Page 73 of The Devil of Downtown

The kitchen is quiet when I walk in. I grab a glass, fill it with water, and take a long drink that does nothing to settle the tangle in my chest. The house still smells like her, the faint hint of her perfume lingering where she walked last night.

I carry the water back toward the bedroom.

Back to her.

And for the first time in a long time, the morning doesn’t feel like something I have to fight my way through.

When I return to the bedroom, she’s somehow become entangled in the sheet. It’s wrapped around her midriff, exposing the smooth, tan skin of her back, the delicate curve of her spine, her dark hair spilling over her shoulder like black satin. A pinching sensation cloys at my heart. The need to touch her borders on obsession. I place the glass down quietly and perch on the edge of the bed. Gently, I run my finger up her lithe legs; the skin like silk to the touch. She emits a warm sigh and wiggles closer, almost as if she’s seeking more in her sleep. Unable to resist, my hand trails the heat between her thighs until her slick pussy coats my fingers. A quiet groan rumbles in my chest, my heart rate kicking up a notch. The need for Ivy is too strong, too hard to resist. I’ve no idea what witchcraft she’s performed, but I don’t care as I delve deeper, circling her swollen clit, her breathy whimpers like music to my ears. I spread her legs, gripping the top of her thighs with both hands and drag mytongue along her slit, lapping up her sweet juices. Her eyes fly open, and she lets out a guttural moan that makes me so hard it’s almost painful. My heavy balls begin to ache as she arches against me, half-asleep, half-turned on.

“Dane?” she questions, sleepy voice thick with arousal.

“If there’s another man alive who gets to do this, he’s a fucking dead man walking,” I growl, my possessive streak wildly out of control for Ivy. The desire to own her completely in the bedroom is intoxicating. I tease her clit with soft strokes until she’s writhing on my tongue, her breathy moans tinged with frustration.

“Get on your hands and knees, Ivy, and I might just give you what you want.”

Immediately, she scrambles onto her knees, her perfect ass presented just for me, swollen pussy glistening with need. My pulse hammers in my throat, the muscles in my neck locked tight.

I yank open the bedside drawer and pull out some silk ties, cool and smooth against my fingertips. I lean over her, my front pressed against her back, and my voice a feral rasp in her ear. “Give me your wrists.” She does without hesitation, and I tighten the black silk around her delicate bone, tying it securely to the cold, wrought-iron railing. I do the same with the other, pulling the knot taut.

I let the moment linger, trailing my fingers over the small of her back down to the swell of her ass until her breaths are coming hot and fast. As I tease her with soft strokes, she lets out a soft whimper that undoes me. Unable to wait a second longer, I sink into her with one deep drive.

She cries out, that sharp, gasping sound that I’m beginning to love. Her back arches, driving herself back onto me, taking me deeper.

I set a punishing pace from the start, my hips pumping hard, hands holding her waist with a vice-like grip. “Damn, Ivy,” I groan as my control snaps. “What the fuck are you doing to me?”

A rumble of amusement vibrates in her chest. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one that’s doing it all right now,” she pants out, shallow breaths dissolving into a loud moan.

A laugh seeps through my feral grunts—this woman has me losing my goddamn mind.

The bed rocks with the force of our movement, the headboard slapping a steady rhythm against the wall.

Already, I can feel the tension coiling in her, the fine tremors that race through her thighs. I slide a hand around her hip, my thumb finding her clit, and with one press, she breaks. Her entire body locks, a throaty moan torn from her lips as she shudders around me; the sensations so intense I have to grit my teeth to keep from following her over. I ride out her pleasure, driving into her through every spasm until she goes limp against the sheets, her breaths ragged.

My hands are instantly at her wrists, fingers working the silk knots loose. They fall away. I lean back against the wall and lift her toward me. “Come here, baby,” I say, my voice softer now. “I need to look at you while I fuck you.”

She moves slowly, languidly, her limbs heavy with satiation. I guide her to my lap, and she sinks down onto me with a slow, exquisite sigh. This time, it feels different. Deeper. More intimate. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close, our faces inches apart.

I move my hips, a slow, rolling grind that makes her eyes flutter closed. “No, Ivy,” I murmur. “Look at me.” Her eyelids open, her dark pupils blown wide with pleasure. “You don’t look away. You look right at me.”

I keep the pace agonizingly slow, a torturous, tender drag that has us both trembling. I can see every flicker of sensation crossher face—the sharp intake of breath, the soft parting of her lips, the dazed wonder in her eyes.

She arches her back, presenting her breasts to me. I lower my head and take one taut nipple into my mouth, sucking hard, then grazing it with my teeth. She gasps, her fingers tangling in my hair. My hands anchor on her waist, controlling our rhythm, lifting her almost off me before pulling her down, forcing me so damn deep.

That’s when I see the shift. Her breath hitches, her body trembling as the first wave of her climax begins to crest. Her hair falls in wild tendrils across her face.Her lips part, teeth sinking into the soft flesh as if to stifle the cry building in her throat. But it escapes anyway, the sound sending a jolt straight through me.

Her eyes lock onto mine, glazed with lust. She’s never looked more beautiful than in this moment—untamed, completely lost in me.I grip her hips tighter, driving into her, burying myself as far as I can go.

I crash my lips against hers in a savage kiss, teeth clashing, tongues tangling. There’s a metallic tang—her blood or mine, I don’t care. She moans into my mouth; her nails digging into my back, pulling me closer.

Her body clenches around me with a tightness that pulls me over the edge with her. My orgasm hits like thunder, an explosion of sensation so intense it steals my breath. I shudder violently, my hips jerking as I pump my cum deep inside her, every nerve alight with white-hot pleasure. It’s the hardest I’ve ever come, the force of it leaving me dizzy.

She stays on top of me, just kissing, making out for what feels like forever. My lips find hers, not in the savage, claiming kiss from before, but in a slow, searching press.

We take our time, tasting each other, the kind of kiss you pull from deep in your gut. My hands slide up her back, tracing the delicate ridge of her spine, the muscles of her shoulders, hersilky smooth skin. I skim my palms over the glorious swell of her hips, then back up to cup the heavy weight of her breasts. They are impossibly soft, her nipples pebbled and sensitive against my palms.

I miss her the second she breaks the kiss.

“Is everything okay, baby?” My eyes search hers, and I sense her pull back. It’s just a fraction, but it’s there.