Page 3 of Covetous

My fingers trace the contour of his cheek with the softest touch, resting against his warm skin. “That’s right, baby.”

Everything’s fine. We’re fine.

Our attraction was instant the moment we walked past each other at Club Vivid last July. He bought me a drink, and then we danced all night, exchanging numbers before the evening ended. We had our first date three days later. And two weeks after that, he wanted us to be exclusive. I hesitated at first, considering how quickly everything was progressing. But he was persistent and eventually won me over.

The I love yous followed soon after. Then a month ago, Ian proposed in front of his entire family at his grandparents’ sixtieth-anniversary party. With tears in my eyes, mirroring his, I said yes.

Ian is all in, and so am I. I’ve never been someone’s everything before. It’s an unfamiliar experience for me to be someone’s sole focus. The lavish gifts, excessive compliments, public displays of affection, nonstop texts, and constant togetherness were all new to me in the beginning. Over time, I’ve grown accustomed to his way of showing love.

But whenever he’s angry with me, he withdraws from me as a form of punishment.

The headboard of Esme’s bed starts banging ceaselessly against the wall, dragging a huff from deep in my chest. “When are they going to be done?”

Ian’s fingers trace a path up my hipbone. “We should join them.”

I wrinkle my forehead in confusion. He can’t be serious. “Join them how?”

He rolls his eyes. “Not like that. You belong to me and only me. But why should they have all the fun? I told you. I need you.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask, a hint of flirtatiousness in my tone as I twirl my luscious locks around my finger. Ian loves it when I get all pouty and play with my hair.

A low hum of appreciation escapes him. “My perfect, perfect girl.”

I climb on top of him, wearing a smile with my lip caught between my teeth. “I guess my paper can wait.” The feel of his muscles beneath my fingertips is exquisite as I brush them across his tawny-beige chest.

He takes my eyeglasses off, setting them next to his on the nightstand. “Now that I’ve had you, I can’t stop wanting it.”

My fingers weave their way through the tight curls of his mid-taper fade. I cherish the lush thickness of his hair and how crisp he keeps it lined. “Put your mouth on me, baby,” I whisper. Ian, eager as always, goes in for a kiss, but I retreat, shaking my head. Instead, I guide his hand to my mouth and suck two of his fingers, swirling my tongue around them to make them sloppy wet. He groans, his cock swelling and hardening beneath me.

“Down there,” I say, moving his wet fingers to my panties. What I would give to feel his mouth on me, sucking on my clit. He’s only gone down on me twice—the first time we had sex and the night after he proposed.

“Later. I promise. I need to be inside you first.” He takes hold of the bottom of my T-shirt, lifting it over my breasts.

Pushing aside my disappointment, I raise my shirt completely over my head.

“Tell me you’re mine,” Ian says, his voice low and his eyes full of vulnerability.

I’ll tell him what he wants to hear. What he needs to hear as my hips circle slowly, grinding against his dick. “I’m yours.”

His breaths come out in short pants with every roll of my pelvis. “Promise me you’ll never leave me. That it’ll be us forever.”

The back of my eyes sting with unshed tears as gratitude and what feels like love wash over me. I lean over him, putting his arms above his head and lacing my fingers through his. “Where would I go?” My voice breaks on the last word.

Ian rescued me from a world of loneliness and sadness that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay him for—but I’ll try. I’ll marry him and give him babies and all the love my damaged heart has in it.

Closing his eyes, Ian lets my words sink in. I graze my fingers down the tight muscles in his arms, kissing the sharp tip of his crooked nose until I reach his plush lips, where I take my time. As our tongues duel in a passionate kiss, I stretch my arm across the bed, wanting to retrieve a condom from my nightstand drawer.

I’m suddenly flipped over, face down on the mattress. “I’m going to fuck you so good,” Ian says, yanking my panties down my ass cheeks. Forcing my legs apart with his knee, he stretches his body over mine.

“Condom,” I remind him over my shoulder.

He stills, his heart beating erratically against my back. He doesn’t like that we still use protection, but it’s a nonnegotiable for me, even though I’m on birth control. Not until our wedding night will I give him that part of me with no barriers between us.

Sighing against me, Ian reaches for a condom from the nightstand, keeping me pinned underneath him. Relief trickles through me as he sheathes himself, but it’s short-lived when he forcefully enters me from behind seconds later. The initial burn makes me hiss in discomfort because I’m not wet enough. Not that he notices. And I don’t tell him as he fucks me hard and fast, his hand pressing the side of my face into the mattress, until he fills the condom with his load.

The heat radiating from Ian’s body lures me in, tempting me to stay wrapped up with him under the cozy covers. But my unfinished paper awaits. It takes a lot of willpower to extract myself from his limbs to reach for my phone on the nightstand, but I do so without waking him. The bright screen illuminates the dark room, displaying the time as one in the morning.

Groaning, I tear myself away from the bed and reach for the first item of clothing I can get my hands on—Ian’s shirt from the night before, still carrying the lingering scent of his cologne. After pulling it over my head, I shuffle over to my desk and flick on a small lamp. The soft glow barely illuminates the room but provides enough light for me to see.

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