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Hold Me Tight(28)

By:Faith Sullivan


His ferocity is such a turn-on, just like our first time together when he tore me out of the dress I was wearing. I feel myself clench down below. I sigh, briefly closing my eyes. But that’s the thing. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be responding like this. Dr. P. said no sex—or anything close to sex—and what Eric’s doing is bringing me pretty darn close.

“Eric, I—” I start, but I can’t finish when I feel his fingers sliding under one of the straps of my cami.

My eyes, which were starting to close, fly open when I hear a metallic click as he unsheathes his pocket knife. My heart takes on an erratic beat. What’s he doing? He wields the knife expertly, bringing it under the strap and cutting through it with one swift stroke. Before I can even breathe, he does the same thing to the other side.

The cami immediately falls down, exposing my swollen breasts, which are just aching to be cupped by his big, strong hands. But the element of danger he’s introduced has my eyes riveted on the knife as he guides the dull edge of the blade down my chest. He’s never tried anything like this before. But it’s working. I’m completely attuned to the sensation of the cold metal running across my overheated skin.

I remain completely still as he guides the knife from my body, slicing it through the seam of my cami before closing it and shoving it back in his jeans. With his finger, he retraces the path he just took with the knife, and the contrast it evokes is maddening. I toss and turn against the sheets, unable to stay motionless any longer.

He strips away what’s left of my cami before I feel his hands reach for my hips. I barely notice what he’s doing as he removes the rest of my clothing. I’m completely naked before him when he pauses, unsure of what to do next.

We both want this, but we can’t have it. At least, not the way we’re used to.

My eyes flicker as he plays with my breasts before uttering my name with a groan. “Ivy…”

“I know,” I respond, looking up at him mournfully.

“I don’t know where to go from here,” he sighs.

I try to stay focused on what he’s saying as his thumbs find my nipples. “Yeah, we should probably stop,” I say, throwing an arm across my face, hating myself for having to put an end to this just when it was getting so unbelievably hot.

“I’m sorry, Ivy. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I wasn’t sure if you’d…” His voice trails off uncertainly.

Shit. He thinks I didn’t like it, but he couldn’t be more wrong. I freakin’ loved it.

“Eric, look at me,” I implore, sitting up on my elbows.

His hands travel to my baby bump, massaging it gently as he glances up at me from beneath his lashes.

“That was amazing,” I assure him. “What a ‘welcome home’ present!” I giggle as he comes to rest between my knees, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“I’d never hurt you. I just wanted to—” he stammers, getting embarrassed.

“Try something new?” I finish, and he nods. “Eric, you make me feel so safe.” He lowers his shoulders, visibly relaxing. “I’m willing to go wherever you want to take me.”

His eyes connect with mine, strengthening the bond of trust between us even more.

“There’s just one problem,” I remark, getting all serious with him.

“What? What is it?” he asks, a worried expression crossing his face.

“While I do enjoy the adventurous side of our relationship, I like it even better when I can reciprocate.” I grin at him devilishly, pushing him away from me as I get off the bed.

I give him a playful shove and he falls into the space I just vacated. He’s right where I want him as I stand over him and hold out my hand.

“Give it to me,” I order, and he blinks a few times, trying to comprehend my request. “Or do I have to take it from you myself?” I reach for the bulge in his front pocket, and his fingers encircle my wrist as I draw out the knife.

His breath starts coming in uneven spurts as I extend the blade. “Ivy, be careful.”

“Always,” I respond, enjoying this immensely.

I don’t know where to start. There are so many ways I can go with this. He’s already trembling and I haven’t even touched him yet.

His t-shirt is tightly hugging the curves of his chest, itching to be removed. His jeans are already riding low on his hips as I ease the blade under his shirt, exposing the v-shaped pelvic muscle that’s as sexy as hell. Deftly, I begin to slice through the fabric, intending to take my time in torturing him, but the blade is a lot sharper than I thought and it melts right through the cotton all the way to the collar.