Lust(33)

Yet I had never wanted a woman to touch me as much as I wanted her to. Never.

Ivy looked as though she was about to say something but then closed her  lips. My heart was pounding in my chest, and in my pants, as I waited  for her to do or say something. It seemed like a lifetime had passed  before her hand was on the door handle and swinging it open. I tried to  catch her but failed; my fingers narrowly missed her shirt as she flew  out of the car.

I slammed my hands against the steering wheel, letting out a string of  curses, and then shut the car off, chasing her up the stairs to her  apartment. I caught up with her on the top step and forced her to turn  around and face me.

"Don't run from me like that, Ivy," I panted out breathlessly. I wasn't  out of breath from the run or the stairs …  I was out of breath because of  what she did to me in the car. I hadn't lied when I told her she  literally stole the breath from my lungs, and that moment proved it to  be true.

"I can't do this, Cade," she whimpered, and that's when I noticed the  tears streaming down her face. "Please …  let me go. I need to go inside. I  need to be alone. Please."

Her pleading voice and the level of desperation in her tone caused me to  let go of her, but I couldn't just turn around and walk away. She had  me. Her tears nearly broke my heart in two. But that was the problem  because she didn't even know-she had no idea how much she had of me. She  literally owned me at that moment.

I followed her into her apartment, pushing her forward so that she had  no other choice but to let me in. The door closed behind me as I leaned  against it, watching as she continued to back away from me. Her eyes  were wide and scared; the soft light from a single lamp in the corner  gave away her true emotions. I had once thought of her like a scared  kitten and my initial reaction was to corner her. But standing there and  looking at her now, all I wanted to do was sit and wait for her to come  to me, to trust me enough to eat from my hand.         

     



 

"I don't know what you want me to do," she confessed quietly, filling  the room with her soft words. They landed on my ears like a whisper,  like her lips were right there, blowing soft words into them.

The irony was not lost on me. She didn't know what I wanted her to do,  and I didn't know what I wanted her to do. I knew what needed to be  done, though, but I didn't think I had it in me to push her away. I  shouldn't have followed her inside her apartment. I shouldn't have been  standing in front of her half naked. And I definitely shouldn't have  been looking at her as if she were, too. All I could think about was the  color of her skin as I brought her to orgasm earlier. The way her  breaths came out in staggered intervals and the way her body stiffened  and then relaxed beneath me.

"Why do you want to touch me?" I asked, feeling at war with myself.

She spun around, showing me her back. Without thought, I took the three  long strides to reach her and grabbed onto her waist, spinning her and  pushing her until her back was against the wall and her chest was  against mine. I could feel her heavy panting on my chest and her warm  hands on my sides, causing my dick to throb so hard it hurt.

I grabbed her face with both hands and tilted it up until I could see  her eyes. The streaks of tears were gone, leaving behind nothing but the  dried trails of where they had been along her skin. I wanted to lick  them until they disappeared, until there was no proof that remained of  her pain. I wanted to kiss her eyes until the swelling caused by her  fear dissipated.

"You're touching me now. Why can't this be enough for you?" I hadn't  realized how close our lips were until the words were spoken, until I  could feel the heat of my question against my own skin as it bounced off  hers. It took everything in me to keep myself from closing in that tiny  space and devouring her mouth because I needed to know her answer.

She pushed me away from her and I allowed it, taking a few steps back.  The cold absence of her body was immediately felt throughout me. I  waited impatiently as she pulled herself together enough to look up and  speak.

"You don't get it, Cade," she said defiantly, her voice deep with  emotion. "I have read things that make me feel …  that make me crave the  kinds of feelings you give me. But I never go after it because I know I  can never achieve it. I know that if I try, which I have on two  different occasions, that it would do nothing but blow up in my face. I  know this. So even though I want that, I never even think about giving  in. But you … " Her tone changed, softened until her emotions were so raw  they were pouring out of her in waves. " … You make me want them. You make  me believe I can experience them. Yet the one time I try to go after  it, you push me away. You reject me and make me think that I was right  all along. I don't deserve these things. I don't deserve to feel the  things I read about."

I felt my shoulders drop, and that voice in my head that told me what  was right and wrong fell away. I was no longer thinking about what I  should've done, that I shouldn't be there with her and that I shouldn't  give in to her. All I could think about was giving her everything she  ever wanted.

"But why do you want to touch me? Like that?"

She licked her lips slowly and relented, finally giving me what I had  asked for. "I have had sex, twice, but that's all it was. I have never  touched a …  a penis before. I don't know what it feels like. I've never  really cared before. But now …  now I want to. When you did that thing to  me, it made me want a lot of things. Things I've never wanted before or  even cared to have. When I first came to you, it was because I wanted to  have sex without feeling like I was going crazy. I wanted to have the  opportunities that everyone else has …  to be able to have sex when I  wanted to." She shook her head, trying to make sense of the jumbled  thoughts that were coming out. "Bottom line? I wanted to have sex in  order to be normal. But you make me want to have sex because I want it.  You make me wonder what it's like to touch a man that way. I've never  had these thoughts before."

I cursed at myself silently. "All of that will come in time, Ivy. You'll  find a guy that you have special feelings toward and then you can touch  him."

Her eyes went to the floor between our feet and she nodded meekly, like I  had just scolded her. "I felt you …  tonight. When we were dancing and  when we were in your office. I just thought that maybe I was having an  effect on you, too." Her voice was so low I had to focus on every word  just to make sure I heard them correctly. "Never mind," she said,  shaking her head and pushing away from the wall. Her eyes never left the  floor.         

     



 

I stepped forward and pushed into her, making sure she could feel me on  her thigh. "That is one of the effects you have on me," I ground out  into her ear, feeling her breathing come to a halt. "Trust me when I  tell you that you will have no problem finding a man to let you touch  him." I pressed my hips further into her thigh and curled my body around  hers more until she was literally consumed by me. "God, why couldn't I  have met you in a different way?" I wasn't asking her, just throwing my  thoughts out into the space to get them out of my head.

Her shoulders shook softly beneath my arms and I backed away a few  inches to look down at her. She immediately covered her face with her  hands, hiding herself from me again. How could I continue seeing her as a  patient if I was having this hard of a time denying her of anything? I  didn't want to deny her, I wanted to give her everything she asked for. I  wanted her to take everything she needed in order to be whole again …   even if that meant my heart. I'd give it to her in a second. No  questions asked.

I pressed my lips to hers, tasting the salt from her tears, and then  backed away. Her large eyes remained on mine until my back reached the  opposite wall in the small hallway. My heavy breathing and racing heart  fought against my impulsivity, trying to warn me against it. They tried  to rush oxygen to my brain so that I'd see what I was doing was wrong.  But I was past the point of no return. I no longer cared. I saw it. I  knew it. It was wrong, but I didn't care.

"There are lines I can't cross. I'm a professional and there are rules I  have to follow. Our interaction must be productive to your treatment  and I have to keep your wellbeing in mind at all times. Allowing you to  touch me or to perform any sexual acts on me goes against everything.  Allowing you to do such things does not benefit you …  it only benefits  me," I started to explain, my voice gruff due to the pressure in my  pants.

"Then how can you have sex with us?"

"Because it's not done for my enjoyment …  hell, it's not even done for  your enjoyment. It's done with the simple purpose of exposing intimacy  to you, to show you that you can be in that situation and that you've  overcome your fears. It's not done for enjoyment." I tried to make my  words hard and clinical, but it was difficult.