Page 26 of Unwrapped

She takes a sip, closing her eyes for a moment as the warmth of the chocolate hits her. “Okay, I’ll admit it. This is really good.”

“You know,” I murmur, my voice low and rough with the weight of everything I’m feeling, “I can’t stop thinking about that kiss,” I admit, knowing I’m pushing my luck.

Her breath hitches, and her eyes darken just a bit, her lips parting. “Me either.”

That’s all the permission I need. In one smooth motion, I close the distance between us, my mouth capturing hers again, but this time, there’s no hesitation. I pull her flush against me, deepening the kiss as my hands move up her back, drawing her closer until there’s nothing between us but the heat that’s been building all night.

Ivy responds instantly, her fingers sliding into my hair, tugging just enough to send a spark of heat shooting down my spine. Her lips move against mine, confident now, as if we’ve both been holding back since we left the market, and now that it’s here, we’re not holding back. The kiss turns hungry, the tension snapping like a rubber band that’s been pulled too tight for too long.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathless, her hands still tangled in my hair, my arms wrapped tightly around her. Our foreheads rest against each other, the air between us thick with something undeniable.

“This,” I whisper, my voice husky with desire, “feels like a lot more than just a silly tradition.”

She smiles, a slow, wicked smile that makes my pulse quicken. “You’re right about that.”

Without another word, I lift her onto the counter, stepping between her legs as I lean in for another kiss, harder this time, more certain. The tension that’s been building between us allnight finally breaks, and I know that whatever this is, it’s just the beginning.

Ivy’s hands tighten in my hair, her body pressing against my cock. The kiss deepens, the rhythm of it changing, no longer tentative but filled with a kind of urgency that matches the pulse in my chest. I grip her waist, feeling the warmth of her body seeping through my fingers as I pull her even closer. Her hips move slightly against me, her body begging for some friction between her thighs.

She lets out a soft, breathy sound that drives me wild, and I can’t help but slip my hands up under her sweater, feeling the soft skin beneath. Her breath hitches at the touch, and when she pulls back to look at me, her eyes are dark, her pupils wide with desire. There’s something raw between us now, like we’ve both stopped pretending this was just a casual evening.

I lean in again, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, trailing down the side of her neck, feeling her pulse quicken under my lips. She tilts her head back, giving me more access, her hands sliding down to grip my shoulders, anchoring herself as she shivers from my touch. I can feel the heat rising between us, the kind of heat that makes me forget about everything else—the cold, the snow, the world outside.

I pull back just enough to look at her, my hands resting on her hips as I catch my breath. “Ivy,” I murmur, “if you don’t want me to strip you naked and spend the next several hours tasting every fucking inch of you, you need to tell me no right now. You understand me?”

Her eyes search mine, and for a second, I see the flicker of uncertainty, but it fades just as quickly as it came. Her answer is clear in the way her hands tighten around me, pulling me closer.

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice steady despite the shaky breath that follows. “Take me, Asher.”

That’s all I need. My lips crash against hers again, more urgent this time, more intense. Her hands roam over my chest, then down, tugging at my shirt as if she’s just as desperate for more as I am. I don’t hesitate, lifting her off the counter and carrying her toward the couch. Her laughter fills the space between kisses, a light sound that only fuels the fire.

I set her down gently, then join her on the couch, leaning over her as my hands find her waist again. Ivy pulls me down on top of her, her lips never leaving mine as she shifts beneath me, her legs tangling with mine. The kiss becomes more heated, more demanding, and I can feel the last traces of control slipping away as I lose myself in her.

“I need a taste,” I say between kisses as I trail my lips down her neck, lifting her sweater up and over her head in a rush.

Her laughter is gone, along with any trace of the lighthearted conversation from earlier. Her body arches beneath me, her hands in my hair as I slide her skirt up her thighs, running my nose and lips against the tights she’s wearing. My fingers reach the waistband of them and her panties and I instantly pull them down, tossing them to the side.

She intakes a sharp breath when my fingers touch her bare skin, gliding up gently as I press her thighs apart.

“Let me taste you,” I say gently, leaning in, my mouth already watering at the sight of her pink, glistening pussy that’s begging for my tongue to swipe right up the center.

“Ohhh.” Her moan is deeper, her thighs spreading on their own, her hands tightening in my hair as I take my time swirling, tasting, and savoring every drop of her.

“Asher.” My name comes out as a cry when her orgasm reaches her. She pants, moaning and writhing against my tongue in a way that will be burned into my brain. Her flavor sends a possessive jolt through me, like her flavor was made for me.

But there’s something else in this, too. It’s not just the desire, though that’s impossible to ignore; it’s the way her touch feels like it’s lighting me up from the inside, like every kiss, every glance is stoking something deeper. Something I didn’t realize I’d been waiting for.

When I finally climb back over her, I wrap my hand around her jaw, holding her steady while I dip my tongue into her mouth, making her taste her release on my tongue. I break the kiss, my forehead resting against hers as we both catch our breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath me. Her eyes flutter open, and when she meets my gaze, there’s no hesitation left in them. Just her, fully in this moment with me.

“More, I need more.” Her hands are on my belt, undoing it followed by my zipper.

“You’re sure?” I ask, my voice low, rough with need but tinged with the last thread of restraint I’m holding on to.

She nods, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw with one hand, her other sliding beneath my waistband and wrapping tightly around my cock, making me groan.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Those words hit me like a shot of adrenaline, and I lean down to kiss her again, softer this time, savoring the way she melts into it. I can feel her hands roaming over me, pulling me closer, and I’m lost in the sensation of her—her warmth.

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