Page 118 of At First Dance
“Oh, baby girl, you’re about to unleash a wild man,” he says, sliding all the way out and plunging back in my sex. “Too many days I’ve gone without you.”
He persists with the achingly slow thrusts, driving me completely mad. My head whips back and forth on the quilt as his fingers join his cock between my legs, rubbing my clit.
“Am I driving you mad, Ivy? Just like I’ve been going mad since the day I met you.”
“Insane. I need more.”
“Beg me for it. Get on your hands and knees and beg me to fuck you hard enough to lose control.”
Rowan slips out of me, and I scramble onto my hands and knees, ass facing him, then look over my shoulder with my hair cascading over the opposite.
“Please fuck me. I want to feel you everywhere. I need to.”
His calloused palm runs across the globe of my ass before dipping between my legs. I watch in fiery fascination as he lifts the now drenched fingers to his mouth and licks them clean.
God, I’m about to come from just watching him do that.
“Fuck, you taste good,” he tells me, aligning his cock with my entrance, gripping my hips with his big hands. “But you feel even better. Your pussy was made for me, Ivy. Now, hold on,” he demands, and my hands fist at the quilt before he drives into my sex.
It’s a harried pace with no rhythm, but it’s exactly what the two of us need. My body rocks back to meet each of his thrusts.
“Give me your wrists,” Rowan barks, and without missing a beat, he hauls me back against his chest, gripping my wrists in one of his massive hands while the other reaches around and squeezes one of my breasts.
“You feel so good,” I moan as he licks and nips at the side of my neck while his cock sinks farther into my channel. “I’m so close. Don’t stop.”
“That’s it, baby girl, come for me,” he rumbles, and we both shatter.
We stay tangled together long after the rush fades, our bodies slick with sweat and breaths gradually slowing. My head rests against his shoulder, and Rowan’s arm wraps tight aroundmy waist like he’s anchoring us both in place. Like he can’t let me go.
I shift slightly, brushing my fingers along the curve of his jaw, feeling the short, scratchy stubble and the slow exhale of his breath against my temple.
“I needed that,” I murmur.
His laugh is low, almost shy. “Yeah. Me too.”
Silence stretches—warm, humming—until the obvious slides between us and sits down.
“Rowan,” I say, barely above a whisper. “We didn’t use anything.”
He stills. Then his arm tightens around my waist like I might float away. “I know,” he says, voice rough. “I got… lost in you. That’s not an excuse. I should’ve—” He breaks off, forehead tipping to mine. “Are you okay?”
“I’m covered,” I tell him, steady. “I have an IUD.” I feel him breathe out a small, honest relief. “But I still want us to be smart.”
“Yeah,” he says immediately. “Tomorrow, I’ll go get tested. Not because I don’t trust you—but because I want to do this right.” He searches my face. “And I haven’t… since before all the PR noise. It’s been a long time.”
“Same,” I say, the word easier than I expected.
He nods once, like that answers a question he hasn’t let himself ask. His thumb drifts over my hip. “I’ll pick up some condoms. Keep them where I can’t forget what matters when you look at me like that. It will be your choice, always.”
I huff a breath that’s almost a laugh. “You mean like you’re mine?”
His mouth curves. “Already am.”
Something tender lodges under my ribs. I press a kiss to the corner of his mouth—soft and grateful. “Thank you. For not making it weird. For choosing the careful thing with me.”
“I want the long thing,” he says simply. “If that means patience and errands and doing this like grown-ups, then I’m in.”
The string lights hum. The loft holds. I curl closer, palm over his heart, and let the truth stop being scary. “Me too,” I whisper into the space between us. “All the way in.”
