Page 57 of My Sweetest Obsession
Nothing ever could, ever will, make any of this okay.
We both know that.
My lie to her, my betrayal of Drew, all of it lives in that realm of this will never be okay…
There aren’t enough apologies or acts that could make up for it, but I meant what I said to her with every fiber of my being. I may have failed her at every opportunity to do the right thing in the past, but I will be here for her now. For the future. For whatever she needs. Any time, any place, any thing, for as long as she lets me. Even if she continues to hate me.
And I can do this for her now, give her what she needs, even if it destroys me in the process.
I stare up at her, the water sluicing over her swollen breasts and stomach, then sliding down her legs to the tiles where I still kneel—a man ready and willing to worship the only person who has ever truly deserved it.
Ivy’s meltdown wasn’t about shaving.
She’s suffered so much over the last several months, and everything has compounded until she reached this breaking point. Last night was a step in this direction, and I somehow managed to hold her together long enough to get here.
But there isn’t any way to roll it back and pretend none of it happened.
There isn’t enough water to wash away the look she’s giving me or to quench the thirst I have for her.
So, I will do what she wants, even if it’s going to hurt me brutally in the end.
I slide my hands up the inside of her thighs slowly, giving her every chance to end this, to close herself off to me in every way, but instead of doing that, she trembles under my touch, goosebumps breaking out on her skin, despite the hot water and the steam in the air.
Her gaze stays locked with mine as I caress her flesh, relishing the way it moves under my touch, how responsive she is to every scrape of my callouses and sweep of my fingertips.
No matter how badly things have ended up between us, no matter how big the chasm that separates us and makes what I really want impossible, there’s no denying an electric current still sparks between us. So real. So physical. So alive, despite every reason it should have died when she learned the truth.
It ripples through me now as I caress her skin, and Ivy pulls her bottom lip under her teeth, biting down as her hands splay against the tiles in anticipation.
And I can’t make her wait any longer.
Wrapping my hands around her thighs to hold her steady, I dip my head and drag my tongue through her core.
Fuuuuuck.
She groans, her head dropping to the tile with a soft thunk. And I can’t help the rumble of satisfaction that rattles through my chest at the taste of her arousal, at the taste of her coating my tongue and sliding down my throat.
I’ve missed it so fucking much.
I’ve dreamed about it and craved this so badly that it became abundantly clear that Ivy truly is a drug to me.
Since the moment I got my first taste of her that night in the garden, I was violently addicted.
Willing to do anything to get my next fix.
Unable to shake the driving need to taste color again and let it infect my world.
Kissing her lips tasted like red, and licking her cunt is like having the entire fucking rainbow flashing across my eyes for the first time since I was a child.
My achingly hard cock strains against my zipper, throbbing and pulsing because it would be impossible not to want to be inside her right now. With my face buried between her thighs and my tongue deep in her cunt, the memory of driving into her, of having her come apart around me, is almost too much to bear.
But I will never make this about me.
Never again.
It’s about what Ivy needs.
Release.
