Page 46 of Shit Happens in Ivydell

He crosses his forearms in front of his face defensively.

“Stop that!” I set whatever she is back on my nightstand. Gently. But facing the kitchen. “You’re mean.”

He drops his arms. “You’re beautiful. Come here.”

“Are you going to be nice?”

“So nice.”

We shed our clothes in record time. I crawl under the covers. The sheets are soft against my skin. Sensual.

“Under the covers?” he asks.

“You’ve seen every inch of me. I like to be under the covers sometimes.”

“You sure snuggling under the covers isn’t too mushy for you?”

“I trust you to keep things depraved enough for my comfort.”

His mouth closes on mine. It’s a deep kiss, the kind he specializes in. He kneads my scalp like he’s trying to put me to sleep. But there’s no way he’d let me drift off with this hard-on between us. I circle my fingers around it. They don’t quite touch, but I’m covering enough skin to make him shudder when I slide my hand down a few inches.

“I love that I can make you do that.”

“I love that you can make me do that.”

His hand slips between my legs. “And I love the way your pussy feels in my hand, the way it tastes, the sound you make when I first push inside you . . .”

“Make me make sounds, Jensen.”

“I’m going to make love to you, Ivy Dell McAdams.”

“Just Ivy.”

“Wild Ivy.”

“That doesn’t exist in the desert.”

“Yes, she does.”

His fingers push inside me, and I make a sound.

He kisses me, and the sound escapes my mouth again. It’s not the one he referred to earlier, the gasp that leaves me the moment his cock enters my pussy.

This is different, something between a moan and a cry for mercy. It’s needy, laced with desperation. But only I know that beyond being desperate for everything we’re about to do, I’m twice as desperate not to feel the warm comfort that will linger when we’re done.

But the need for what comes before is too strong to stop it from happening. The fear of what comes after is a consequence I’ll have to face. Again. And again. Until I get over it. I think if anyone could get me over it, it’s Jensen James Stinger.

He pulls the covers completely over our heads.

His cock stretches my opening.

I gasp. And then I relax and let him make love to me.

He’ll be rough again later. But right now, he’s pure comfort. And I could be okay with needing this. Someday.

“Goddamn, your pussy feels good. I love the way your tight little snatch milks my cock.”

“Those are awfully dirty words from a man who’s supposed to be making love to me.”

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