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Wicked

Page 82

   


He got up and I could see the bulge in his pajama pants. Caught up in the pleasure he gave me, I met him halfway, gripping his hips as I found his mouth and kissed him. Tasting myself on him, I think I might've been a little drunk on pleasure, a little out of control with the idea of giving him what he'd just given me.
He groaned into my mouth, and my heart pounded as I balled the material of his sleep pants in my hands and dragged them down his lean hips, stopping just below his belly. "Ivy, what—?"
Freeing him, I wrapped one hand around the thick, hard base. His hips jerked and he rasped out, "Fuck, Ivy." He stared down at me, his eyes hooded, his taut stomach rippling with tremors. "You want to do this? You sure?"
Instead of answering, I showed him. Dragging my hand up his length, I reveled in the way his back arched.
"Damn, girl. I didn't do that for this."
Finding my voice, I tightened my grip on him. "I want to do this."
He groaned as I stroked him with my hand. "Move back," he ordered in a gruff voice. "Against the headboard."
I scooted until my back was against the wooden frame, and he moved, placing his knees on either side of my hips. His body caged me in. One hand landed on the headboard behind me and the other curved around the nape of my neck.
I'd done this a handful of times before with Shaun, but that had been so long ago, and it seemed like nothing compared to this. Ren was a man, and Shaun . . . well, he never got the chance to become one.
Pushing those troubling thoughts aside, I kissed him like he kissed me, and at the first taste of him, Ren's hips moved and the hand on my neck tightened. He made a deep guttural sound that told me that even though I was sure there were a whole lot of chicks that could do this better than me, he was right there with me.
I drew him in as deep as I could, and though his body shook, he was careful as he rocked his hips in short, quick motions, holding back even as I found my rhythm. "God, Ivy, you sweet, sweet thing," he groaned. "I can't take . . ."
Ren tried to pull away, but I was latched on to him, and he shouted my name as he came, his large body shuddering as his release rolled through him. I stayed with him until his body arched and he slipped out of my hand and mouth. He kneeled in, capturing my head and tilting it back, kissing me deeply despite what we'd just shared, and he didn't stop as he shifted off of me, dragging me down beside him.
Ren gathered me close, tucking me to his side as he rolled onto his back, his arm furthest from me thrown over his face. All I could see was his warm, sated smile.
His curls were mussed from sleep, adorably disheveled from what we'd just done as he turned his head to me. "Can I keep you?"
My heart skipped, and the first thought that flounced into my head was that I wanted to be kept by him.
I stiffened and my skin chilled like icy water had been doused over my head. The pleasure that I'd been given—that I'd given—cleared, and as I lay burrowed close to Ren, the most horrible thought crossed my mind.
How could I go back to what life was like before Ren when I lost him? Not if, but when, because I would lose him eventually. That was how things worked for me. I loved and I lost, and I cut off that train wreck of a thought before it could become something more, something entirely too powerful.
"Hey," he murmured softly.
My heart was pounding in my chest again, but for different reasons. Nausea turned my stomach. Back before I lost my family and Shaun, I hadn't thought my days with them were numbered. It hadn't crossed my mind, but things were different now, because our days were not infinite, they were most likely numbered down to one day.
Wednesday was a haunting shadow that never truly faded away, and I knew it was the same for him. After all, why else had he asked me to stay the night? There was a chance that we were going to see a lot of death—we might not even come back from it. Ren might not survive.
Panic seized my insides, sinking its bitter claws into my skin. I couldn't do it—couldn't face the soul-crushing grief again, and if things with Ren carried on—hell, even now, losing him would have a shattering impact.
I sat up, tugging my shirt down so my lower half was covered. Oh God, I really had screwed up—fucked this up. I wasn't supposed to let him get close. We couldn't be normal. Order members didn't have normal. Out of everyone, I knew that, and here I was, in bed with a guy who could very likely die by the time the moon rose tomorrow.
"Hey," he said again, following me. "What's wrong?"
"I . . ." In the back of my head, there was a part of me telling me to stop, to take a deep breath, but acid filled my mouth. I needed to get out of here. This was a mistake. "I have to go."
"What?"
Tossing my legs off the bed, I stood and headed for the dresser. I stopped halfway, but didn't see my panties, and decided I really didn't need them.
"Whoa. Wait a sec, Ivy. What's going on?" Ren was off the bed, hitching up his bottoms. "Talk to me."
I grabbed my jeans off the dresser, tugging them on without looking at him. "I just need to go home. That's it."
"Okay. That's so not it. You were fine, fucking sweetness in my hands a couple of seconds ago, and now you won't even look at me." Ren came toward me, and I backed up, bumping into the dresser. A look of confusion poured into his face. "What the hell?"
Turning away, I pulled his shirt off and slipped my bra and shirt on faster than I ever put clothes on in my entire life.