Lust(47)

     



 

The harder I fucked her, the more the bed creaked beneath us. At first, I  was able to block it out with the noises Ivy was making, but then she  grew quieter and the creaking became louder. Without realizing it, my  movement started to slow some, and then slow more until it was just  long, hard thrusts.

Ivy's hand gripped my burning bicep hard. Her nails dug into my skin,  bringing my attention to it. I stopped completely and waited for her to  say something, but she never did. That was when I realized the overly  tight grip I had in her hair. I had been yanking on it, forcing her head  to twist in an odd and painful position. I immediately released my hold  on her and pulled away, taking my body completely away from hers. I  moved to the side of the bed and sat facing away from her, cradling my  head in my hands. All I could hear was the sound of her harsh and  panicked breathing. Her frantic pants consumed me and filled me with  dread.

When she didn't move, I looked back at her. That was all I needed. One  look at her and everything changed. My self-loathing immediately turned  into concern for her. The ringing in my ears began to dissipate, causing  the voices to evaporate. The selfish fear that had consumed me turned  into a fear unlike any I had felt before. I dreaded that she was hurt or  scared, and all I wanted to do was fix it. I wanted to take it all away  and never let her feel that way again.

I reached out and grabbed her hand. "Ivy, come here." I tugged on her hand, pulling her closer.

She didn't move beyond the stretch of her arm.

Without pause, I turned and took hold of her waist and pulled her up. I  spun her around until she was sitting on my lap, straddling my thighs. I  couldn't decipher what she was feeling. She was looking at me instead  of averting her eyes but there was too much space between our bodies and  she didn't seem too eager about getting closer. I was about to say  something when she finally spoke, silencing the words on my tongue.

"I'm sorry."

I shook my head, sure I had heard her wrong. "What?"

"I wasn't able to make it go away for you."

Awe over her selflessness filled me. "It's gone …  You did that. I'm okay. But what about you; are you okay?"

The room was dark and I would have given anything to see her face right  then. I needed to see her eyes to know what she was feeling. Everything  about her was a contradiction from the way she sat on me to the words  that came from her mouth. I desperately needed clarity.

She cupped my face in her hands and brought our mouths together,  whispering on my lips. "I'm fine, Cade. I just wish I could make this go  away for you. I wish I could help you the way you've helped me. That's  all I want to do." She sounded as if she were on the verge of tears and  it felt like a knife in my chest, sending piercing pain throughout my  torso until I couldn't breathe.

"Then fix me," I said as I grabbed her ass in my hands and lifted her  until she was pressing down onto me again. "Fucking fix me, Ivy."

She was fully seated on me and I could feel her walls convulse around my  throbbing dick. It was as if our bodies were ready but our heads were  not. I could feel her need for me drip down my balls, but she wouldn't  move, and I didn't want to force her to. I would wait until her body won  out.

"I don't know …  I-" She hesitated and took a breath. "I can't talk dirty  like you want me to. I can't scream and make those porn star noises you  like. I can't be on top and make this sexy for you. I don't know what  I'm doing and I don't want you to look at me and wonder why you're doing  this. I may read about this stuff but I've never done it before."

"This is your book, Ivy. This is your scene-your character. Show me how  Ivy Jaymes would fuck her therapist. Show me how she would ride Caden  Morgan's dick. Read the scene to me. And when you come, come the way Ivy  Jaymes would. Not the way I want you to, but the way you would if you  were alone. I don't need anything else …  I only need you."

"But you like-"

I interrupted her, "I like you, Ivy. I'll like anything you give me. And  when the time is right, I will fuck you like the men in your books do,  and you'll love it so much you won't be able to help but to scream my  name and claw my back. But that doesn't matter right now because this is  your story to tell. So tell it. Tell me the story of how you became the  only woman to ever own me."

I was completely contradicting everything I've ever felt or believed.  Everything I said to her earlier on the couch became a lie. I thought  intimate, passionate sex was only for people that desperately needed to  feel loved by someone else in order to feel anything for themselves. But  as Ivy slowly and erotically grinded on me, I realized that couldn't  have been further from the truth. I believed love to be nothing but a  name given to a temporary feeling that could change in a matter of  minutes. But as she pulled her body closer, pressing her skin against  mine, and our heavy breaths mixed between us, I found that love was more  than that. It was more than a feeling. It wasn't something you simply  felt; it consumed all of you and gave you a reason to take that next  breath. And although it could be temporary, if you fought for it, love  would always win. Ivy fought for me, and I would fight for her. I would  never stop fighting for her.         

     



 

Her lips were next to my ear, blowing hot air into it in short, frenzied  breaths. Her walls began to clench, squeezing me, holding on for dear  life and I knew she was about to let go. Her body began to go taught, no  longer moving to the same rhythm as before so I dug my fingertips into  her hips, feeling her bones beneath them, and helped her ride it out. I  was on the edge, straining to hold on. I needed to wait for her to fall.  I hadn't given her any instructions on what to do other than come the  way she wanted to. I hadn't told her what to say or how to act, and I  needed to watch it before I gave in.

A deep sigh left her, landing on my neck as her orgasm hit her. I  thought that was it; I thought that was the true way Ivy reacted to  release. But then her head shifted and I felt a sharp pain in my  shoulder followed by heat. That was when I realized she was biting me,  sinking her teeth into me, and marking me, the same way I had marked  her. She was showing her ownership over me and I couldn't hold on any  longer.

I took her hips and slammed her against me, pulling back quickly and  then doing it again. Two thrusts and I was coming with the intensity of a  pubescent boy receiving his first hand-job. It ran through me, setting  my skin on fire and making my eyes roll to the back of my head. I had  never felt anything as intense as that before in my life, and I became  an instant addict, needing it again before the high was even over with.

A smile curled my lips up as I placed soft kisses on her neck. I felt  like a boy winning his first trophy in soccer. In one night, I learned  what love was, I found the missing half of me that I never knew was  missing, managed to have sex on a bed without hearing blood-curdling  screams in my head. Ivy did more than fix me because when you fix  something, you can still see where it was broken to begin with. Instead,  she remade me from scratch. She built me back up when I had never even  known I had fallen and made me stronger.

She improved me.

She completed me.

She fucking owned me.

"Hold on, Ivy. I'm about to get up," I said as I flipped her over,  keeping myself inside of her. I hadn't realized until it was over that I  wasn't wearing a condom, nor had I pulled out. But instead of fear  filling me, an overwhelming sense of security blanketed me. I knew that  no matter what we had just done, it was meant to be. Something that  beautiful and intoxicating between two people could never result in  something terrible.

I pulled out slowly, trying to avoid making more of a mess. Her eyes  widened, sparkling with fear in the white moonlight that was cast across  her face. I saw the panic first, and then the confusion. I didn't want  to focus on that because I didn't want it to persuade me to feel the  same. I didn't want to be fearful or confused. I wanted to stay in the  contented bubble we had created together. I just needed her there with  me.

"I'm going to get a washcloth; don't move," I said calmly before leaving her to grab something to clean her up with.

When I came back, she was still in the same position. She hadn't moved  an inch. And then I placed the cool washcloth against her, causing her  to jump back. I stood between her legs and cleaned her off gently,  keeping my calm composure. I then wiped myself off and threw the cloth  into the laundry basket by the door.

She still hadn't moved by the time I got back to the bed so I pushed the  covers back and climbed in. I pulled her beneath the blanket with me,  pressing my chest to her back as I slung one arm over her body and  pushed the other beneath her pillow. I had never lain in bed with a  woman before, but much like I had told Ivy to let her instincts kick in,  it was as if my body just knew what to do with her.