by Leddy Harper
“I couldn’t tell you, Cade. I had only ever told a few people when I was younger and in foster care. The way they looked at me after I told them, like I was only half a person, made me feel even worse about myself. I couldn’t let you look at me like that. I wouldn’t be able to handle that. There is something about you that makes me feel okay, and I knew that would go away if I told you.”
“Am I looking at you that way now? Am I looking at you like you’re half a person?”
A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye, but she didn’t bother to wipe it away. “No.”
“Can I look at you now?”
Her brows pinched in the middle as she tried to figure out what I was asking.
“I want to see you, Ivy… all of you. Can I do that?” I whispered, letting my breath carry my words.
Fear consumed her features once she realized what I was asking. Her head started shaking vigorously back and forth and her eyes grew twice the normal size. “No. You can’t look at me. It’s hideous. Please don’t look at me,” she begged, on the verge of crying again.
“Ivy,” I whispered against her cheek just before I softly pressed my lips on her wet skin. “You’ve come this far. You’ve already opened up to me about this, just open up one more time. Break through this barrier with me. Let me help make you feel better. Please,” I begged against her cheek, needing her to know this was about making her feel better and not some morbid curiosity.
“I can’t, Cade. I know what you’re doing. I know you only want to see it because you’re curious and I can’t bear that. I don’t want you to look at me out of curiosity. Please don’t do that.” The way her voice broke as she begged me not to look at her tore through me and left me raw.
I kissed her neck before pulling back to look in her eyes. “I only want to worship you, Ivy. That’s it. I will admit, there is a level of curiosity, a deep need to know you’re okay. But that’s not what is driving me to see you. I want to touch you, taste you. All of you. I just need to. You came to me for a reason—because you want to fix this part of you. You’ve come this far, let me take you all the way.” I felt like an ass for using her need to be healed as a way to be with her in a way I’ve never been before, but I couldn’t think of anything else. I couldn’t tell her it was selfish, and that I needed it to heal myself as much as I needed to heal her.
“I don’t know…” she whispered, and I could tell she was on the verge of giving in.
“I need you, Ivy. I need you more than I’ve ever needed anything or anyone. More than air to breathe,” I confessed as my lips traveled down her neck, stopping just shy of her breasts. “Tell me to stop and I will, I swear it. Just let me try to comfort you, please.”
She didn’t say yes, but she also didn’t say no. Her breathing picked up as soon as I continued my trail down the front of her body, laying gentle touches of my lips over her shirt. Once I made it to her stomach, I felt her suck it in and hold it. I wished she could see herself the way I saw her—perfect.
I slowly pushed her shirt up to the bottom of her bra, revealing her bare stomach. My lips danced along her ribcage as I tried to soothe her with my mouth, touching her lightly with my fingertips just to see the gooseflesh rise on her skin. My tongue made a hot trail to her bellybutton and then circled it, nearly feeling her spine with the way she was sucking her stomach in. I groaned against her skin, needing more.
I pushed the blanket down and out of the way as I made my way to her hips and slowly slid her stretchy pants down. I realized then how much I loved her pants; I didn’t have to worry about buckles or buttons or zippers, they just gave way as if all on their own. And in one move, she was bared to me… all of her, and that’s when my own breath hitched, holding still in my chest.
“My God,” I whispered against the tender flesh of her pubic bone as I lay between her parted thighs.
Ivy tried to close her legs and push my head away. “I told you…”
The realization that she misunderstood my awe gutted me. “No, Ivy. You’re fucking perfect. There is nothing about you that you should be ashamed of or try to hide. Nothing. You don’t need to hide from me.”
“I know you see it.” The terror in her soft-spoken words sliced through my heart like a razorblade.
She was wrong; I hadn’t seen anything. Once I found myself looking at the part of her that nearly no one else had ever seen, I no longer cared what was there. I no longer had the curiosity to see her imperfections because to me, there weren’t any—she was imperfectly perfect. All I wanted to do was look at her beauty, her unbelievable magnificence that no one else had ever witnessed. And I felt like the luckiest guy in the world with my face between her legs and her hands in my hair.
“You want to know what I see?” I asked breathlessly, locking eyes with her. “I see the strongest person alive. I see someone that has no idea how much courage and strength she possesses. I see complete and utter beauty that can only be found in you.” I kissed her curly hair and took in a deep breath that was all Ivy and grunted. “The things you fucking do to me, Ivy Jaymes. I wish you knew. If you knew the way you make me feel, the way you’ve completely turned my world inside out, flipped it on its axis, and filled it with things that have been missing for hundreds of lifetimes, you might understand half of what I see.”
I felt her legs relax around me. They didn’t fall open, but they were released of the tight muscles that were trying to push me away. She was silently giving me her permission and I didn’t waste a moment. I took one more look at her as she closed her eyes and softly bit down on her bottom lip. That one single move had me wanting to freeze time and hold on to that moment forever. But I couldn’t do that; I had a pussy to taste.
I carefully slid my hands beneath her ass and tilted her pelvis so that I had the perfect angle. The moment her soft, musky scent hit me, I had to force myself to slow down. I needed her, but I also needed to make it last—for her and for me. So I slowly slid my relaxed tongue through her folds until I reached her tight clit, tasting every bit of her as I nibbled my way slowly up the path. Once I reached her clit and began to flick it with the tip of my tongue, her legs began to shake vigorously, tightening around the sides of my head. I lifted my eyes to make sure her reaction wasn’t out of fear and locked eyes with her. She was watching me, and that egged me on more than anything. Her mouth was parted and the look in her eyes was sexy as hell, it urged me on.
Without taking my eyes from hers, I ran my tongue from back to front again, tasting the salty wetness that hadn’t been there the first time. I closed my mouth around her hard clit and sucked, causing her to gasp and start to close her eyes again. I didn’t want her to do that; I wanted her to look at me the entire time so I quickly pressed a finger into her warm, wet channel and her eyes popped back open, staring at me. A sudden fear began to consume her features until I hooked my finger, bending it at the knuckle until I was scratching her inner wall like an itch. Her fingers tightened in my hair as she began to rock her pussy against my face and finger.
I released her clit and mumbled against it, “See what you do to me, Ivy? Do you see the power you have over me?” I slowed the movement of my finger to a taunting pace and bit down gently just above her pelvic bone. “Tell me what you want, Ivy. Tell me what to do. You have all the control here.”
I had never given control to anyone before, other than the attempt I tried to make with Alyssa, but whether I wanted to or not, Ivy had it all. She held the cards. The ball was in her court, and that’s when I realized it always had been. Since the very beginning, I would have given her everything.
I licked her clit slowly and said quietly, “Tell me, Ivy.”
“Faster,” was all she said, sounding as if she had been holding her breath.
“My tongue or my finger?”
“Both,” she moaned, tilting her head back and pressing herself into me more.
“Not until you look at me.”
Her head snapped back down as her eyes settled on mine.
I had her. I had all of her, just as she had all of me. And I didn’t waste another second. I added a second finger, feeling her stretch around them, and began to taunt her swollen g-spot. My mouth latched onto her clit once more, alternating between sucking and nibbling.
It didn’t take longer than about fifteen seconds before she was closing in around my fingers, her body going completely rigid, and a veil of red coloring flushing her skin. Her eyes fell closed and I allowed it, knowing she was close to falling over the edge, falling apart on my tongue.
As soon as I knew she was at her peak and taking the final step off, I removed my fingers and replaced it with the tip of my tongue, tasting every ounce of pleasure I had given her. I lapped up everything she gave me as her wetness increased. Her body began to convulse, her thighs clenched my head like a vice, and the only sound I could hear was her heavy panting. I waited until her legs relaxed and her fingers loosened in my hair before I licked her clean and made my way up her body, planting heady kisses along the way.
When I reached her face, I looked down into her sated eyes and asked, “Want to know what heaven tastes like?” I didn’t give her time to answer; Instead, I took her mouth with mine and parted her lips with my tongue, allowing her to taste herself. Had I given it any thought, I would have worried that she’d push away, but she didn’t.
Ivy Jaymes fucking owned me.
“I need to go home, Cade,” Ivy said once her pants were back in place.
I hated those words. I didn’t want her to leave—ever. That realization both frightened and excited me. It frightened me because I didn’t know how to react to it… I had never felt that way before and I wasn’t sure how to handle it. My initial instinct was to push her away, never let her get close enough to me to ruin me. But then the realization that quickly followed that initial instinct was she had already ruined me, so there was no point in pushing her away. That only left the option of embracing it. And that is what excited me. After only experiencing stationary relationships for most of my life, relationships derived of zero emotion and only comprised of fucking, I finally felt as if I was going somewhere. It was new and strange, but I didn’t care. For the first time in as long as I could remember, staying in the same place no longer sounded appealing. Ivy was moving forward and I wanted to move forward with her. I no longer felt comfortable being complacent.
“Don’t go,” I begged as I ran my nose along her cheek. I was still hovering over her, needing to feel her beneath me for as long as I could. I felt needy and fought the desire to hold onto her forever and never let go.
She finally pushed against my chest with her hands, creating space between us. But as I leaned back, she began to sit up and the small space that had been created in our changing positions quickly disappeared. Her hand remained on my chest as she looked into my eyes, the determination was evading.
“After all that, you can’t just leave. Just stay a little longer, please.”
Ivy released a slow breath and looked down to her hands where they were flat on my chest just above my pounding heart. I was sure she could feel it beating wildly behind my ribcage. “You need to eat and I need some sleep.”
“I just ate; I’m not hungry,” I teased and it earned me a shy smile.
She slapped my chest and then moved her hands to her lap. “I don’t know how I feel about any of this, Cade.” Her mouth opened as if she’d say more but then closed and her hands began to twist together.
I reached out and grabbed them, keeping her from losing herself in her insecurities. “Then let’s talk about it. Don’t leave like this. If you’re feeling something or unsure how you’re feeling about something, talk to me about it.” I tried to keep my voice strong and confident, but the words came out sounding as if I was pleading—which, in all actuality, I was.
Her eyes rolled once before settling on the ceiling. She took in a lungful of air and puffing out her cheeks as she released it slowly through her pursed lips. I could tell something was going on inside that head of hers, but I couldn’t figure it out. I only hoped it wasn’t regret.
“This is so confusing,” she began but then never finished. She looked downward and it was obvious she was struggling with the situation as much as I was. Even though I had come to the conclusion that I didn’t want her to leave and she wanted to leave.
I grabbed her by the chin and made her look at me. “What is?”
“This!” she exclaimed, waving her hand between our bodies. “Sometimes you act like you have feelings for me. Other times you act like my therapist. I don’t know who you are from one minute to the next or how I should act around you. And then there’s still the question about last week. You were into me and then in the blink of an eye, you were running out the door. It was like you couldn’t get dressed fast enough. Yet you call me—drunk out of your mind—and tell me that you need me. You can’t deny that all of these changes in your behavior are confusing.”
“You’re absolutely right. I’ve been giving you mixed signals.” I knew the issue with me leaving would come back up; she would want an answer and I knew I would have to give her one. I just didn’t know if I was ready to start divulging all of my secrets I had kept hidden for so long. I never shared them. Could I share them now with her? “But it’s not what you think. I feel something for you—beyond what I’m used to feeling for other people. And as for me acting like your therapist, I think that’s because I do care about you so I worry about what you’re going through. It comes from the part of me that deeply cares about you beyond the normal level of caring I have for my clients.” My heartbeat increased to a rapid pace as my chest tightened around it, knowing I was about to explain part of my life that very few people knew about.
“What about your disappearing act? If you care so much about me… what was that about?”
“Can you just answer one question for me before I answer that?”
Her forehead creased as her brows furrowed in confusion or concern—or both. She nodded, silently agreeing to answer my question. I knew I needed to know the answer, but I was terrified of it all at the same time.
“That night… did I hurt you? At all?”
She shook her head but answered anyway. “No. Not at all. Why?”
“I kind of blacked out… more like spaced out I guess you could say and I have been so scared that I was too rough or did something to hurt you.” My voice was small and sheepish; I had never heard myself sound like that before.
Ivy swallowed audibly before licking her lips and asking, “Has that happened before?”
With a shrug, I answered honestly. “Yeah… but it was for a different reason.”
“I still don’t know what the reason is. You say it wasn’t about me, but—”
“It was completely about me,” I interrupted. “It was about a hang-up that I have. I can’t—and don’t—have sex on beds. It’s never happened before, but I was so into the moment, so into what we were doing that I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t even realize we were on your bed until…” How the fuck do I explain this? “Until you came. For some reason, all I could focus on were the bedsprings creaking and that’s when I realized where we were. It brought back too much and I freaked. I’m so sorry, Ivy. It had nothing to do with you or anything you did. I just found myself in a situation I was unfamiliar with and choked.”
Her eyes darted all over the room as she tried to comprehend my words. I could tell she was just as confused as before—if not more so. “But I don’t understand. You were fine. We were on the bed the entire time and you were fine.”
“That’s because I honestly didn’t even realize it. I was so wrapped up in you that I wasn’t paying attention. And that has never happened before—ever. I have never been so into someone that I wasn’t aware of my surroundings or my actions.” I had been so lost in my own head that I wasn’t aware of my actions, yes, but never someone else.
Ivy shook her head, looking as if she was trying to understand. “Why can’t you have sex on a bed? It does
n’t make sense to me. Where do you have sex, then?”
“You read books… you know there are other places to fuck than just a bed. I’ve already told you, Ivy, I don’t make love. I fuck… so a wall, a counter”—I looked down—“a couch… they all work just fine for what I do.”
“So you just don’t like beds? Because it makes you feel like you’re doing something other than fucking? What do you have against making love—or just normal sex? Did you freak out because of what we were doing?” she fired the questions one after the other.
My mind was in turmoil and I had no clue where to even start. “My issue with making love—as you call it—is that I don’t believe in it. I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t believe in love. Love ruins people. It blinds them and leads them into a false sense of security. And when the blinders come off, all that’s left is destruction. So I don’t believe that there is such a thing as making love.” I started to mentally prepare myself for her reaction to the secret I was about to reveal and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell her. I took a deep breath and started out slowly, by telling her just the beginning. “But that’s not why I don’t like beds.” I took another deep breath and then said, “When I was eight, I was playing in my parents’ room. I wasn’t supposed to be in there, but I was. My mom didn’t know I was there; she thought I was in my room across the house. When I heard her coming down the hall, I hid under the bed. I didn’t want to get in trouble and thought I’d just wait until she left and then I’d sneak out. She’d never even know I was in there, but she wasn’t alone. Needless to say, I was stuck under the bed the entire time she had sex, listening to the creaking of the bedsprings and the slapping of the headboard.”
“That doesn’t make sense, Cade. Kids hear their parents have sex all the time.”
I shook my head. My breaths started coming out faster, but I didn’t think it was noticeable. I was so good at covering it up. I didn’t know if I could tell her the whole thing just yet. The entire secret. “She wasn’t having sex with my dad. I crawled under that bed as a kid and came out… broken. Those sounds that came from the room during their sexual act are synonymous with destruction for me. They ruined my family. They ruined me. So as you can see, I don’t believe in love because my mom was supposed to love my dad. Instead… she made love to someone else and demolished my foundation. She ruined everything she was supposed to have loved; our family unit was destroyed in one afternoon of sexual passion.”
