“Then what is your kink?”
“Ivy,” I warned. “Let’s get you into bed.”
“What’s wrong? Uncomfortable?” Fuck me running. The woman was calling me out. This was a conversation we should not be having.
The sexy smirk. The damn near see-through tank top. The sass. All of her silky hair piled on top of her head.
I couldn’t take it.
I snapped.
I stepped toward her; she stepped back. We did this several times until her back hit the wall and she had no place to go. With my naked front pressed up against her barely covered one, my hands went to the drywall above her head, and I lowered my mouth to her ear.
“Baby. I tried to warn you. You wanted to push and throw your sexy attitude. You want to know what my kink is?” She shook her head and it fell to the side, giving me access to her neck and collarbone. I bit back a groan and forced myself not to suck and bite the creamy flesh. “This right here is my kink. You breathless. Eager. Anticipating my touch.” I removed my right hand from the wall and grazed my thumb over her puckered nipple. She moaned and arched into my touch. “You hot, wet, and ready to catch fire. I want you trembling with need.” I stopped my gentle trace of her nipple and rolled it between my thumb and forefinger. “I don’t need to tie you to my bed, or cuff you, or even bend you over my knee and pinken that lovely ass to control you.” I gave her nipple a pinch. “The ache in your pussy will be enough. You’ll surrender because your body won’t allow anything else.”
Her tits rose and fell with her rapid breathing and once again, I yearned to be a man worthy of this woman’s affection and loyalty.
But I wasn’t.
I released her nipple and stepped away from Ivy.
“Why are you stopping?” she whispered.
“For a variety of reasons. The most important one is your perception of people, men specifically. I won’t be the asshat that proves you right.”
“What does that even mean?” She looked at me with pleading eyes, and I was finding I was almost powerless against this woman. It was…disconcerting.
“Let me get some clothes on and I’ll take you to bed.” A smile formed on her pretty face. “To sleep.”
“Why won’t you explain?”
“Because it doesn’t matter. Ivy, I’m not the man for you. I’m not the man for anyone. If you think you have issues from your childhood, they don’t hold a candle to how fucked up my head is.”
“What does that mean?” she asked.
Fuck. My. Life. That seemed to be the new revolving theme of my life.
“Drop it, Ivy. Let’s get you to bed.” It wasn’t lost on me I was standing in front of her having a conversation I wanted no part of with my dick swinging in the wind. Still rock hard, I might add.
“I don’t want to drop it, Zane,” she mocked. “Tell me what you meant about proving me right. Then move on to why you think your head is fucked up.”
Why the hell wouldn’t she let it drop? No good could come from us talking. This was the exact reason I had a no breakfast rule. Women couldn’t stop themselves from wanting to talk, ask questions, dig into a man’s personal life, and try to fix him. I had news for her; I was not fixable.
We stood staring at each other, both of us stubborn and unmoving. Her gaze drifted south and with her eyes glued to my cock she asked, “Do you not want to fuck me?”
“Oh, I want to fuck you alright. Fuck the hell out of you, actually. Until you’re too exhausted to ask any more annoying questions.”
“What are you waiting for?”
“I’m not touching you,” I told her.
“Why?” she pushed.
“Because I have no doubt if I fuck you, you’ll twist it around in your head and by the next morning you’ll use it to condemn me. You’ll think the only reason I’m offering you my help is so I can fuck you. So, no, Ivy, I won’t be that guy, the one who proves that any offer of kindness comes with a cost. My protection is free and my cock is not for sale. I don’t barter with sex.”
“And the fucked up in the head part?”
“Christ, woman. Leave it!”
“No, Zane. Tell me.”
“Goddamn, you’re pushy.”
“So I’ve been told.” She threw my words back at me. “Tell me!”
She’d finally pushed me to my limit, and I let my temper get the best of me.
“Do you have any idea what I do for a living?” She shook her head and I continued. “I’m a paid assassin. Any idea what that means?” She shook her head again. “I get paid ungodly amounts of money to kill people. You wanna know how I afford the fancy office, the cars, motorcycles, penthouse? All with the money I earn killing. Everything you see was bought and paid for with blood money. The blood of the enemy and the blood of good men who have died while by my side in battle. All of this, Ivy, is dirty. My soul has more hash marks on it than I care to explain. I’ve tortured men for information. I’ve beaten, stabbed, and shot more enemy combatants than I can remember. There is no atonement for a man like me. There’s no redemption or penitence I can pay to salvage my humanity.” I waited for her to open her eyes before I continued. “Do you really want a man like me to touch you? I don’t deserve an ounce of what you have to offer.”
The next thing I knew, Ivy had launched herself at me, forcing me to catch her as her legs wrapped around my waist. I stumbled back from the impact and the back of my legs touched the bed. Her lips were on mine in a brutal kiss and any protest died in my throat. Her tongue swept my lips and pushed in my mouth. Without any thought of the repercussions, I took over. My hands on her ass, I squeezed and kneaded the firm muscle under my palms. The material of her tank top was being pulled up and she broke the kiss long enough to tug it over her head and toss it aside.
Before I could resume the kiss, she whispered against my mouth, “Fuck me.”
In a moment of extreme arousal and shock, I stood motionless. Ivy rocked forward, her weight causing me to fall back onto the bed, her hands pawed at my chest, her nails scraping my skin like ten tiny sharp knives. The pain pulled me from my fog. I had to stop this. She wasn’t thinking straight.
“Stop, Ivy. This isn’t what you want,” I told her.
“Don’t tell me what I want. I know what I want, and you want it, too. You’re just too fucking stubborn to take it. I’m offering myself to you. Don’t let some stupid assumption deny us both what we need.”
She needed me like she needed a hole in the head. In the end, I would only hurt her.
“I’m not the forever type of man,” I warned.
“That’s great. I don’t believe in forever. I want right now. I want you to fuck me until I forget every jacked up thing in my life. I want to feel this – just you and me. Nothing else.”
Her hand snaked between us and she slowly stroked my cock. My head fell back against the bed as her small, soft hand worked its magic.
“Fuck, baby.” I was going to give in. I was too damn pathetic when it came to her. I very easily could’ve set her off me and put a stop to the madness, only with her hand on my cock I couldn’t think of a single reason this was a bad idea.
“Please fuck me,” she begged.
She hovered over me, my cock in her hand, her pussy mere inches above it, and all rational thought flew out the window.
“Ride me,” I demanded.
Ivy pushed the loose-fitting shorts to the side and guided me to her opening. The first touch was glorious. The head of my cock met the silky wetness of her pussy and it sent waves of excitement through my body. She sank down and liquid heat wrapped around my cock.
“Zane,” she moaned.
I opened my eyes and the sight before me was almost too much. Her pretty face was flush, her big, full tits on display, nipples hard, soft belly, and finally I locked on to where my cock was disappearing into her body. Albeit is was partially obscured, however, I’d never, not once, in all the times I’d had sex, reveled in the connection. But with Ivy, I took great pleasure wat
ching her glide up and down, leaving a trail of her excitement on my bare cock.
Fuck.
“Condom, baby.”
Never a good afterthought to have. No woman had ever made me lose my head and forget a condom. Not even when I was a teenager.
“Birth control,” she moaned on a downslide.
She swiveled her hips before she pulled back up to the tip.
Fuck.
Now was not the time to talk about medical history. I knew I was clean, and despite how I’d met Ivy, I didn’t think she made a habit of going home with men.
“Lean down,” I demanded. “I want your tits on my face while you ride me.”
She leaned forward, and my mouth latched on to her right nipple while my hands moved to her ass. It didn’t take her long to get me to the point of exploding.
“Fuck me, baby.” She obliged and rode me harder. “You feel so fucking good I’m gonna come.” I moved to her left nipple and tightened my ass, thrusting up every time she sank down. Holy fuck, I was going to blow any second. She felt too good. Her tits in my face, my hands on her ass, and her tight pussy squeezing my cock like a fist was too much. Not to mention without the barrier between us I could feel everything.
She slid down and I held her still, balls deep inside of her. I rocked her hips, grinding her clit on my pelvis.
“Zane,” she panted.
“That’s it. Come with me.” I pushed up and her internal muscles tightened. “Fuck, Ivy. Hurry, baby. You feel so fucking good I can’t stop it.” I pulled back and thrust up. “Come with me. Now!”
I let go. My balls tightened painfully before come shot out of my cock so hard and so fast my vision blurred. I felt Ivy contract around me before she moaned her release.
“Holy… fuck… Zane.”
Ivy collapsed forward, giving me her weight. Her tits were sandwiched between us, her head rested on my shoulder, and her face was in the crook of my neck. We laid there in silence, both of us trying to recover and catch our breath.
That’s when I felt it.
Something so small it was huge.
Feather light kisses on my neck.
I didn’t dare move. I didn’t know if I wanted to push her off or hold her close. These kisses weren’t in the height of passion or in the throes of ecstasy. They were sweet and soft, loving and gentle. The longer I stayed still, the more I realized I was in big fucking trouble. Not only did I not want her to stop, I wanted more.
I was playing a dangerous game. I had no right to take whatever this was from her. However, like everything else with Ivy, I was too weak to stop it.
I took and took from her. Her soothing touch. Her gentle kisses. Most of all, I took the peace I felt with her in my arms and I locked it down deep inside.
I was fucked.
14
Ivy
Sometime in the middle of the night I had tangled myself around Zane. After I had attacked him last night, then laid on top of him not wanting to lose the safety of his arms, I further embarrassed myself and basically made out with his neck.
What type of crazy person does that?
I was afraid to open my eyes. I knew he was awake. He’d softly brushed the hair off my cheek, and his fingertips were brushing my lower back. God, it felt so good when he touched me. I really, really, did not want to have to face him. I’d jumped him and used him. I’d even told him that was why I wanted to have sex with him. It was a half-truth, so I didn’t feel bad about lying. I did want him to make me forget, but more than that, I wanted him.
I shouldn’t. He was dangerous; he’d shatter my world without meaning to.
“I know you’re awake,” he said.
“UGH,” I groaned.
“Open your pretty eyes, baby.”
Why did he say shit like that to me? Those were falling in love words, not booty call, fantastic sex words. I could handle when he talked dirty to me in bed. It was all kinds of hot. But the sweet talk and the babies, those words were starting to melt my ice-cold heart.
It was too much.
When I cracked my eyes open, he was close, so close I could feel his breath fan across my face and all that came into focus were his sexy, deep-blue eyes. No man should be this hot. It should be illegal. Between his jet-black hair, blue eyes, dimples, hard body, very nice…package, he was the perfect specimen of male beauty. I was powerless against him.
“Good morning,” I croaked.
“Sleep well?” He chuckled.
Jerk. He knew I had. After I’d fucked him in the guest room, he carried me back to his room, stripped me of my sleep shorts, and tucked us into bed. To say I was shocked when he pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me was an understatement.
Shit! I was naked. I fumbled with the sheet, trying to cover my exposed breasts. That earned me another chuckle before he stopped my attempt at modesty. He didn’t comment, he simply started to trace around my nipple with his fingertip. I wanted him to stop, yet I arched into his touch. Stop. Go. I couldn’t make up my mind. I couldn’t think with his hands on me.
“I need to apologize,” I started, knowing his extreme aversion of talking would more than likely make him stop and want to jump out of bed to get away from me.
“For what?” he asked and continued to trail his finger over the sensitive tissue, making my nipple pucker.
“For… you know, attacking you. Taking you against your will.”
His hand fell away, his head hit the pillow behind him, and he roared with laughter. Damn, even his laugh was sexy. Deep and gravelly. It sent chills racing over my body. This was not good!
“Against my will,” he spoke through his hilarity. “That’s cute. Baby, you’re about as big as a sack of potatoes. You couldn’t take anything from me I didn’t want to give.”
Well, that pissed me off.
“Whatever,” I mumbled and in a fatal flaw I put my hand on his hard chest in an effort to push him away from me.
His hand moved to capture mine and he held them both against his bare skin. He was hot and hard and memories of using his chest to balance myself while I rode him last night came rushing back. My pussy clenched and my breasts swelled.
What the hell was wrong with me?
When his lips touched mine, I was lost. I hadn’t noticed when he’d rolled me to my back and spread my legs. He broke the kiss and pecked the side of my mouth before his tongue trailed down the side of my neck. I moved my head to the side to give him better access and he latched on, sucking and pulling my skin into his mouth; I knew I’d have another bruise. Somewhere inside of me, deep in a secret place I didn’t want to acknowledge, I loved that I’d wear his mark. It was possessive and animalistic and everything a modern independent woman should hate.
He pulled back and looked at my neck, a satisfied smile played at his lips before he looked at me. Without breaking eye contact, his hips pulled back and I felt the head of his dick bump my wetness. Zane’s features softened and with exceeding gentleness he slid fully inside me. He waited a few moments before he started to move. He set a slow, leisurely pace, like he had all the time in the world. It wasn’t a race to completion, or a lust-fueled frenzy; it was a slow burn. He was building and stoking, each measured thrust added more kindling to the fire. Through it all he held my gaze. It was the single most intimate moment of my life. I couldn’t hide from him, not physically, not emotionally. And he couldn’t hide from me. Zane was giving me a gift, one I was afraid was the kiss of death. He allowed me to see him, not the man he described last night, but the man he truly was but would deny. The inferno built, and I was afraid for it to end. Afraid this was Zane’s way of saying goodbye. I knew as soon as it was over he’d pull away. It shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. Now that I’d seen the pain, regret, and sorrow he carried, I didn’t want it taken away.
But like everything with Zane, I couldn’t stop it. The fire had been built, and stoked, and the end was now. My hips bucked, and my head thrashed, causing me to lose sight of his face.
I tried to focus, I really did, but as a tidal wave of pleasure washed over me, I could barely contain my pleas for more.
“Zane!” I whined. “Please, baby. Please, don’t stop.”
His body tightened, and his dick seemed to swell because his movements became jerky and he lost the slow rhythm.
“What did you say?” he growled. Gone was the gentle Zane and in his place was a feral beast.
His hips slammed into mine and another orgasm was building much too quick.
“Don’t stop,” I repeated.
He hitched my leg up high, giving him a new, deeper angle.
“Not that.” I didn’t understand what he was asking. “You called me baby.” His face twisted and sweat beaded on his forehead. “Say it again!” he demanded.
Zane continued with fast, short strokes but he added his unmoving thumb on my clit. He waited his thumb simply resting on the sensitive area. I needed more. I rocked my hips trying to gain the much-needed friction, but he stopped me.
“Say it again and I’ll give you what you want.”
“Please baby,” I moaned. “I need more. I’m so close.”
His head fell forward and he closed his eyes, his face once again relaxed, and he started adding pressure to my clit. Slow circles became faster ones before he changed to a hard, back-and-forth rub.
“Shit.” That was the spot. “Don’t. I’m. Please. Baby!” I yelled and let go.
Pleasure mingled with pain as my orgasm seemed to last forever.
“Ivy.” Zane’s voice pulled me from the euphoria. “Watch me come for you.”
When he threw his head back and moaned my name, I was grateful he’d demanded I watch. It was a thing of beauty. His muscles bunched. I could see his heart rate pounding in his neck, his dick throbbed inside of me, but the most magnificent part was, Zane Lewis was completely serene.
I wondered if the tranquility I saw was the result of his orgasm or if I’d had the same calming effect he had on me. I hoped that was the case.
Recovering Ivy Page 10
