"Okay. Mine's still a mess from unpacking."
I unlock my door, and we slip inside.
I've prepared.
The candles I had to bribe housekeeping to bring up flicker on the nightstand. There's champagne chilling in an ice bucket, the good kind this time, not the cheap swill Riley bought. The bedding is fresh, the lighting soft. Through the windows, the city lights sparkle across the night like a thousand diamonds in the dark.
"Declan." Ivy's voice is breathless as she looks around. "When did you do all this?"
"This afternoon while you were with Dr. Logan." I pour two glasses of champagne, handing her one. "I wanted tonight to be special."
"Why?
Because I'm falling in love with you. Because you're ending things with King, which means you're choosing the real me, even if you don't know it yet. Because I want to give you something beautiful before the truth destroys everything.
"Because you're special and you deserve this treatment," I say instead.
We drink, and I watch her take in the room. She sets down her glass and wraps her arms around my neck.
"I've never done this before. I've been too busy chasing after my dreams. But now, I'm finally with someone who matters."
The confession makes affection blossom in my chest.
I kiss her deeply, pouring everything I can't say into the contact. She melts against me, her fingers tangling in my hair, her small body fitting perfectly against mine.
"Let me take care of you," I murmur against her lips. "Let me make this good for you."
"It's already good."
"It's going to be better."
I undress her slowly, memorizing every inch of skin revealed. The curve of her shoulder. The dip of her waist. The way she shivers when I kiss her hip bone.
When she's bare before me, I guide her to the bed, laying her down on those fresh sheets because she's precious. Mine.
"You're beautiful," I tell her, because she needs to hear it.
"I'm..."
"You are." I settle beside her, my hand spanning her ribcage, feeling her heartbeat rabbit-fast beneath my palm. "Don't argue with me about this."
A nervous laugh escapes her. "Okay."
I kiss her again, deeper this time, my hand sliding lower. She's already wet. The discovery makes me groan against her mouth.
My mouth sucks her nipples, my hand kneading her butt until she's moaning incoherently. My fingers slide into her until she calls my name. Then I position myself above her, taking my weight on my forearms.
"I've got you. Tell me if anything hurts or if you want me to stop. Okay?"
"Okay."
I enter her slowly, giving her body time to adjust. She's tight, tense. My fingers caress her breast, so she can focus on the pleasure instead of the pain.
"Breathe," I murmur, pressing kisses to her jaw, her neck, anywhere I can reach. "Just breathe, beautiful."
She does, and I feel her soften around me. I push deeper, inch by careful inch, until I'm fully seated inside her.
The sensation is overwhelming. Like every part of me recognizes every part of her. Like this is what I've been searching for without knowing it.
