Page 77 of Yours Truly

It is my favorite. She is my favorite.

Trace

Flinging her onto my bed, I don’t bother with the lights. Moonlight spills into the room, illuminating the space with mood lighting. My Firecracker in that lacy thing with her badass boots on? Fuckin’ A.

And what's with me blowing for her without touch, over and over? She’s changed my DNA, I swear. She crawls up the bed, wearing a smirk that tells me she isn’t done having her way with me.

“God,” I groan, stroking my hardening cock. “I want to get inside you so bad. That was so hot.”

“You liked it, then?” she asks, pulling down the straps to her outfit. My cock jumps like it’s the first time he’s seen tits, but in truth, it’s her. She rewires my brain, short-circuits reason and makes me abandon thought. When Ivy is naked in front of me, all I can think about is greeting cards with hearts and poems, wedding bands and forever.

I nod. “A lot.”

She smiles, pushing wavy dark hair behind her ear as she yanks the lingerie from her foot. “I have something else for you to try, and I’m making an assumption that you’ve never done it.”

“You keep me on my toes, baby, so you know what, I probably haven’t done it.” Grabbing a condom from the box in the bathroom, I sheath my cock then knee my way onto the bed, hovering over her as she slides onto her back. With her blinking up at me, the house quiet and my brain still, I have the strongest urge to coil my hand gently around her neck and press my lips softly to hers. To ease her into a slow, meaningful kiss where I share how I feel without words. The last time I kissed a woman with those intentions, I was in love.

I gave her a ring.

“There’s so much we don’t know about each other still,” I breathe. “But you have me in a choke hold, Ivy Ellington.”

She bites her bottom lip then says, “I’m about to have you in amazon.”

My brows pinch and before I know it, she’s hooked her legs around me, and flipped me to my back, my chest pounding from her wild laughter.

“Bend your knees,” she says, her laughter fading, smile evolving into something more sensual.

“Like this?” I ask as I curl my knees to my chest. When she nods her approval, I feel like a dog getting an atta boy from his owner. If I had a tail it would wag.

“Now, I’m gonna fuck you,” she whispers, leaning over my curled legs to find my lips for a kiss.

“With a strap?” I ask, wholly confused as to how we’re having sex with me in this vulnerable position. And when I envision Ivy exploring my prostate with a strap-on and fucking me? I don’t hate the idea. In fact, I look down to find my cock happy and hard along my belly.

She shakes her head. “Nope, this is amazon position. I’m in control, so I’m fucking you, but with your own cock.”

“I don’t know if I get it,” I admit. She’s the one above me, the one who knows what she’s doing, the one teaching me, and the contrast to us in the studio versus bedroom is something I never thought I’d like, but I’m beneath her in awe.

Aligning her knees on either side of my rib cage, she smooths her palms over my knees, and instinctively I drive my heels into her lower back. Slowly, she sinks down on my cock, taking every inch slow, all while telling me to watch.

“See that? See the way I’m taking your cock, how I’m in control?”

I can’t decide where I want to look because I want to look everywhere—at the way her soft pink lips clench my veiny cock as she sinks down on it, at the way she peers down at where we connect, at her velvety tits with hard little tips, at the silhouette of us drawn against the floor. When she glances up at me, I lock onto her eyes, and with that, she starts riding me.

Hard.

Harder than I expected, harder than I envisioned for this position, harder than I was prepared for.

How can I feel the burn of another orgasm coiling in my groin after what we’ve already done? I don’t know. But within a few seconds of her full tits swaying, her dark hair spilling down her back, her hands gripping my knees with force, I feel it. I feel the swell of release growing in my balls, making my cock ache and my taint burn.

“You like it when I fuck you? Hmm?” she questions as she rides, her eyes growing hazy and hooded, just like mine.

“Yes,” I answer, my mouth cottony as I struggle for better words. Dirty talk. Filthy talk. Shit talk. Anything.

But I can’t.

All I can do is lie on my back and watch the most beautiful woman in the world slide up and down on my cock and pray my fuse is long enough that I don’t come before she gets her pleasure .

With a jerk of her hips, the angle changes, and my eyes squeeze shut, the last bit of self-restraint draining from me as my ass clenches and my cock throbs. “Ivy, you’re so tight, so good,” I praise, a stark contrast to my usual sex talk. The truth falls from my lips without thought, and I reach up, twisting my finger in loose strands of onyx silk, tugging gently. “Firecracker,” I rasp, and though she rides me hard and fast, bed squeaking, tits swaying, my world spinning—the moment is still intimate. My heart beats louder than the room around us, my mind shouts even louder.

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