The rage returns, colder this time. Cole never made her come? Never bothered to give her pleasure?
"He was a selfish piece of shit," I say bluntly. "And I'm going to spend the rest of the night proving to you what you should have had all along."
Her eyes widen. "The rest of the night?"
"You think I'm done with you?" I crawl back up her body, settling between her legs. "Sweetheart, we're just getting started."
I capture her mouth in a kiss, letting her taste herself on my tongue. She moans into it, her arms wrapping around my neck. When I pull back, I'm painfully hard, my cock straining against my jeans. Ivy notices, her hand trailing down to palm me through the fabric.
"Your turn," she says, and there's determination in her voice.
"You don't have to…"
"I want to." She's already working my belt, nimble fingers unbuckling it with surprising speed. "Let me, Phoenix. Let me make you feel good too."
How the fuck am I supposed to say no to that?
I help her by kicking off my boots, and when she gets my jeans unbuttoned, I lift my hips so she can slide them down along with my boxer briefs.
My cock springs free, and Ivy's eyes go wide.
"You're—" She stops, licks her lips. "You're big."
Pride surges through me, primal and male. "Will that be a problem?"
"No." She reaches out, wrapping her hand around my shaft, and I have to fight not to come right there like a fucking teenager. "I want all of it."
Jesus Christ.
She strokes me slowly, her hand small around my girth, and it's the best thing I've felt in years. Maybe ever. Her touch is curious, exploratory, like she's learning what I like.
"Tell me what feels good," she says.
"Everything." My voice is strained. "Anything you do feels incredible."
She experiments, varying her grip and speed, watching my face for reactions. When she thumbs the head, collecting the precum beading there, I groan.
"Like that?"
"Fuck yes, like that."
She does it again, then leans down.
I realize what she's about to do a second before she does it. Her mouth closes around the head of my cock, hot and wet, and I nearly lose my mind.
"Ivy… Fuck, you don't have to—"
But she's already taking me deeper, her tongue swirling around my shaft, and coherent thought becomes impossible. She bobs her head, taking as much of me as she can, her hand working what won't fit. It's messy and enthusiastic and absolutely fucking perfect.
I thread my fingers through her short hair, gentle, not controlling. Just touching, grounding myself.
"That's it, sweetheart. Just like that. You're doing so fucking good."
The praise seems to spur her on. She hollows her cheeks, sucking harder, and I have to grip the sheets to keep from thrusting up into her mouth. But I don't want to come like this. Don't want to finish in her mouth when there's so much more I want to do to her.
"Ivy, stop. I want... I need to be inside you."
She pulls off with a loud pop, her lips swollen and wet. "Yes. Please."
