Page 43 of Redeem Me

‘As much as I loved eating you out from behind, I’m going to enjoy watching your face as you lose it on my tongue.’ Our eyes lock as I sink my lips over her hot centre.

‘I’m still going on a date with your brother,’ she pants.

‘You little witch.’ I suck her clit and sink two fingers inside her. ‘What are you doing to me?’

‘I know what I’d like to do to you.’ Her fingers threadthrough my hair, halting me. ‘But for some reason, you seem determined to keep me away from your cock. Do you think Dermot will mind you licking my pussy less than if you fucked me?’

‘I never want to find out,’ I mutter, shaking my head free of her grasp and catching her clit with my lips again.

Her hips buck, her back arches, and her thighs tremble. I watch her the entire time as she breaks and shatters on my tongue. Ivy’s mews and moans are my favourite Sunday morning soundtrack. She stares straight back at me with a wondrous look in her eyes.

She thinks there’s hope for me yet.

The only hope I have is that I don’t embarrass myself by coming in my pants. Because Ivy Winters is fire and I am ice. And I can’t afford to melt in a puddle.

Chapter Nineteen

CAELON

Ivy tugs my hair as she comes on my face, but worse than that, she tugs something in my chest. Something I thought was frozen so solid it was untouchable.

I crawl up the bed, blazing a trail of tiny kisses over the smooth plane of her stomach, between her breasts, up her neck and over her jawline. Her limbs are languid, but her eyes are sharply aware. I’d swear she’s holding her breath, waiting for me to kiss her mouth.

My lips hover over hers. Her chin dips in a clear invitation.

I can’t do it.

I can’t kiss her. No matter how badly I want to. Kissing changes everything.

I press my lips to her cheek and leave Ivy’s room without another word. If she wants to go out with Rian, I can’t stop her.

The kids are thankfully still engrossed in their cartoon show, so I head up for a shower. It takes all of an embarrassing ten strokes of my cock before I come harder than ahurricane all over the glossy, ivory tiles, imagining my hand was Ivy’s tight hot channel.

Maybe if I give into this thing between us, I could get her out of my system? Then she can go on her merry quest for a husband, and I can continue my quest for revenge.

No.

We can’t.

She’ll want more, and I’m not capable of that. Someone will get hurt. And we’ve all had enough pain for one lifetime.

By the time I leave my bedroom, dressed and ready for the day, I’ve vowed, once again, to leave Ivy alone. Stripping my son’s urine-soaked bedsheets is a swift reality check. My life is complicated.

Ivy has no place in it other than in a professional capacity.

When I stroll into the living room to switch the TV off, I find Orla sucking on a lollipop.

‘Where did you get that?’ I tut, glancing at the clock. It’s way too early for a sugar high and the inevitable crash that will follow.

‘Uncle Rian gave it to us,’ Orla and Owen exclaim unanimously.

Of course he did. A tightness weaves into my torso. I scan the gardens, looking for his car. ‘Where is he?’

‘He’s gone. He took Ivy out for a spin. We asked if we could go, but he said he only had two seats.’ Orla pulls a puppy-dog look.

‘Go and get dressed. I’ll take you for a spin, princess.’ I smooth her hair back from her eyes.

‘And me?’ Owen bounces on the couch like it’s a trampoline and not a fifty-thousand-euro Italian custom-made piece.

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