“I haven’t done anything.”
I smile, words sticking to my throat.
What I want to tell her is that she’s saved me from myself. She’s saved me from the same demon that claimed her sister. She’s made me realize that I’m incredibly fortunate—not only to be able to walk again, but to be able to give my time and money to people who need it. Whether it’s the kids at the hospital, or the people who will come to Damon’s tour, or Ivy’s new bakery.
She’s incredible, because she’s been selfless and brave and supportive to her sister.
Now, it’s time for me to do the same for her.
29
Ivy
The feeling of Luca’s hands on my body is making my skin tingle. He runs his fingers up under my shirt, sending a trail of sparks flying off my skin. A million tiny lightning bolts follow the movement of his hands, and my heart takes off at full speed.
Even as we kiss, I know I’m going to give myself to him.
Here, on the floor of my new bakery, on a bed of pillows with the Prince of Argyle, I’m going to lose my virginity.
It’s perfect, and it feels like everything I’ve been waiting for.
Luca lets out a low growl, pulling my chest against his. I wrap my arms around his neck and crush my lips against his, feeling the fire ignite in my veins as I think of what I’m about to do. Pulling Luca’s shirt off over his head, I trail my fingers over the ridges and valleys of his muscles. I trace the outline of his pecs, running my fingertips over his collarbone.
The Prince leans against the wall and lets out a soft growl. His fingertips sink into my waist. I start to slowly grind my hips against him.
Sucking my lip between my teeth, I force myself to meet his gaze. The Prince’s eyes are hooded, promising sin and sweetness.
“Poison Ivy,” he breathes. “What are you doing to me?”
“Whatever you want me to,” I whisper. My cheeks flush as soon as the words slip out of my mouth. When did I get so dirty?
The Prince doesn’t mind, though. Quite the opposite. He lets out a moan, picking me up and flipping me onto my back. My head lands on a pillow and I giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck.
With Luca’s legs nestled between mine, he starts to grind against me. Even the movement of his hips is making my body temperature increase. My heart starts to bounce against my ribcage, doing its best to hammer its way out. Every time Luca touches me, I feel like I’m melting in his hands.
Leaving a trail of kisses down my jaw, the Prince brushes his lips over my collarbone. I shiver, arching my back toward him. His hands work to unbutton my pants as his eyes look up to mine.
Luca arches an eyebrow, and he doesn’t have to speak for me to know what he’s asking.
Sucking my bottom lip between my teeth, I nod my head.
“You want to?” he breathes.
I nod. “Yes.”
When he slides his hand into my underwear, we both moan. I buck my hips up to meet his hand, unable to contain my excitement.
Is this how it always is, I wonder? The electricity in the air, the feeling like a spark would set this whole place off?
What’s it like for normal people when they make love?
Do they feel this burning ball of heat in the pit of their stomach?
The need inside me is something I’ve never experienced before. I need to kiss him. Bite him. Touch him. I need to feel his fingers inside me. I need to have his cock in my hand.
All my embarrassment evaporates with the Prince. I’m no longer the inexperienced, virgin girl with the hot sister. With Luca, I’m everything. He makes me feel sexy and sensual. He makes me feel completely comfortable to spread my legs for him, like all my dirtiest secrets are exactly what he wants to hear.
I close my eyes, reaching down between his legs to rub his length over his pants. When he slides his fingers inside me, I think of what we did in the pool cabana, what we did on the yacht, what we did in every dark corner of Farcliff Castle when no one was looking…what I’ve been dreaming of doing with him since the first day I met him.
I never thought I would say this, but I want to suck his cock, even though I used to think it was gross. I want him to eat me out, even though I always thought it would be uncomfortable. I want to feel his hands everywhere, anywhere.
I want his cock inside me.
I want it all.
When he tugs my pants down my thighs, I kick them off and push them out of the way. The Prince kneels in front of me, and I feast my eyes on his rugged, ripped body. When his hands slide over the inside of my thighs, tingles of pleasure chase his touch. He spreads my knees wide, staring between my legs with a look of absolute pleasure on his face.
I blush, but not because I’m embarrassed. I blush because I never want him to stop looking at me like that.
When his tongue slides through my slit, I let out a gasp. I rough my hands through the Prince’s hair and grind myself against his face.
I’ve never done that, either, and for a second I’m worried I’m being too rough—but the Prince hooks his arms around my thighs and pulls me into him, groaning as I grind into him.
I’m breathless. I squeeze my eyes shut, hanging onto him as he devours me. When he slips his fingers inside me, I explode. I clamp my thighs around his ears and ride his face as the Prince brings me to orgasm. He moans with me, and when it’s over, the look in his eyes tells me he enjoyed that almost as much as I did.
As my chest heaves, my eyes drop down to the bulge in his pants. The Prince looks at me, and then hooks his thumbs into his waistband and pulls his pants off.
When his cock springs free, my breath catches.
“You sure you want this?” the Prince asks, leaning over to kiss me. The tip of his cock brushes against me, and a shiver of desire rips through me.
“Yes,” I answer between kisses.
I’m sure. I’ve never been surer of anything.
Prince Luca reaches into his pants and pulls out a condom. I watch, fascinated, as he rolls it onto his length. When he positions himself at my opening, I feel oddly calm.
I thought I’d be nervous right now. Maybe freaking out or afraid of the pain.
All I feel is complete peace.
This is right. This is exactly how it’s supposed to happen.
Slowly, gently, the Prince pushes himself inside me. My eyes start to water and I lean into the pillows, squeezing them shut.
“Am I hurting you?”
“A little,” I rasp, breathless. “But it’s okay.”
The Prince’s hands caress my body, and he lays soft kisses over my neck as he slides himself inside me. It hurts more than I expected, but I don’t want him to stop. I let my knees fall open and sink my fingers into his shoulders. With my nails digging into him, the Prince pushes himself inside me with a groan.
“You okay?” He kisses my earlobe.
I nod. I don’t trust my voice. My muscles relax, and my heartbeat slows a touch, and the Prince starts to move his hips.
He grunts, his breath washing over my skin like a hot breeze. I hang onto him, and with every passing second, the pain lessens, until it’s gone. In its place is a deep, pulsing heat. I arch my back, mimicking his movements as the pleasure starts to flood my veins.
I moan when he thrusts inside me again, the friction of his body against mine sending pulsing light through my veins.
“I’m going to come, baby,” Luca says in my ear. “I’m sorry, I can’t last. You feel too good.”
“Come, Your Highness.” I arch my back, spreading my legs to accept his length. He rocks himself inside me again and again.
I gasp when I feel him come. I didn’t think I’d be able to feel it—but I do. His body contracts, and the noises he makes send a shiver of pleasure down to my toes.
When it’s over, I’m a little glad it didn’t last any longer than it did. I can already tell I’m going to be sore. But the Prince pulls out of me and wraps his arms around me, cradling me into his chest.
“
That felt incredible, Ivy,” he breathes.
I nod, and a smile drifts over my lips. It did feel incredible—but not because I had a mind-blowing orgasm. I didn’t come with him inside me, but it doesn’t matter. It feels like we’ve forged a connection that can’t be broken.
We signed that oath on the floor of the bakery that will shape my future.
I’m his, and he’s mine.
Forever.
30
Luca
“Shit. The condom broke.” I pull the latex off my cock and reach for a napkin from the picnic basket. Glancing at Ivy, I arch an eyebrow. “You were too tight.”
Ivy blushes, glancing down between her legs.
“No blood, either,” I note, frowning.
“I broke my hymen riding a bike when I was fourteen,” Ivy says, grinning. “Sorry to disappoint you. I promise you were my first.”
“Nothing you do could ever disappoint me.”
Excitement curls in the pit of my stomach at the thought of being her first. I’ve never taken anyone’s virginity before. Glancing down at Ivy’s body, I let my hands wander up to her stomach.
No one else has touched her like this. No one else has been inside her, or felt her the way I have. It feels special, like we share something that no one can take away from us.
Laying back on the pillows, I stare up at the ceiling of Ivy’s new bakery. I glance over at her, pulling her in to lay on my chest.
“Did you come?” I ask, burying my face in her hair.
“Once,” she says. “When you…did that thing with your mouth.”
I chuckle. “When I ate your pussy?”
“Yeah. That.”
“Not after?”
Ivy shakes her head. “No, but it’s okay. I’m sure it’ll happen. I’m just glad to get the first one out of the way.”
I smile. “What was it like?”
Even without looking at her, I can tell she’s chewing her lip. Ivy takes a deep breath, and then shrugs. “Felt like a big ball of fire was sitting in the pit of my stomach, and all I wanted you to do was be inside me.”
“Similar to how I felt, then,” I sigh, pulling her close.
The next few weeks are pure bliss. When I’m not doing talks with Damon and Dahlia, I’m at Spoonful of Sugar. Ivy stocks the shelves with all the supplies she needs and starts baking as soon as she sets foot inside the kitchen.
“I need to get to know these ovens,” she tells me when I ask why she’s baking so much so far ahead of the Grand Opening in a month’s time.
There’s so much to do that I never would have expected. Packaging, labels, business registration, setting up the accounting systems, planning the menu—Ivy attacks it with enthusiasm I’ve rarely seen before.
George, the pastry chef from the castle, comes to visit one day in the week before the Grand Opening. I had no idea Ivy had made such an impression on him, but he immediately rolls up his sleeves and helps her tweak one of her recipes.
Ivy’s cheeks are rosy, her hair is full of flour, her eyes are bright, and she’s the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.
I usually spend nights at Ivy’s house, when I’m not traveling for the tour. No one misses me at the castle. Beckett leaves to rejoin Theo, Cara, and Dante in Argyle, and I’m free to do as I please.
Namely, spend every waking hour with a black-haired beauty.
The morning of August 1st, the Grand Opening, Ivy rolls over in bed and plants a kiss on my cheek. It’s just over a month since Margot was admitted into rehab, and the past four weeks have been incredible. It’s been peaceful, and joyous—and happy.
Perhaps most surprisingly, I haven’t taken a single painkiller. I’ve been in pain, of course. Sometimes it’s almost unbearable—but I haven’t wanted to numb anything. I know that if I take the drugs, it’ll dull everything that’s going on. The good and the bad.
Ivy tells me my kiss tastes better now that I’m smoking less weed, too. My kiss—and something else she’s been enjoying tasting.
She snuggles into me, smiling. “Today is the day.”
“What time is it?” I groan, opening my eyes just a slit.
“Four-thirty.”
“In the morning?”
Ivy laughs. “Get used to it, buddy. Still happy you set up this bakery for me?”
Wrapping my arms around her, I pull Ivy into my chest. “Always, Poison.”
We make love that morning, and I make sure to make her come. The look on Ivy’s face when she orgasms with me inside her is something I cherish. I can’t stop staring at Ivy’s smile, her eyes, the light shining from her. When it’s over, she lays back in bed and lets out a sigh. Reaching for her phone, Ivy grins at me.
“Spoonful of Sugar has over five thousand followers on Instagram already! We haven’t even sold a single pastry yet. There’s such a big buzz for the opening. I think all those free samples we gave out have worked.” She glances at me, grinning. “And maybe all those rumors flying around that you’ve been in the bakery have helped, too.”
“It’s all you,” I respond, kissing the tip of her nose.
Ivy leaves before I do, and I take my time getting ready. I don’t want to steal her thunder by bringing paparazzi to the bakery, but I want to be supportive of her. Using the back streets, I make my way to the bakery. I pull a hat onto my head and slip some sunglasses on, rounding the corner right as Ivy opens the doors.
A smile drifts over my lips when I see the lineup of people waiting outside.
Ivy is beaming. She’s wearing a red ribbon in her hair, and a t-shirt with her new bakery’s logo on the front. Sweeping her arm toward the door, she welcomes the waiting customers in. Taking a few steps forward, I shake my head.
When we set up the interior of the bakery, Ivy insisted on having one corner of the room dedicated to social media. I thought it was silly, but she shook her head, and told me that she’d learned a thing or two in her time being Margot’s assistant.
She had a swing installed in one corner, with a backdrop wall full of flowers. Lighting was installed especially with selfies in mind. People can sit on the swing with a cupcake in their hand, getting the perfect picture to post online.
I thought it was stupid—but I was wrong.
As I get closer to the building, I can already see influencers with multi-colored cupcakes posing next to the wall. Ivy has moved behind the counter, and is serving clients with an ear-to-ear smile.
I slip inside the doorway, keeping my sunglasses on. Ivy’s eyes lift up to mine, and her smile somehow widens. There’s a hum of energy inside the bakery that warms my heart. She’s already sold out of her special apple cinnamon buns, and a lot of the muffins and pastries are flying off the shelves.
George appears from the kitchen with another tray of baked goods, beaming at Ivy. Bread is stacked behind her, and the twins Georgina and Giselle are making coffee after coffee after coffee.
My heart feels light.
For the first time in years, I helped achieve something that wasn’t for myself. Even the small part that I played in making this bakery come to life makes me feel like I’ve done something good, for once.
I slip out of the bakery again, and let my feet carry me down the main street. I glance at shops, restaurants, cafes, and I revel in being normal. No one is mobbing me, I don’t have bodyguards, there aren’t any paparazzi following me around.
I’m happier than I’ve been in years, and it’s all because of Ivy.
31
Ivy
At the end of the opening day of Spoonful of Sugar, my feet hurt, my whole body aches, and I can’t keep the smile off my face. When the last customer leaves, I sink down into a chair and let out a sigh.
Giselle grins at me from the other side of the counter. She’s leaning against it, her bright orange hair tied in two pigtails, with different silver rings on every finger.
“Not bad, Ivy. Sold out of almost everything except the fig and almond tarts.”
“A few loaves of bread left,
too,” Georgina says, nodding at the baskets displayed behind her.
I shake my head. “If every day goes by like that, I don’t know how I’m going to keep up.”
“Well, you can always take us on full-time,” Giselle grins. “I wouldn’t mind working here a few days a week. Those influencers were hot.” She grins, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Keep it in your pants,” her twin replies, nudging her with her shoulder. “But seriously, we could ask the boys if they want to help out.” ‘The boys being their five brothers.
I glance at Georgina, arching my eyebrows. “Yeah?”
The twins exchange a glance. “The diner’s not doing too well. I’m sure they’d appreciate the work.”
My eyes widen. “Are you guys okay? Do you need money?”
Giselle laughs, hooking her arm around my shoulders. “Don’t worry, Ivy. We’re fine. Just be glad there’s seven of us to help you out. Marcus and Mickey have experience in a bakery, and I’m sure Irving would love to expand his milkshake brand to sell it here. You know we all love to work ourselves to the bone.”
“Ask them to come in tomorrow,” I say, excited. “I thought I’d have leftover pastries for tomorrow, but I’m going to have to prep a whole new batch.”
“That’s a good problem to have,” Georgie grins. “You deserve it.”
“Do I?” I ask, glancing around the bakery. My dream business landed in my lap. In the past month, my whole life has transformed.
A part of me feels guilty for doing this without Margot. She’s tucked away in the forest, healing herself, and I’m here profiting off her absence.
She’d be happy for me, though. I know she would.
“Holy shit,” Giselle says, staring at her phone. “You’re trending, Ivy.”
Turning her phone toward me, she shakes it from side to side.
“I am?”
I pull out the phone that Luca bought me, scrolling through my social media. I haven’t had time to look at it all day, and my eyes nearly bug out of my head.
Knocked Up by the Broken Prince: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance Page 17
