Page 95 of Training the Heart

“That was a dirty little trick. You’re going to be begging for relief from the way I stretch your sweet cunt now,” I say as her tits find their way to my mouth. I pull each of them in, begging her tight channel to allow me into a space we both know I’m always too big for as I slam into her from below. Her pussy tightens and she feels so docile and small in my arms.

“Please, Wade … so full …” she moans.

Fuck yeah, she is. She’s full to the hilt and I love when she is, more than I’ve ever loved anything else. I give myself just a moment, just to feel her, to take one second before I let myself really ravage her.

I’d sell my soul to the devil himself to live inside her forever.

I slip her off of me, flipping her over so she waits on her knees for me. Pushing my hat off her head, I grip a fistful of her hair and hike her hips up, taught to meet my cock as I slide my hands down over the globes of her beautiful ass.

“Grab the headboard, Ivy, and you better hold it, really fucking tight,” I warn her.

She moans and does what she’s told, gripping tightly to it. The moment she does, I start to fuck.

I don’t hold back—after her little show, I can’t, I don’t have the strength. I drive myself into her tight little pussy from behind her as she white-knuckles the wood. My headboard rocks into the wall as I fuck into Ivy, holding her body tight to me as she moans and whimpers while I take what I want, what I need, what’smine.

The only sounds in this room are the growls that escape my chest out of desperation for her, our skin slapping together and her sweet gasps of pleasure. My hand curls up around Ivy’s throat from behind, her custom collar locked in place as I continue fucking her, hard. I pull her back up to my front, turning her face. I press my mouth to hers as I feel her pussy close in around me and she begins to quake after only a few passing minutes.

“Wade … I’m going to …” she whines.Already, I love it.

“Nah, baby, you’re going to come slowly,” I tell her. I want to draw her pleasure out, to savor her and every single second inside her.

I rotate my hips slowly, letting her feel every single stroke as I move in and out of her. Every cell, every single atom of our joined bodies. Ivy’s moans become deep and throaty as her nails bite into the sides of my thighs, a wickedness in her movements that saysyou can hurt me as long as I can hurt you. But it only makes my dick harder, bringing me closer to my high with every gnash of her nails against my skin. My balls tighten, as I slam inside her again and again.

“Come now, Wade, and baby, tell me that you’re mine when you do.” She moans her last words, and holy fuck, I’m coming, hard. My grip around her slender, biteable neck deepens as I kiss her. I’m in a never-ending spiral, my release reaches out from every corner of my body, centering through me in slow motion as I hover on the edge of kissing her and choking her, her nails digging deeper into me with every wave that consumes us.

“Holy fucking Christ, Ivy. I’m entirely fucking yours,” I groan into her just as her eyes roll back and shut. I loosen my hand on her throat, letting her inhale.

Our breathing is synchronized as we come down from our high like we just ran a marathon together.

Ivy leans fully back against me, her head settling under myjaw. A buzzing euphoria washes over me. I have no idea how long I stay inside her, still. Moments? Minutes?

The softness of her. This feeling. This warmth.

“Wade?” Ivy asks, breaking the trance I’m floating in.

I open my eyes and look down at her perfect, flushed face as she tilts it up to me.

“Yes?”

“Was my dinner in those grocery bags you dropped?”

I drop my head to her cheek and kiss it. “Yes, Trouble, I just have to make it.”

“Okay, I’m kind of hungry now, can we eat?”

I chuckle into her shoulder.

Anything you want, baby.

By the time I’ve almost finished creating a meal that would challenge Bobby Flay, still half surviving on the euphoria of her, Ivy’s showered and is curled up on the couch blankets up to her cute little chin, her hair the only real visible part of her I see as I grate fresh parmesan onto our manicotti. When I’m done, I take the final swill of bourbon from my glass and put my earbuds back in their case.

I talk away to her as I make my way into the living room juggling our plates, napkins and cutlery. “Are you planning on sitting up, sweetheart?” I ask her.

It’s when I round the corner of the sofa that I fully see her. Blankets up under her chin, the most relaxed and beautiful look on her face. Ivy is completely out cold before we’ve even had dinner. Her lips are parted and she’s breathing softly, like a little sleeping angel. I set the plates down on the coffee table and dropto the chair across from her, just to stare at her for a few seconds before I wake her to eat. The reality settles with me that’s been staring me in the face this whole time.

Whether Sam comes back or not, I’m making a place for Ivy here—any job, any task she wants. Hell, if she asked me to quit running the ranch so she could do it I would. Anything to keep her nestled into my sofa just like this every night when I come home.

Before Ivy, I was only existing day to day, going through the motions. I wasn’t living; she’s my missing piece. There’s nothing more I could ever possibly want or need than these simple moments with her. A life with her. Ivy’s weaved her way into the threads of my heart; she’s been training it this whole time without me even realizing it. To love again, to take a chance. To believe in a future, a future with her, however that looks. One where I let myself be happy and I’m not afraid to let her love me back.

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