Page 75 of Unravel Me

His hips jerk forward and I don’t waste any more time before taking him all the way to the back of my throat. I keep him there for a moment, trying to take him deeper, before sucking all the way back up and repeating the motion. His hand moves to the back of my head, just resting there, allowing me to do all the work. I suck him hard, taking him as deep as I can go and gagging around his thick length. Tears spill from my eyes, but his moans are all I need to keep going. Wetness pools between my legs, and even though I just came minutes ago, my core aches to be filled with him again. I moan around him and he thrusts his hips up, forcing him impossibly deep. I pull back and grip his length tighter with my hand, working my mouth and fist in tandem, up and down.

“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so well. Fuck, that feels so good.”

His hips move of their own accord, thrusting and pushing his cock down my throat further. I hum around him in appreciation. I love being able to make him lose control like this.

“Fuck, yeah. Don’t stop. So fucking good, Ivy.”

I reach my other hand around to grab his balls, rolling them gently in my hand and stroking the soft skin behind them.

“Ohhhh Fuuuuuuuuuck. Ivy, I’m coming!”

He explodes, his hips quake as he stills completely, his cock pulsing in my mouth as ropes of cum shoot down my throat. I suck him hard, milking every bit from him, and pulling off of him with a pop, loving the taste.

I sit up on my knees next to him, his cock softening against his abdomen. I wipe my fingers across my lips and smile widely.

“Need me to wipe that smug look off of your face, baby?”

He grabs me around the waist, hauling me next to him, our naked bodies sated for now. He tucks me in tightly to him, wrapping his arms completely around me, my head resting on his muscular bicep.

“It’s different from what I remembered.”

“Well, we’re not teenagers anymore,” I say with a little laugh. He swats at my ass before returning to hold me close, his fingers rubbing lightly up and down my back, goosebumps trailing in the wake.

“That’s not what I mean. It’s always been intense, more than sex with you. But now? I still feel like I’m on borrowed time, Iv. Like I need to savor every second and it’s still not enough.”

I look up at him, my fingers tracing the features of his face, committing them to memory. His blue eyes have slowly come back to life but the fear of losing me is still there. I gently lay a kiss to his swollen lips, closing my eyes and breathing him in.

“I’m not leaving,” I say with as much conviction as I can muster. My mother’s voice no longer a lingering presence in my head.

“I never should have run, Sawyer. I knew it the moment I left, but I was so confused. It still hurts to think about my mom.”

“Does it hurt to lay here with me knowing it’s not what she wanted for you?”

“No,” I answer without hesitation. “The moment you showed up at my parents’ house and scooped me up into your arms, I was home. I’ve been floating around the last ten years, unhappyand unsure, lost. Seeing you? Being in Aspen Ridge? It grounded me. My mom thought she knew what would make me happy because of her fear, and I know she loved me so much, Sawyer, but the dreams she had for herself aren’t my own.”

“What are yours?” His fingers are still sliding up and down my back, bringing me so much comfort from just his touch.

“This. Going to the Culinary Institute was the right choice, but I know now you would have supported me and we would have figured it out. But this?” I wave my hand between the small space between us. “This is my dream. A life with you, Aspen Ridge, Grace Beach, the overcast skies and mountain air, a lot of babies, cooking.”

“I want to give you all of that, Ivy. I always have. I love you. I’ve never stopped. Not for a moment.”

“I love you too.”

He rolls me onto my back and my legs spread wide for him.

“How about we work on that baby part? And then after we go to Grace Beach and try again there.”

He makes good on his promise. He takes me once more in the bed, again in his arms, shortly after with my back against the tile of his shower, and twice more later in the day bent over a cold, dead piece of driftwood with nothing but the waves crashing and birds chirping around us.

“You ready for this? It’s gonna be a madhouse, you remember, right?”

“Oh, I remember. The five of you? Plus whatever friends you all would bring. Your poor mother. She’s a saint.”

“She is. How are you feeling?” His eyes dance over my face, looking for any clue of panic. His concern isn’t misplaced. While his siblings have been nothing but welcoming, I have yet to see his mom. I’m filled with nerves but not panic. My memories of his mother have been carefully preserved. I wouldn’t allow myself to envision the hatred she could hold for me for how badly I destroyed her child. She was a second mother to me. Sometimes my only mother when mine was too depressed to get out of bed. I’ve missed her warmth, her smile, and her love. This is the last hurdle for me to get over. After everything I’ve been through, I know it won’t break me if she’s cold, it’s justified. Part of me welcomes it. Sawyer accepted me back as if I hadn’t ripped his heart out in the most brutal way. I haven’t paid any penance and I anticipate it; it’s deserved.

I put on a pair of dark denim jeans and pair them with a white pocket tee and my favorite pair of brown booties. I braid my long hair off to the side so that the wind doesn’t completely destroy it on the back of Sawyer’s bike, and add minimal makeup. I’m looking in the mirror, giving myself a silent pep talk when Sawyer walks into the bathroom behind me.

“Hi, butterfly.”

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