When she hooks her thumbs into her matching pink lacey underwear, I chew my bottom lip. Fuck, do I look like a pervert if I do this? When I was eighteen it sounded hot—now I’m not so sure. But I want to do it in the worst way. No, what I want in the worst way is for her hands to be my hands, but I’m not giving in. I’m not fucking her when she’s married to him—I won’t be the other guy.
Her eyes close and she strokes and tweaks her nipples. I can see them harden and my cock grows harder with each passing second. The room is so quiet, I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. “Use your thumbs,” I tell her, and her eyes open but remain hooded. She smiles and does as I tell her. I’m almost panting at the sight. “Lie down,” I direct her. But she doesn’t do it right away. Instead she slides her panties off and her whole body flushes everywhere. Once she’s naked, then she lies on the bed. Her head rests on a stack of pillows and my body molds into the mattress. When she spreads her legs and lifts her hips, I want so badly to be the one to fill her that I have to close my eyes.
“Xander.” She calls my name, and my eyes fly open just in time to see her hand cup her *. She runs her fingers through her folds and all my muscles clench with need. It’s an urgency unlike I’ve ever felt before—it’s a need for her.
Her hands continue to move. Fuck, she’s really going to do this. I have two choices: enjoy it or leave and endure the torture of wishing I’d stayed. It’s an easy choice. I unhook the button on my jeans and shove them down just enough to free my cock. I kick them the rest of the way off, then whisper, “Are you wet?” and she lets out a small whimper while nodding her head.
She presses the heel of her palm against her clit and then I watch as her fingers circle it over and over. I start stroking myself; concentrating on the fact that it’s her hands, not mine, bringing me closer to exploding. I bite down on my lip and let my head tip back as I feel the intensity of her stare on me and the sounds of her rapid breathing. Once I start and I know she’s watching I don’t stop. I’m doing this for her, for me, for us. Stroking myself, I push my hips forward and thrust my cock into my closed fist.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“More than okay.”
“Talk to me. Tell me what you like me to do to you and then do it.”
“I want your fingers inside me,” she says shakily.
“Inside you where?” I ask, stroking myself faster. Pumping in and out, wishing it was her I was thrusting into.
“I can’t say it,” she says.
I grunt at the sound of her voice. The innocence in it and the thought that she’s doing this with me almost sends me over the edge.
“Add another finger,” I tell her. “Then with your other hand rub circles around your clit, massage it. Find the spot and when you do, pretend my tongue is on it.”
“Oh, Xander,” she moans and lifts her hips, pressing her heels into the mattress. Watching her fall apart makes me come hard with a shuddering release. After a few seconds, she collapses to the bed, and I do the same.
“I need to jump in the shower, alone,” I tell her and she nods at me.
Just as I hit the threshold, she purrs, “Thank you.”
I turn around. “You never have to thank me for that.” I grin.
When I get out of the shower I throw a pair of sweatpants on and head back into the bedroom. She’s back in my T-shirt, under the covers and half asleep. I climb in beside her and find her hand, lacing my fingers in hers and pulling her against me, my front to her back.
I hear her give a sigh of contentment.
I squeeze her tight.
“Good night, Xander. I love you,” she says.
Leaning over, I whisper into her ear. “Good night, baby. I love you.”
I allow myself a soft, sweet kiss to her cheek and slide my mouth to her lips before throwing my body back on the mattress. I close my eyes knowing she knows I’m right—us being together before her ties with him are severed will just muddy up the relationship that we’ve worked really hard at. But knowing this doesn’t make any of it any easier.
? ? ?
Fingers creep across the pillow and push my hair away. I open my eyes to peer into her beautiful ones. “Good morning.” I grin.
“Good morning.” She smiles, inching closer to me.
I glance at the digits on the old clock radio on my nightstand and hop out of bed.
“Where are you going?” she calls softly, her sleepy eyes gleaming.
“I’m going to take a shower.”
“No, don’t go yet. Come back to bed,” she says, rolling over onto her stomach and rising on her elbows.
“I can’t. When I lie next to you like that, all I can think about is being inside you. I need to take care of the Damon situation.”
She rolls back over and tosses the pillows off the bed. “I’m going to have to touch myself again. Aren’t I?”
“Fuck, Ivy. Don’t talk like that. The shower can’t get cold enough for me already.”
“You could let your crazy thoughts go and spend the day in bed with me.”
“Ivy, stop. Please.”
“Xander, his father is being buried today. My attorney said he’d take care of it as soon as he could.”
I look at her. “Ivy, I’ll take care of it much sooner. I can promise you that.”