Page 55 of Collide

“Ivy, we can keep waiting if you want,” I assure her, and her head tips back on my shoulder. She hums as she strokes my arm.

“I don’t want to wait, but I can.” For all her efforts to get me to have sex with her, I’m surprised by this concession. I lower to kiss her neck and then scoop up her hair, twisting it around my fist. I continue to her nape, and she dips her chin to her chest.

“I don’t think I can wait any longer,” I breathe along the fine hairs on the back of her neck.

“Thank God,” she whispers with a giggle.

My fingers find the multiple buttons along her back, and I take the time to unbutton each one, kissing each piece of exposed skin. Being with Ivy is typically a race, but tonight, I want to take my time even though we’ve waited this long. My hands skim up her spine and press at the open dress, forcing it over her shoulders. She tugs it forward to assist me, revealing a demi-cup bra barely containing her swollen breasts.

“Ivy,” I hiss, looking at her in the reflection. She smiles at me—a mischievously pleased grin. I shove the remainder of the dress over her hips and discover a thin thong covers the dark patch of hair at the top of her legs. I’d seen her fully naked three days ago but seeing her again in the dim light of the room, knowing she’s my wife, is like I’m seeing her for the first time. The curve of her belly. The weight of her breasts. The feel of her skin. I can’t stop touching her.

“I’m going to love you as my wife.” We’ve only said the words to each other for the first time mixed within our vows. They escaped in the heat of the moment, but I’m hopeful we’ll get there. She’ll love me in time. She’ll mean what she said during the wedding.

I turn her around and find her mouth, kissing her until her knees bend. My fingers delve into her hair, stuck on the pins holding the top back. As I release her mouth, I remove the hair pieces and then lead her to the bed. She kicks out of her shoes, which we laughed about after the wedding.

Flip-flops?

My feet are too swollen in the heat.

Ivy scoots back and watches me as I remove my vest. Not one to disappoint, she sits up and unsnaps her bra, pulling it forward to expose two white globes with enlarged pink nipples. Ivy squeezes one herself, and my fingers fumble on my own pants. I can’t get the buckle of my belt undone fast enough. She sweetly chuckles as she lowers a finger only to her belly and between her thighs.

“No,” I panic, not wanting her to take what’s mine. She spreads her legs and slips the finger under the lace covering her. I shove my pants to the floor and nearly fall over kicking out of my shoes.

“Ivy,” I hiss as her lids lower. I practically tear my socks tugging them off my feet, and then I leap for the bed. Ivy laughs hysterically as I knock her backward and force her hand away. I grip her wrist and bring her fingers to my mouth, sucking at the first taste of desire from her.

Her face grows serious as she looks at me lying next to her. “I don’t think we can do this the conventional way.” Her hand smooths her belly, and she shifts to her side to face me. “I’m too big like this.” Ivy’s already told me how sleeping on her back is impossible and not good for the baby’s circulation.

“Since when have we been conventional?” I tease. My fingers snap the edge of her thong on the hip turned to me and then they dive for her warm and wet center, waiting for more from me. I pull back and reach for her upper arm.

“How much foreplay do you need?” I ask as I roll to my back and signal for her to climb over me with the tug of her arm. She slips her leg out of the other half of her thong and then twists to straddle my lap.

“I think we’ve had enough foreplay,” she mocks. “Months of it.”

Her damp core sits over my hard shaft, pressing against me but not moving. My palms coast up and down her upper thighs.

“Am I too heavy for you?” she asks, turning shy in her condition.

“Ivy,” I groan. “Of course not.” She’s still mostly thin other than the basketball at her belly. The Mouthy Source got one thing right.

She leans over me, her arms holding her upright. Her hair curtains her face as she stares into my eyes.

“I meant what I said today, Ivy. I love you. I do.”

She nods slowly, her hair tickling my shoulder. “I feel like love isn’t the right word to describe how I feel about you. It’s so much, and I’m frightened you’ll break me one day, Gage. But right now, at this moment, there’s nowhere else I want to be. You’re all I think about, all I see, all I want to be.”

I brush back her hair, pushing it behind her ear, and swipe at a tear slipping from the corner of her eye.

“I love you, Gage Everly.”

“I love you, Ivy Everly.” The name rings softly through the room, and Ivy smiles despite the tears.

“Can you make love to me now?” she whispers, and my heart aches with the urgency and earnestness in the words. No more fucking. No more sex. Making love. To my wife.

She reaches between us to stroke my length, slipping up the shaft until I leak. She uses it to lubricate me, and then she positions me at her entrance. She sits up on her knees, balancing on the tip, balancing on a precipice we can never go back from once she falls. And she falls. She quickly lowers, forcing me to disappear within her, and my head throws back.

“Mothertrucker,” I mutter, overwhelmed with the initial contact. “I’ve never…Only you…It’s so much more.” I can’t speak. She’s stolen all my words, all my breath as she swallows me into her. My fingertips dig into her hips, and then she moves slowly, hesitantly, testing the feeling inside her.

“It’s been so long,” she whispers. “But it’s never been like this.” She presses on my chest for a second and then sits back, the shift drawing me into a new position within her.