Page 68 of Yours Truly

“Ivy,” he groans.

“You already said that,” I tease softly, flicking his nipple again as his core tightens. He attempts to move beneath me but with a soft yet stern shake of my head, his body relaxes.

“I can’t—” he breathes, the ring in his nostril gleaming as he struggles for breath, his forehead glazed in sweat.

“Can’t what?” I ask, licking my lips, my cunt pulsing as his eyes follow the tip of my tongue.

“I’m losing my mind here,” he groans, urging us both to look down at his crotch.

“A firecracker,” he breathes, finally taking note of the new ink on his body. With his pants pushed down, the curves of his lean hips exposed, the thatch of dark hair poking out, I’m hit with a wave of arousal so hard that wetness blooms between my legs, flooding my panties.

“A firecracker,” I repeat, moving my eyes back to his as I take my hand from his nipple, shucking his jeans down past his cock. My thumb grazes the cage, skimming his hot flesh that pokes through the metal, causing him to curse and growl.

“Fuck, Ivy, Jesus Christ, I don’t think I—” He loses track of his sentence as I replace my hand beneath his shirt, on his chest, and get back to work teasing his nipples.

“Trace Wade,” I murmur, dusting my lips against his in the most teasing kiss, “are you going to come for me?”

“Ivy,” he sputters, his core clenching, his rapid heart pounding against my palm as I give his nipple a final flick.

A moment later, he groans, and it’s so feral and wild that my chest vibrates from it, and then heat—so much heat— is splashing onto my arm.

He’s coming, and as much as I want to see his trapped cock spurting everywhere from my subtle teasing, I keep my eyes on him. He returns the contact, his jaw falling apart only slightly as he orgasms from the tease.

I could come from this. From bringing a man like him to his proverbial knees from so little physical touch and so much mental control.

An array of emotions swarms me as I finally lower my mouth to his. His tongue lunges into mine, discovering every part of me as I process the moment.

I’m proud of him for letting himself have this. For not needing control or booze. I’m proud of me for doing it— for having the courage to do it. For being brave enough to show him that I can help. For doing something I myself have never done, but having the confidence to try it.

And the last thought that crushes me as I break the kiss and finally look at the mess on his belly and chest? I’m beyond wanting him.

I have to have him.

Forever.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” he rasps, pushing up to his elbows as we both take in the beautiful mess.

With our eyes idling together, I lower my mouth to his belly, and kiss my way through the mess, licking my lips every few inches. He groans as I taste his cum, slowly showing him my appreciation and love while cleaning him up only slightly.

After a minute of cum-filled kisses, I sit up and smile, a pearly drop still in the corner of my mouth. He curses his pleasure as I push the last drop of him into my mouth, and reach for a paper towel to clean him up.

“Ivy,” he says, taking the towel from my hand to wipe himself up.

“You keep saying that,” I tease, reaching behind me to release the key from my throat. He outstretches his palm and I lower the key there. “Try again.”

“Thank you,” he replies quickly, his brow pinched in thought as he tosses away the paper towel, reaching behind himself to tug his shirt off over his head. Watching his elbow jut out, his bicep flex as he pulls it off tests me— I’ve never been this wet and swollen before. Ever. “And… I need to taste you. Watching you fucking do whatever it is you just did, making me rocket the fuck off without a touch— I need to get my mouth on you. Right now. Please.”

He sits up, swinging his legs off the chair, reaching for me.

I pull back. “Not here. This is my workplace. That would be hugely unprofessional.”

His nostrils flare. “My house. Now.”

I rise, grabbing my things from my cupboard, handing him our standard tattoo aftercare bag.

“First, you need to unlock,” I nod to his caged cock which is still exposed, and God is that fucking hot. “Then you need to lock up,” I smile, referring to the shop.

“Wait for me. Ride with me,” he says, his tone bordering on desperate and begging. I love it.

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