She stares up at me, chest still heaving from the ride. Her pupils are blown wide, dark swallowing green. I can see the fight in her—that instinct to push back, to never let anyone corner her. But she doesn't move.
Doesn't try to slip away.
Her fingers slide up my chest, nails scraping over my jacket. “You first.”
My jaw clenches. She's always doing this—turning the tables, refusing to give an inch without taking two.
“What do you want from me?” The words come out rougher than I mean them to.
“Everything.” She yanks me down by the collar, her mouth crashing into mine.
Fuck.
I let her take it. Let her kiss me like she's trying to prove something, tongue sliding past my lips, teeth catching my bottom lip hard enough to sting. My hands stay on the wall even though every instinct screams to touch her, to grab her hips and pin her here until we're both breathless.
But this is hers. This moment. This control.
Her fingers dig into my collar, yanking harder, and I let her. Let her shove me against the opposite wall, her body slamming into mine like she's claiming territory. Her mouth doesn't break from mine—it's all teeth and tongue, biting down on my lip until I taste blood. I growl into her kiss, but I don't take over. Not yet.
She breaks away, gasping, eyes wild. In these seconds, I know what she needs. More than anything and anyone I know what she needs.
Her hands shove at my jacket zipper, pulling it down rough enough to catch skin. Cold air hits my chest, but her palms follow, scraping over my pecs, nails leaving red lines. She's frantic, unbuckling my belt with shaking fingers, and I watch her, letting the smirk creep onto my face.
“That's it,” I murmur, voice low and rough. “Take what you want, baby. Show me how bad you need it.”
She glares up at me, but her cheeks flush deeper. She yanks my pants open, shoving them down just enough to free my cock. It's already hard, throbbing in the cold alley air, and she wraps her hand around it, stroking once, hard and fast. I hiss through my teeth, hips jerking forward involuntarily.
Her mouth is on me before I can process it, hot, wet, and fucking perfect. She wraps those lips around my cock and sucks—hard—tongue swirling around the head like she's trying to drive me insane.
“Jesus—fuck—” My head slams back against the brick, eyes squeezing shut.
She takes me deeper, hollowing her cheeks, and the sound that comes out of me is barely human. My hand shoots to her hair, fingers tangling in those dark strands, and I have to force myself not to grip too tight, not to take over and fuck her mouth the way I want to.
Let her have this. Let her have control.
But fuck if it isn't killing me.
Her tongue traces the underside of my cock, following that thick vein, and my hips buck involuntarily. She pulls back just enough to shoot me a look—half warning, half challenge—before taking me deeper. So deep I hit the back of her throat and she doesn't even gag, just swallows around me like she was made for this.
“Ivy—” Her name comes out strangled.
She pulls off with an obscene pop, a string of saliva connecting her lips to my cock. “Shut up.”
Then she's lower, tongue dragging over my balls, sucking one into her mouth while her hand works my shaft. The dual sensation makes my knees threaten to buckle. My fingers tightenin her hair—not guiding, just holding on, trying to anchor myself to something solid while she destroys me.
She takes me back in her mouth, deeper this time, nose pressing against my pelvis. I feel her throat work around me and my vision whites out for a second. My grip in her hair tightens, and she moans around my cock, the vibration shooting straight up my spine.
“Fuck—baby, you're—” I can't finish the sentence. Can't think past the wet heat of her mouth, the way she's looking up at me through those lashes, mascara-smudged and wrecked and so fucking beautiful it hurts.
She bobs faster, hand working what doesn't fit in her mouth, and I'm fighting every instinct I have not to thrust, not to fuck her throat, not to take back control and show her exactly how good she makes me feel.
But this is hers. This moment. This power.
Even if it's killing me to give it to her.
I snap, forcing her up by her hair. She swipes at her lips, innocence flashing over her face like she didn't just make me visit Jesus six times in less than ten seconds.
Her thumbs hook into the band of her pants as they drop to the ground at her feet.
