“And yet,” he murmurs, leaning closer, his lips a breath from mine, “here you are.”
That’s when the last bit of restraint snaps. The moment our mouths meet, words become useless. Everything we’ve been holding back spills into the way we kiss instead. His lips move with purpose, slow and sure, even as the tension between us winds tighter and hotter.
I tilt my head, and he follows instantly, deepening the kiss in a way that makes my heart stumble. His grip tightens at my hips, dragging me flush against him. A low sound escapes me before I can bite it back. He swallows it greedily, and the answering groan he lets out vibrates straight down my spine.
My brain shouts about professionalism, but my body drowns it out with want. “We can’t…” I murmur between kisses, though I’m already curling my fingers into his shirt. “Not all the way.”
“I respect your limits,” he promises, lips ghosting across my jaw. “But I can’tnottouch you after having a taste.”
Heat rushes through me, pooling low in my belly. God, I’ve been craving this—his mouth, his hands, the way he says my name like it belongs to him. I lean into him, letting my forehead rest against his.
“Then what are you waiting for?” I ask.
A shaky breath escapes him, his hand sliding up my side. The touch is tentative and I make no move to stop him. I want it too much to do anything but surrender to the moment. His palm curls around the back of my thigh, urging me forward. I toss off my shoes and climb into his lap, straddling him carefully. My knees sink into the mattress on either side of him.
“Ivy.” His breathless voice wraps around my name. “Tell me if I go too far.”
I hum in response. His hands roam, moving beneath my scrub top. The contact makes my breath falter. His palms are rough against the warmth of my skin, grounding and electric all at once. He cups my breasts through the delicate lace of my bra, his thumbs brushing over my nipples in slow, aching strokes that pull a gasp from me. The air between us is charged, every movement a jolt straight to my core.
Then he stills. It’s so abrupt I sway forward. His hands pause, fingers grazing against the cool press of metal. He’s not a stranger to body modifications, but this is a part of me no one has touched since I got them done two years ago.
“What the—” His voice is a low rasp. “You have your nipples pierced?”
I chuckle at the way his brows shoot up. “What, you thought I was all scrubs and good behavior?”
There’s a long beat before he exhales deeply, a sound that borders on a growl. “Ivy, fuck,” He leans in, mouth brushing my ear. “I’m trying not to come in my pants. That’s so fucking hot.”
The thought that I can undo him sends a shiver through me, pride and desire twisting tight in my chest. “Maybe don’t try so hard.”
He chuckles and pulls my top over my head. Unfastening my bra, he tosses it on the floor. Once I’m no longer covered, he finds my nipple again, this time with his tongue. He swirls it around the piercing. My breath catches on a broken moan as I arch into him, the heat and wetness of his mouth driving me wild. Moving to the other breast, he repeats the action.
“Holy shit,” he mutters, brushing a knuckle under one titanium barbell. “These might be my new favorite thing.” He runs his hands over my soft skin like he’s memorizing every inch. “Finally having you in my arms, it’s better than I ever dreamed. And trust me, I’ve spent many hours imagining how it would be.”
His words land deep, striking at my insecurities. Sometimes doubt slips in—would he still find me attractive if he could see what I looked like? But the certainty in his voice wipes that fear away. Right now, I feel beautiful, wanted, and completely seen for who I am.
I reach between us, guiding his hand under the waistband of my scrub pants. His fingers find me wet, and he whimpers. This tall, tattooed hockey player fuckingwhimpersfor me.
“I’ve been dreaming about this, too,” I tell him, grinding on his hand. “About riding your fingers and how good you’d feel touching me where I ache the most for you.”
He curls his fingers, stroking me firmly. A slow warmth unfurls deep inside me, a flicker that makes every nerve in my body sizzle with awareness. My hips move, pressing into his hand, greedy for more. Each brush of his touch sharpens the ache, the tension coiling low in my belly until it’s all I can think about.
The air feels thick in my lungs, my skin flushed and hypersensitive, every inch of me coming alive under his hands. His thumb finds my clit, rubbing lightly at first. The sensation is so consuming I can’t stop the moan that escapes my throat. My head falls back, eyes squeezing shut as the world blurs into nothing but his touch.
When he presses harder, pressure builds before it detonates into a burst of stars behind my eyelids. A cry rips from me as Iclench around his fingers, body shuddering with a release so fierce it leaves me trembling. The orgasm crashes over me in waves, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, leaving me breathless and undone in his arms.
Teddy eases his fingers out, my body still trembling from the aftershocks. Without hesitation, he brings his digits to his mouth, sucking them clean with a low groan like he’s savoring my taste. The sight makes my pulse trip, and my core clenches all over again just from watching him.
I grip his shoulders and start rocking against his dick, the pressure delicious and maddening. Each grind pulls a deeper sound from his chest, a needy mix of restraint and desperation that only fuels me more.
“If you keep doing that, I won’t last long,” he moans, breath hot against my skin.
My mouth finds his in response, desperate and messy, tongues tangling as if we can’t get close enough. I taste myself on him, intoxicated by the rush it brings. My hands fist his damp hair, tugging him to me while his lips trail fire across my jaw, down my throat, and then back to my mouth. Each kiss feels like it’s claiming a piece of me I’ll never want back.
I know the exact moment he loses the battle because his whole body shakes. His grip on my hips brands me, his groan vibrating through both of us. He presses his forehead to my collarbone, breathing heavily.
“Fuck, Ivy,” he gasps, clutching me like I’m the only thing keeping him from falling. “I feel like a goddamn teenager.”
I laugh breathlessly, scattering kisses along his neck. “I wanted to be the one who makes the playboy winger lose it.”
