should have never fucking listened to her rip off the Band-Aid advice. His heart refused to steady.
“Talk to me, lass.” He softened his tone when he added, “And breathe for fuck sake.”
He felt her exhalation against his chest and something inside his loosened. “Again,” he ordered and she did. By the third breath her thighs stopped trembling and his heart climbed back down his throat.
“I'll be fine,” she said in a pained rush. “It's like I stubbed my toe on a really sharp corner and split some skin...just with, you know...”
His throat felt too tight to laugh. “Your dirty talk needs work. Let me see your face.”
Took a little more coaxing but she did. The grimace had downgraded to a wince. He placed his forehead to hers.
“Look at me, lass, please.” At the words she seemed to relax. He cupped her chin. “We can stop if you need it.”
Dear God don't need it.
Her laugh sounded rusty. “You know I can see your face, right? Your answer is all over it.” She urged his hips down. “But, yes, I still want you, Marcus.”
Without another word he gripped the base of cock again and again entered her. This time slowly and with care. The first time Ivy's gasp of pain had overshadowed any pleasure, but this stroke was going to un-fucking-make him. Her pussy perfectly curved to his dick. Ah. There was the roar in his head and blood.
She made a soft protest when he stilled. “It doesn't hurt, Marcus. Not like before.”
He reached between them and worked her clit. Much more swollen than before so it took him a second to find the exact rhythm that would make her come. He waited for her thighs to squeeze him tight before deepening his strokes.
And it was better than perfection as she was in the throes of an orgasm. He thrust inside her slow and deep, letti
ng his thumb do the fast, dirty work of making her come and come hard.
He hadn't known she'd be this tight and wet. How could he have imagined her throaty moans? Much less how they would pound at his resolve. She made him soft without trying. He'd pay her back for that, but until then, he threw his head back. His balls were so tight.
“Feels so good.” He groaned. His cock pulsed from wave after wave of pleasure.
The last of her climax released a rush of liquid heat. Her pussy quickened around his cock. He clenched his jaw, trying to hold out.
“More, Marcus.”
He thrust into her in a fast, heady pace and she kept begging for more in a low moan. His lungs burned from holding his breath, swallowing down the shout wanting to tear from his throat.
Marcus could have held onto the tenacious thread keeping him from coming, but she began to rock her hips with his every down stroke.
“Yes.” Her breath feathered along his lobe and he shuddered. She whispered, “I'm going to come again.”
His hips jerked once, twice, pushed so deep he was sure it would have hurt if she wasn't coming too. The shout climbed out as his come spilled into the condom.
“Marcus,” she purred his name and it sounded like pure satisfaction. He was too lost in the aftershocks to care that again she had him mindless and knew it.
5
Much to Ivy's surprise when Marcus rolled onto his back, he brought her with him. She was de-virginized, slicked with sweat, and there was a low buzzing ache between her legs. Still, Marcus wrapped an arm around her waist as he buried his face in her hair—that she didn't know how to process. She'd expected him to kick her out of his house with the deed done.
After five minutes of silence, she chanced at glance at him, shoving her hair back to get a good look. He'd thrown an arm over his eyes and his breathing had slowed to normal.
“I can feel you bristling with questions.” He dropped his arm and met her gaze. “Do you need anything?”
She blinked. Who was this nice guy, looking at her with a soft, worried expression? “No.” She frowned. “Do you want me to leave?”
