Page 9

Dane

The key slides into my penthouse lock, and Ivy's face is priceless. After a week of luxury resort living, most people wouldn't be impressed by a mere apartment. But Ivy isn't most people.

Her eyes widen as we step inside, taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city lights. "This is... wow."

"Wait till you see the rest." I drop our bags, oddly nervous. I've never really cared what anyone thought of my place before. "Tour?"

She nods, following me through the open-concept living area. Her designer's eye catches details I've stopped noticing—the custom millwork, the subtle lighting, the way the space flows.

"The kitchen's barely used," I admit as she runs her hand along the marble island.

"Because you can't cook, or because you're never home?"

"Both? Team nutritionist handles meals during season. Off-season..." I shrug. "Take-out exists for a reason."

"Tragic waste of a Wolf range." But she's smiling, and something in my chest loosens.

The media room gets an appreciative whistle. The gym barely a glance. But when we reach my bedroom, she stops dead.

"This view..." She walks to the windows, city lights painting her skin in soft colors. "You can see the whole skyline."

"Best part? The windows are one-way glass."

She turns, eyebrow raised. "Planning to put on a show?"

"Maybe." I step closer, drawn to her like always. "But only for you. Or with you…?"

Instead of answering, she kisses me.

It’s soft at first. Slow. A question, not a demand. Her fingers slide into my hair, her lips parting just enough for mine to taste the want she’s been holding back.

This time is different. No one’s banging on the door. No one’s pretending. It’s just us, in my bedroom, above a city that doesn’t know or matter. And I’m going to take my time.

I pull her closer, one hand splayed against her back, the other fisting in her shirt before slipping beneath. Her skin is warm, soft, already trembling under my touch. I slide the fabric up, over her head, revealing smooth skin and a sheer lace bra that makes my cock harder.

"God, Ivy."

She breathes a laugh. "Just for you."

I reach behind her and unclasp it slowly, letting the delicate lace fall between us.

Her breasts are bare now, nipples already tight.

My thumbs brush them as I bend, kissing along the curve of one, then the other—tongue circling, teasing, drawing a soft gasp from her lips as she arches into my mouth.

Her hands tug at my shirt, desperate, and I help her strip me down, skin to skin now, heat pulsing between us. I back her toward the bed, kissing her like I’ll never get enough—because I won’t. Ever.

When her knees hit the mattress, I lower her gently onto it, following her down. I kiss her again, slower this time. Then her neck. Her collarbone. Lower. I take my time tasting her, worshipping her with lips and tongue, until she’s panting beneath me, hands fisting in the sheets.

I hook my fingers in the waistband of her leggings and underwear, dragging them down her legs and tossing them aside.

"You’re staring," she says, breathless.

"You’re perfect."

I trail kisses from her ankle up her inner thigh, pausing just before I reach her pussy. Her hips lift in silent plea.

I smile. "Tell me what you want."

Her voice is shaky. "Your mouth. Please."

I settle between her legs, hands gripping her thighs as I lower my mouth to her clit. Her whole body jolts.

"Fuck—Dane—"

I take my time. Slow licks. Gentle sucks. Letting her build and break and build again. She writhes, gasping my name, thighs clamping around my head as I bring her closer, closer—

She cries out, one hand slamming against the headboard, the other tangled in my hair. I watch her fall apart for me and I know—fuck, I’d do anything to keep making her feel this way. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I kiss my way up her body, tasting her skin, her sweat, her pleasure.

"Now," she whispers. "I want you inside me."

I line up, guiding my cock through her slick heat, but don’t push in yet. I look into her eyes.

"Tell me you want me, babe."

She wraps her legs around my hips. "I want you Dane. I want you inside me."

I press in slowly, inch by inch, feeling her stretch around me, feeling every twitch, every gasp, until I’m fully buried.

"Jesus, Ivy. You feel like home.”

She holds me there, both of us breathing hard. Then she rolls her hips.

It starts slow. Deep. Intimate. My forehead pressed to hers, hands entwined above her head, our bodies moving in sync. I kiss her lips, her cheeks, her temple. I whisper things I never thought I’d say.

She flips us without warning, straddling me, taking control. Her nails scrape down my chest as she rides me, slow at first, then faster, chasing her own pleasure.

When she comes again, it’s with a cry that echoes off the glass, her body shaking as she collapses onto me.

But we’re not done.

I roll her onto her stomach, kissing the back of her neck as I lift her hips.

"Dane—"

"Shh. Let me."

I slide back into her from behind, gripping her waist, kissing her shoulder as I thrust slow and deep. She moans into the pillow, back arching, her body matching every movement.

This isn’t about control. It’s about giving her everything.

When I feel her close again, I reach around and circle her clit with my fingers. She shatters with my name on her lips, and I follow, burying myself to the hilt as release slams into me.

We collapse together, tangled and breathless.

Later, watching her drift toward sleep, I can't stop touching her. Small, gentle touches—tracing patterns on her shoulder, playing with her hair.

"Stay," I whisper.

She stirs. "Hmm?"

"Not just tonight. Stay. Move in with me."

Her eyes open fully. "What?"

"I know it's fast. But nothing about us has been normal." I tighten my arms around her. "I sleep better with you. Everything's better with you."

She's quiet for so long I think she's fallen asleep.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes. But I'm redecorating the kitchen."

I laugh, joy bubbling up unexpected and bright. "Deal."