“I’d go anywhere with you.”
Tracing her smile with a fingertip, he kissed her, his hand in her hair. I really like kissing you, Ivy. The intimacy, the wet, the way her breath became shorter and shorter the longer he did it. I think I’m developing preferences when it comes to tactile contact.
So am I. She splayed her hands on his chest, nails lightly scratching as she ran them down and over the ridges of his abdomen to his navel. Where she began to trace the fine line of hair that led into the partly open fly of his jeans. The touch made him clench his abdominal muscles, break the kiss to look down at the slender gold of her hand against him, air hot on his skin as she inhaled and exhaled in the same jagged rhythm.
As if aware of how the visual affected him, she stroked up with a finger . . . back down. When she reached for the zipper tab, however, he braceleted her wrist with one hand and pulled her away. “After.” The idea of her fingers wrapped around his penis made his spine lock, his thighs taut.
Kissing her again, he ran his thumb over the pulse in her wrist before releasing her hand. Then he reached for the bottom of her sweater. She raised her arms, and the fine blue wool was on the floor seconds later. Her bra was a delicate creation of pale yellow lace. Fascinated by the way it cupped the creamy mounds of her breasts while appearing so fragile, he traced the scalloped edges, dipped his finger underneath just a fraction.
One of her hands rose to grip his wrist, but it wasn’t a hold that asked him to stop.
“From the township by the settlement?” he asked, and continued to touch.
Fingers tightening on his wrist, she nodded. “The humans didn’t see anything wrong with selling it to a Psy.” Her voice was husky on her next question. “Do you like it?”
“Yes.” He decided he’d buy her more. “It appears I have a distinct preference for visual stimulus.” Kissing her collarbone, he said, “I still intend to watch you touch your own body in front of me, but not today. Today I want to be the one doing the touching.”
Ivy shivered again, then pressed an unexpected, wet kiss to his chest before reaching back to unhook the bra. Cupping his hand over the ball of her shoulder, he turned her slowly. Her hands dropped as she granted his silent request. First, he swept her hair to one side to bare her nape, the exposed skin making him want to taste. So he did.
Ivy uttered a hot, sweet sound in response that wrapped around his erection and squeezed . . . and they ended up in the desert.
“Sorry,” he said, the two of them already back in the apartment.
Ivy leaned her back against his chest, and turning her head, rose on tiptoe. He bent toward her automatically, used to the height difference, was rewarded by her lips brushing the side of his jaw. “As long as you don’t stop touching me”—another kiss—“you can take me to the desert and back a thousand times.”
The kisses threatened to distract him, entice him to stay in this position, but he wanted her naked. Shifting back, he reached for the hooks on her bra and undid them after figuring out how they were linked. Ivy curved her shoulders inward as soon as he was done and slid off the straps one at a time, the movement wholly feminine.
He watched the lace drop to the carpet, realized he couldn’t look at her front if he wanted to finish this. “Stay.” Gripping her hips until he was sure she understood, he stepped away to look at the graceful curve of her back, but he couldn’t look and not touch. He ran one hand down the expanse of skin he intended to kiss inch by inch.
“I was overambitious,” he said when she arched toward him. “I don’t think I’ll be able to explore all of you before my control snaps.”
“We can do it again.” A shy, sensual glance back at him before she faced forward once more. “As many times as we like.”
Vasic’s fingers stilled on her skin as he realized the import of her words. Before Ivy, he’d never been given anything he wanted without fighting for it. Most times it had been a stolen moment of peace in a calm place. All with a time limit. This didn’t have one.
His eye fell on the gauntlet.
Forcing his mind away from that darkness and to the pleasure of this instant when he was with a woman who denied him nothing, he ran both hands down her sides and around to her front to flick open the button of her jeans. “Tug down the zipper,” he murmured against her ear, nibbling at the curve of it simply because he wanted to.
Ivy moaned, her body soft and warm in the curve of his as she did as he asked. Then, not waiting for his request, she pushed the jeans down her thighs and to the floor. Releasing her so she could tug off the material, he wrapped one arm around her waist again as soon as she finished the task, the fingers of his other hand exploring the tiny bows of yellow ribbon at the sides of her lace panties. There’d been one on her bra, too, he remembered, in the center.
Tugging at a bow, he was disappointed to discover it was only for show. “I’m going to buy you panties with ribbons that unlace.” He knew such things existed, had seen them in shop windows and on advertising images.
Ivy’s skin turned a silky hot shade that made him want to stroke, kiss, maybe even bite. “You can buy me anything you like,” she whispered, melting back into him. “I’ll wear it.”
Vasic kissed the side of her neck. “You should be careful what you say to a starving man.” Biting at her in playful warning when he hadn’t known until Ivy that he could play, he luxuriated in her moan.
Then, pulse pounding, he slipped his hand around to her navel and under the lace of her panties to cup her flesh. “I read a book,” he said when she jerked. “A sex manual. Actually, I read two, downloaded another three for later.” Arrows always did intensive research, and he’d followed up Judd’s information with further investigation of his own. “I also watched certain recordings.”
“When?” Ivy’s voice was high, shocked.
“While you were asleep.” He read extremely fast, a natural skill augmented by his Arrow training. “One of the manuals said that for women, sexual pleasure is as much in the mind as in the body. It suggested that the male talk during sex.” Vasic didn’t really talk except when he had something to say, but when Ivy whimpered, her body going even more damp against his palm, he decided this was a case where talking wasn’t only warranted, it’d be foolish not to do it. “I like holding you like this.”
Curving his fingers, he cupped her more firmly. “I like feeling you become wetter and hotter and impatient.”
Her hands reached back to grasp at his thighs, her breathing harsh.
“According to the manuals, a woman’s clitoris is extremely sensitive and can be caressed in a number of ways.” Tightening his arm when she rose on her toes as if to escape his touch before pressing back down, he kissed the side of her throat again. “Apparently, there’s also a place inside you that can give you incredible orgasms. I’m determined to find it.”
Breasts plump and flushed, Ivy reached up and back to clench her hand in his hair. “I didn’t know we were supposed to read manuals,” she complained, a little pout to her mouth that made him wish he was in front of her. But that would end this before it began, and there were so many things he wanted to do to and with Ivy.
He tilted the heel of his hand to put pressure on her clitoris. Back bowing, she shuddered. “I’m finding a manual, too,” she gasped when the wave passed, her eyes closed.