Long legs lock around my waist, her nails digging into my shoulders. When she sinks her teeth into the soft flesh at the crook of my neck, my body seizes, and I’m coming on a strangled cry. Ivy strains against my hips, gasping, her pussy milking me with rhythmic pulses that have me pushing as deep into her as I can get.

I collapse against her, weak-kneed and head spinning. Her arms come around my shoulders, limply holding on. We’re both panting hard, my open mouth pressed in the folds of her shirt that’s gathered high on her neck. Taking a breath, I manage a random, “Like your shirt.”

Ivy’s laugh is weak. “Thanks. I was totally going for a ‘gimme a hot and dirty quickie’ look.”

“Glad to oblige.” I smile, kiss the edge of her jaw. Gently I detangle her from the shirt, pulling it free and throwing it aside. Ivy takes my shirt off as well, and I settle back, loving the feel of her skin against mine. A few more awkward wiggles and I’m out of my sneakers and jeans. But my softening cock stays deep inside her. I don’t want to leave her heat. Ever.

Somehow we’ve ended up on the floor. I frown, not even remembering tumbling. “Are you okay?” I ask, touching her cheek. The fact that she’s pregnant comes back to me in a rush, and I go cold. “Shit. I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“No.” She smiles. “You were perfect.” Her fingers thread through my sweaty hair. “You always are.”

“You sure? I had this whole slow-seduction thing planned, but you looked so hot, and I’ve been dying for you, and—”

“Kiss me, Cupcake,” she says, tugging on my hair.

So I do. I kiss her softly, stroking the edge of her jaw with my fingertips. I kiss her as I carry her to the bedroom. I kiss her as I lie beside her, gathering her close, until we’re skin to skin. This is what I needed, the scent and feel and taste of Ivy all around me. The tightness in my chest eases.

Never am I more aware of my size than when I’m touching Ivy, of how my hands span the sides of her head, of how fragile yet necessary she feels to me. “Ivy Mac,” I whisper, brushing my lips over hers. I hold her in my grasp as I come at her mouth again, sipping at her lips, tilting my head to experience her from a new angle.

Her hands slide over my back, stroking, urging me closer. We kiss with lazy slowness, learning each other’s mouths over and over, until our lips are swollen, and my jaw is sore. But I don’t stop. My head is spinning, my cock a hot slab between our pressed bellies. It would be so easy to spread her legs wide and sink in deep, fuck her again. But I hold back, enjoy this simple act. It sharpens everything, sends my body into hyperawareness.

Our breaths mingle, the edges of our lips just touching. My tongue flicks over hers, a tease that I feel in my balls. Sweat covers my skin and hers, makes me shiver. Yet I’m so hot, so drugged on her mouth, I can barely breathe.

Ivy moans a little, her hips rocking slightly. I know she wants to be filled, but she doesn’t push it either, just holds onto my neck like it’s her anchor and suckles my lip, slides her warm, slick tongue over mine.

My breath hitches. It’s a struggle not to roll her over, not to go wild and thrust my tongue as deep as it can get into her mouth. I want those things. Yet this self-inflicted torture feels so good, I’m close to coming. Just from kissing Ivy.

And it does something to me, makes my gut clench and my heart pound. I reach up, find her hand that’s burrowed beneath my pillow. Our fingers twine and my thumb presses against cool metal. Ivy’s wearing my ring.

Mine. She. Is. Mine.

“Ivy.” My thigh slides between hers, intent on parting them. But her hand grasps my shoulder, and she gives me a nudge. I let her ease me onto my back. “What are you up to?” I murmur as she crawls over me, nuzzling her way down my neck.

Her voice is warm honey over my skin. “Let me take care of you for a while.”

I’ve had sex more times than I want to think about. Girls have gone down on me, done all they can to impress me. But take care of me? Kiss their way around my body like it’s some divine experience? Never. Not like Ivy.

My hands shake a little as I touch Ivy’s hair, pushing it back so I can see her face. “Hey,” I whisper. “Turn around, so I can take care of you too.” This I know. I want to taste her, lose myself in making her feel good.

But she shakes her head, her hands gliding down my sides. “Not now. This is for you.”

Glossy brown hair slides over my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Throat tight, I glance down, take in the sheen of her skin, those long, lean thighs, the way her tits sway as she moves. So damn beautiful. The tightness in my throat becomes a lump, and I swallow hard, draw in an unsteady breath. “Mac.”

At the sound of my voice, she lifts her head, her eyes meeting mine. I blink rapidly, my heart pushing against my ribs. And she smiles, a soft curving of rosy lips, then presses a light kiss to my side. I feel it in my toes.

Ivy is trying to torture me, it’s clear. Her sly tongue follows the line of my hip, runs along my abs, goes everywhere but where I want her to be. My cock lifts as if trying to flag her down, begging for attention. Finally, she gives the head a lazy little lick, and I practically swallow my tongue.

She’s done this before, but now, after kissing her for so long, I’m strung tight as a wire, sensitive to every touch. When she sucks me in, I moan so loud it sounds like a plea, my eyes squeezing shut, heat rippling over my skin.

My hand falls to the crown of her head. I hold her there, slowly pump my dick in and out of her willing mouth. She hums, the vibration going straight to my balls. My grip tightens. “So fucking good, honey. Like that. God, like that.”