Divided (Unguarded #2) - Ivy Stone Page 0,61
up at my entrance and swirls it through my desire. Long, slow strokes. Up and down. The pressure—teasing. Enough to send my body crazy with lust. I groan and he surges forward, filling me up. His hands land around my neck. Pulling out to the tip he thrusts in again. This time settling himself all the way in. I quiver with every movement. Our bodies rub together. Our hands link together, squeezing tight as we power toward nirvana. My heels dig into his ass, pushing harder each time he jerks inside of me.
“Seven fucking years.” He breathes out through each thrust. His hands sweep over my forehead and he pulls back the loose strands of hair tickling my face. “You’re worth every excruciating second of the wait.”
He sits back and grips my hips. My skin pinches beneath his grip and he pounds into me. Harder. Faster. Unforgiving. My heart soars at his declaration and the new angle is all I need to tip me over the edge. I fall, fall into the depths of the only man I’ve ever loved. I fall over the brink of orgasm. Of pure bliss and God is it a beautiful drop. My toes curl. My walls contract around this gorgeous man above me as he hammers home. His body quakes and with a throaty grunt he pulses inside of me, filling me up with his cum.
Our labored breathing becomes the only sound in the dark room. Roamyn collapses on top of me and the moon shines down on him, lighting up the defined muscle tone in his back.
Roamyn’s weight adds pressure to my chest and I struggle to catch my breath after the mind-blowing sex. “Not that I want to move right now. Just for the record, I don’t. But you’re squishing me and I can’t exactly breathe.”
He chuckles into my neck. Breath tickling my skin and I squirm. Propping up on his hands, he hovers over me. With a twinkle in his eyes, he gleams down at me, sated and pleased with himself if the smirk teasing at his lips is anything to go by. I scoff. Still cocky.
I trail my fingers lazily over the veins in his forearm and weave them around to his sweaty chest. His gaze following the swirls I’m making with my fingers.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
He sighs and angles his head toward me, a sad smile on his face. “I’m thinking that no matter how many times I dreamed about this happening, not one of those dreams compares to the real thing.”
I melt. I swoon. I hurt. All at once. I’ve pined over the guy since I was fifteen and finally I’ve got him. He’s got me. But it’s not our time. Not yet. I ignore the voices in my head and live in this moment for a little longer.
I smile at him. “Smooth talker, aren’t you?”
He winks. “Only for you, babe.”
My head tilts back and I laugh before shifting under him. “We better get cleaned up.”
He rolls over, biceps bulging as he rests his hands behind his head. “Yeah, gotta get ready for round two.”
I arch a brow. “Round two?”
He looks at me like I’ve asked the most ridiculous question. “Babe. Seven years.”
Enough said.
Sunlight pulls me from sleep. I open one eye and glance up. The sun is shining through, a reminder I never closed the blinds last night. The distraction behind not doing it hardens the semi I’m already sporting. I close my eyes again, lids heavy and roll over to the empty side of the bed. I haven’t had nearly enough sleep. Ali’s vanilla perfume wafts from the pillow and I breathe in the scent I’ve come to recognize as Ali. Everything vanilla makes me think of her. The clashing sounds of pots and pans comes from outside the room and I figure Ali must be making breakfast. I yawn and sit up on the side of the bed. Yanking up my boxers from the floor, I slip them on, pull my dick up to lean against the waistband because it’s still hard as fuck from thinking about Ali.
I wander into the kitchen. Music pumps from the stereo and there’s Ali’s little round ass, shaking in the air as she checks on something in the oven. She sings the lyrics to the song playing, completely out of tune and I lean my elbows on the counter, a hand coming up to cover the grin I can’t hide because fuck, she couldn’t get any cuter.