My fingers dig into his skin as a feeling of complete satisfaction takes over. The passion between us is so fierce that my muscles are convulsing around his cock way too quickly. I don’t want this to end. I try to slow my impending orgasm, but when he rolls my nipples with his fingers, I can’t hold back any longer. Instead, I just close my eyes and get ready to experience the joy I haven’t felt in so many years.
“Ivy,” he yells out, pounding into me at an unrelenting pace. “Look at me.”
Opening my eyes, I delight in watching him, but I can’t hold it off another minute. Lifting my hips, I grasp hold of his arms and move with him. Leaving no space between us—we come together, shouting each other’s names in unison. When he stops moving, he buries his face in my chest, practically panting. He licks his way up and I can feel his warm breath near my neck and hear his heart pounding against mine. Stepping back slightly, he slips out of me and I feel a sudden, overwhelming loss.
I pull him to me. “Don’t leave.”
He drags his teeth along my jawbone, sending a shiver down my spine. “I’ll be right back,” he says as he pulls me off the desk, and then he goes into the bathroom.
I stand there watching him—the boy who made love to me over and over is now a man that I don’t think I can ever get enough of. The feeling of having him inside me is something I’ve never forgotten, and I never thought I’d feel it again. It’s a feeling I now know I can’t live without. When he comes out of the bathroom, he rakes his eyes down my body in a way that makes my heart skip a beat. I stare at his tattoo as he walks back into the room and grabs the door handle, pulling the slide bar back and letting the door close on its own.
I start laughing uncontrollably, and he looks at me, then does the same.
“It might not have been so hysterical if Garrett had walked in on us,” he says, crossing the room with a confidence that makes my stomach flutter.
I bite my lip and stare into the depths of his eyes as he stands in front of me. Wrapping his arms around me, he inhales a deep breath. He runs his hands down my body and I relish his touch. When he presses his cheek to mine, his soft stubble makes me shiver. His body moves flush with mine, and I brush my fingers down the length of his side, blindly tracing the letters.
“I must be dreaming,” I tell him, leaning back and looking into his intense greenish-brown eyes. My voice is hoarse, but not the least bit weak.
He places his fingers under my chin and lifts it, tilting my face just enough to press his lips to mine. “No, baby, it’s not a dream. This is real.” He plants sweet kisses around my mouth, and his words undo me.
He walks me backward until the backs of my knees are touching the bed. “This time I want to take it slow. I want to make love to you, and I think the bed is a better choice than the desk.”
I open my mouth to agree, but he pushes me back and I fall with a laugh onto the soft mattress, looking up at him. The pulse beating in his throat makes me smile. We stare at each other for the longest time—me lying on the bed, with my feet on the floor, and him standing over me, with the corners of his mouth turned up in the sexiest grin. Then suddenly the mood seems so serious and my laughter stops.
“I missed that smile,” he tells me.
I don’t say anything because I know if I do I’ll just cry again. He could always make me smile—not the fake one I have to put on for the sake of my career—and the mention of everything we once had together swells my heart. He licks his lips and I back up slightly on the bed, inviting him to join me. The mattress dips as he crawls onto it and settles beside me. I trace my finger around his moist, full lips, he smiles, and I whisper, “I’ve missed yours too.”
Tucking his head into my neck, he kisses his way down my body, then rolls us around. We touch, stroke, and lick every inch of each other for what doesn’t seem nearly long enough. Both breathing heavily, we’re tangled in the sheets and he’s hovering over me—his eyes roaming every uncovered inch of my body. The lights are still on and I’m glad, because I want to watch him, see him, make up for all the days that have passed that I never got to see his beautiful face.
He hovers over me and hesitates for a moment. He presses his forehead to mine, and I ask, “What’s wrong?”
“I want to feel you. Really feel you—like I used to.”
I stare at him, knowing what he wants but not sure he wants to hear what I have to say. “Xander, I’m on the pill, but I haven’t been tested since—”
Lifting himself up, he cuts me off. “I’m clean, Ivy.”
“Make love to me,” I answer, giving him the go-ahead not to wear a condom.