Wicked (A Wicked Saga #1)(68)
Author: J. Lynn

Swallowing hard, I had to catch my breath. "No."

He was below my belly button, trailing a new path of kisses, and my fingers slipped from his hair. He gripped the sides of my panties as his gaze flicked up to mine, his green eyes deepening to a forest green and full of wicked fire. "It made me so fucking hot for you. I couldn’t help myself. I had to kiss you—touch you." His voice sharpened. "Lift up."

With my brain somewhere in la-la land, my body was on autopilot. My hips lifted, and Ren cursed swiftly as he tugged my panties off. "God, you’re fucking beautiful." He placed his hand between my thighs. "Everywhere."

Ren lowered his head, dropping his mouth to the tattoo on the inside of my hip. He traced the lines with his tongue, and I felt every stroke all the way to my core. Then he kissed the insides of each of my thighs, moving closer and closer. Self-conscious and unnerved by the intensity of the feelings growing inside me, I tried to close my legs, to scoot back, but his hands clamped down on my hips. He lifted them, and my pulse skyrocketed.

His eyes met mine for a second and he said, "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you."

Then he kissed me in a way I’ve never been kissed before. My chest heaved as he parted me, and he drew every moan, every whimper, and every cry with each lap of his tongue. I didn’t know if I could take it. The tension built to a point that was almost painful.

I reached for him, to either push him away or pull him closer, I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t get the chance. He let go of my hips, catching my wrists and holding them against my belly with just one hand. I could barely breathe as he grinned and slipped one finger inside me.

Body jerking, my fingers curled helplessly. "Ren."

"You like that, don’t you?" His breath brushed the damp curls between my legs. "More?"

I nodded.

"Say it, Ivy."

God, seriously? His hand stilled. He was totally being serious. "More," I gasped out.

That smile was pure sin as he worked another finger in. "How about that?"

The pressure increased, but then he hooked his fingers slightly, and a strangled sound came out of me as I angled my hips.

"Ah, that’s the spot, right?" He sounded proud, smug as he worked with an ease that was actually impressive. "I want to hear you scream my name when you come. Remember that."

I didn’t think I’d ever screamed a name, but then his mouth clamped down on the bundle of nerves. Mind blown, I was a writhing heap on the mattress, my hips shamelessly thrusting up to meet what he was doing. My head thrashed as he pressed against a spot deep inside me and sucked on the tiny piece of flesh that seemed to become the epicenter of everything.

The tension inside me snapped, and I did scream his name as release powered through me, starting from my core and radiating out to the tips of my toes and my fingers. I was shaken and panting, his name echoing over and over in my head even as he slowly eased his fingers out of me.

He got up and I could see the bulge in his pajama pants. Caught up in the pleasure he gave me, I met him halfway, gripping his hips as I found his mouth and kissed him. Tasting myself on him, I think I might’ve been a little drunk on pleasure, a little out of control with the idea of giving him what he’d just given me.

He groaned into my mouth, and my heart pounded as I balled the material of his sleep pants in my hands and dragged them down his lean hips, stopping just below his belly. "Ivy, what—?"

Freeing him, I wrapped one hand around the thick, hard base. His hips jerked and he rasped out, "Fuck, Ivy." He stared down at me, his eyes hooded, his taut stomach rippling with tremors. "You want to do this? You sure?"

Instead of answering, I showed him. Dragging my hand up his length, I reveled in the way his back arched.

"Damn, girl. I didn’t do that for this."

Finding my voice, I tightened my grip on him. "I want to do this."

He groaned as I stroked him with my hand. "Move back," he ordered in a gruff voice. "Against the headboard."

I scooted until my back was against the wooden frame, and he moved, placing his knees on either side of my hips. His body caged me in. One hand landed on the headboard behind me and the other curved around the nape of my neck.

I’d done this a handful of times before with Shaun, but that had been so long ago, and it seemed like nothing compared to this. Ren was a man, and Shaun . . . well, he never got the chance to become one.

Pushing those troubling thoughts aside, I kissed him like he kissed me, and at the first taste of him, Ren’s hips moved and the hand on my neck tightened. He made a deep guttural sound that told me that even though I was sure there were a whole lot of chicks that could do this better than me, he was right there with me.

I drew him in as deep as I could, and though his body shook, he was careful as he rocked his hips in short, quick motions, holding back even as I found my rhythm. "God, Ivy, you sweet, sweet thing," he groaned. "I can’t take . . ."

Ren tried to pull away, but I was latched on to him, and he shouted my name as he came, his large body shuddering as his release rolled through him. I stayed with him until his body arched and he slipped out of my hand and mouth. He kneeled in, capturing my head and tilting it back, kissing me deeply despite what we’d just shared, and he didn’t stop as he shifted off of me, dragging me down beside him.

Ren gathered me close, tucking me to his side as he rolled onto his back, his arm furthest from me thrown over his face. All I could see was his warm, sated smile.

His curls were mussed from sleep, adorably disheveled from what we’d just done as he turned his head to me. "Can I keep you?"

My heart skipped, and the first thought that flounced into my head was that I wanted to be kept by him.

I stiffened and my skin chilled like icy water had been doused over my head. The pleasure that I’d been given—that I’d given—cleared, and as I lay burrowed close to Ren, the most horrible thought crossed my mind.

How could I go back to what life was like before Ren when I lost him? Not if, but when, because I would lose him eventually. That was how things worked for me. I loved and I lost, and I cut off that train wreck of a thought before it could become something more, something entirely too powerful.

"Hey," he murmured softly.

My heart was pounding in my chest again, but for different reasons. Nausea turned my stomach. Back before I lost my family and Shaun, I hadn’t thought my days with them were numbered. It hadn’t crossed my mind, but things were different now, because our days were not infinite, they were most likely numbered down to one day.