Page 27 of Who Pissed Off Ivy Dell?

“You didn’t destroy anything. I don’t know if you found any of the answers you needed, but I am so damn glad you found me.”

“Me, too. Even if you were a jerk.”

“I lit your fireplace.”

“You had ulterior motives.”

“So did you.”

“You totally took advantage of me with your snowy kisses and bare chest.”

“You intentionally seduced me with your little half sweater and tight leggings.”

“But you kissed me first.”

“You kissed me back.”

“Kiss me now.”

My mouth closes on hers, and my hand drifts lower on her body. She parts her legs as soon as my fingers slide between them. Her pussy is soft and warm, so wet and tight, drawing my fingers inside. She relaxes under the stars, and my thumb circles her clit while her tongue dances with mine.

Mine.

When her pleasure peaks and her eyes flutter behind their lids while her spine arches and the tiny quakes of her muscles reverberate on my hand, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced. It’s not an unfamiliar moment, but the full moon and all the scents and sounds of the desert night enhance it, make it unlike any other.

I needed to give her this, something uniquely ours, but just as much, I needed to take it for myself. She sighs and buries her face in my shoulder. I slide my fingers slowly in and out of her as she recovers, ready to get her off a second time as soon as she’s ready to go.

“I don’t think I can come again,” she whispers.

“We’re not leaving until you do.”

“Who said I wanted to leave? Unzip your pants.”

“Not yet. I brought you out here so I could enjoy your naked body.”

“I think you might enjoy the way I was planning to use it.”

“I’m sure I would, but I haven’t figured out where your tattoo should go yet.”

“Oh, yeah.”

I sit up. “Lay face-down across my lap.”

Surprisingly, she does it with no arguing or bargaining. I draw tiny circles to tickle behind her knee, and her legs bends like it’s spring-loaded, capturing my fingers. When she straightens it again, I draw a heart.

The corner of her smile is visible through the section of her hair that’s fallen across her face. It’s not fiery like when sunlight hits it, but it shines for the moon, too. My hand roams up the back of her thigh, squeezing just below the curve over her butt cheek to watch it swell.

I rub over her firm, rounded ass, and I can’t resist the urge to spank it a few times. She draws a quick breath at the first slap and holds it, and the sudden silence around us feels like the whole desert follows her lead.

The wind blows over her back, prompting her exhale. I caress the warmth under my hand, and wonder if I’ve turned her skin red as the crickets start to sing again. My palm glides to the small of her back. Her hips rock, encouraging me to massage her there. When I rub this spot at her lower back, I imagine my hand there, guiding her into a room full of people. Announcing to them all that she is with me. She’s mine.

I continue to massage as my hand moves up her back and to her shoulders.

“Roll over.”

She looks up at the stars, her eyes shimmering. My hand massages her tits, my thumb brushing over each nipple in turn. Looking over her blank canvas body, I wonder what she’ll get if she decides to go through with the tattoo.

The dip just inside her hipbones is one of my favorite spots to kiss. My mouth can’t reach it from here, but I kiss the pads of my fingers that were inside her minutes ago, and then press them to the spot to transfer the kiss to her skin. “Right here,” I say.

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