Wicked(80)

Dipping my head, I kissed the one above his heart. My gaze flipped to his when he sucked in a sharp breath. "That tattoo . . . it's beautiful. Does it go down your back?"

He nodded, and I glanced down, running my fingers over the vines, and then I saw that the tattoo bled into three interlocking circles next to his hip, over the lickable indent. "We're marked in the same place."

"I know."

Of course he'd seen it, and I guessed that was why he touched it then. A shudder worked its way through his large body as I trailed my fingers over the vines.

"May I?" Ren caught the edge of my shirt, and with a deep breath, I nodded. He pulled my shirt off, easing my arms out of it. I had no idea where the shirt ended up. His lips parted. "You're beautiful, Ivy."

The way he said it made me feel beautiful—the way he spoke made me feel like a goddess even though my bra was white with yellow daisies on it. Really. I did own sexier stuff. But his hands traveled from my hips, over my stomach, to my breasts. The feeling he left in their wake was a bit frightening and exhilarating. He cradled my breast, his thumb smoothing over the top, teasing the hardening tip through my bra. A moan rushed out of me, and his eyes burned a deep forest green.

"I like the way you look at me," he said, his lips brushing mine. "But do you know what else I like more?"

"What?"

His fingers moved in a slow, torturous circle over my tip. "The sound you make when I please you."

My cheeks burned as I tried to catch my breath. His mouth left mine, trailing a path down my neck, nipping at my skin. He trailed the lacy edges of my bra, then his agile fingers made their way inside the cup, and my back arched, pressing my breast against his flesh. The skin on skin contact thrilled me and heated my blood. When he caught my nipple between his fingers, the sexiest sound I'd ever heard rumbled out of his chest.

I reached for the button on his jeans, popping it through its hole, then I tugged his zipper down. I glanced up when he caught my wrist.

His eyes were on fire. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"I . . . I just want to touch you."

Those thick lashes fluttered, then he guided my hand inside his loosened jeans. My fingers brushed the hot, hard thickness, and I gasped. "You're not wearing . . ."

The grin he gave me was mischievous as his hand moved to my other breast. "I was still in bed when you called. Left in a hurry."

"I'd say," I murmured, turned on in a ridiculous way with the knowledge that he'd been bare under his jeans the whole time.

I stilled as he slipped both hands under each cup. He tugged the bra down, baring my breasts, and he shuddered again, the act making me hot.

"Fuck," he murmured. "I am not worthy of this."

Before I could respond to such an untrue statement, he lowered his head to my breast and took one aching tip into his mouth. I cried out, my senses twisting with each hot, wet pull. My hips rotated, and using my other hand, I pulled on his jeans. He lifted his up, helping me ease them down, baring himself.

Lost in the sensations he was stirring inside me, I rested my cheek against his as he moved one hand down my stomach, inside my loose sweatpants as I wrapped my palm around the base of his hardness. He jerked, his entire body responding to my touch. A teasing bite caused me to cry out, and then I shuddered when his fingers brushed the center of my panties.

His breath was warm in my ear. "I'm going to make you come."

A tight shiver racked me, and I closed my eyes. I stroked him slowly, unsure of what to do because it had been so incredibly long since I'd last done something like this. He groaned against my neck, skimming a finger over my center. A knot tightened low in my belly.

"Am I doing this right?" I whispered.

"Fuck, Ivy. You're doing it perfect." He drew back, scorching a path of kisses along my cheek. He captured my mouth, taking me deeply. "Anything you do is going to be right. Anything."

Encouraged by that, I leaned back and looked down—and then stared, gawked at him like a total idiot, but I couldn't help it, because he wanted me and I wanted him. There was a power in that I had forgotten all about, and probably never fully understood anyway, at least not until now.

"I have a secret to admit," he said, curving his hand over mine while he continued to tease me with his other.

"You do?" I asked, breathless.

He eased my hand up his length. "I did this last night when I got home. I was so fucking turned on by you. I had to."

Oh God.

Turning my head, I found his mouth and kissed him, overwhelmed by what he'd admitted. My grip on him tightened, and he rocked against my palm. Both of us were breathing fast as he gripped the back of my neck while he slipped his fingers under my panties. My heart stuttered as he eased a finger through the wetness gathering between my thighs and then inside me.