Johnson Family 1: Unforgettable (22 page)

Ivy dipped one breast into Lucas's mouth, and he lapped at the tip, groaning in frustration when she withdrew. She did it again, but her teasing came to a halt when he caught her by the waist and pushed her onto her back. Holding her hands pinned above her head, he took his time and licked his way across her chest, from one breast to the other. He savored each one, plucking the walnut-colored peaks between his thick lips and sending shockwaves to her clit.

The moist swirl of his tongue and the rough texture of his beard across her sensitive skin ignited her nerve endings. She arched her back and opened her legs wider, letting him simulate sex with a slow grind. The pleasure was almost too much. She tossed her head from side to side, confined to one position because he held her captive so he could feast on her breasts without restriction. He was relentless, sucking her swollen nipples, licking at the curved mounds, burying his face in the valley between them.

Just when she thought she couldn't possibly take anymore of the delicious attack, without notice, he turned her onto her stomach.

“This is what I want right here,” he said.

His hand palmed her butt in a display of possession, and she tilted her hips higher, wantonly rubbing her bottom against his crotch.

“Can't wait, can you?” he asked in a rough voice.

His hand landed with a loud smack on her bottom. Ivy cried out and bowed her back into a deeper curve. Feverish warmth expanded from the point of impact and sent an erotic wave through her body.

“Don't you ever lose this ass,” he said. His voice sounded dark and thick.

He hit her again, and the stinging blow sent a rush of heat to her wet core. Teetering on her hands and knees from the onslaught, she closed her eyes to relish the pain.

“More,” she whimpered, pushing back against him.

He sucked air between his teeth and obliged her demand, hitting her again and again. Every time he did the blow made her buttocks jiggle and sent an echoing pulse to her clit. She fell onto her elbows, mouth agape, gasping and weak with pleasure.

“Look,” Lucas said.

Ivy twisted her head and saw what he saw, the two of them reflected in the window-she on her elbows and knees and he behind her.

He sat back on his haunches and lifted her knees onto his thick thighs. The position made it easy for him to kiss the bruised flesh of her butt cheeks, prompting a different kind of sensation. He soothed her with delicate kisses and moist licks of his tongue. A touch that was softer, more tender in pressure.

“I love the way you smell,” he breathed, yanking her higher.

Then he pressed his mouth to her sex. Ivy cried out, but he tightened his hold, keeping her in a vulnerable position that had her backwards and almost upside down in front of him.

“Goddamn, you taste so good,” he panted. He tilted his head and licked her damp flesh as if he couldn't get enough. It was a complete and thorough ravishing that left her tearing at the sheets, breathless with her head spinning.

A sound came from him, half groan, half growl. His mouth continued its merciless assault on her body, and like a voyeur, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight of his face pressed between her legs, mirrored in the glass. The erotic image propelled her to the edge at a faster pace, and when she climaxed, her entire body shook from the force of it.

Lucas eased her on to the bed on her stomach and trailed soothing kisses up her back. It felt as if he covered every inch of skin. She luxuriated in the attention, purring and stretching like a satisfied cat.

“We're not done yet, darlin'.”

She hoped not, because she still hadn't felt him inside of her. And she wanted that, more than anything.

He rolled her over and fixed two pillows beneath her hips. He covered her body with his, and she closed her arms around his warm, solid torso. She stroked the satiny muscles and ran her hands down his back to his firm posterior. She urged him forward, and with one stroke he burrowed to the hilt.

Her head snapped back and she whimpered as her body came alive again. Only he could do this-turn her into a livewire so quickly, so thoroughly. She pressed her feet into the mattress to meet each downward stroke. Rolling her hips, she matched his tempo, and her pliant body twisted unrestrictedly beneath him.

“Goddamn, Ivy, wait a…” His voice trailed off when she tightened her muscles. He swore viciously, his rhythm stumbling.

She felt powerful in that moment, as if she was in control.

“You got the good shit,” he said. His voice was tight, as if he barely got the words out. “This my shit now,” he said, stroking harder, delving deeper. His eyes met hers in the glass. “Let me hear you say it. Let me hear you say this is mine.”

Her muscles clenched around him as she neared another orgasm. “Yours, Lucas. This is your shit.”

“Damn right.”

Her arms tightened around his shoulders and her ankles folded at the base of his spine. In the glass, their brown bodies locked together so tight it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

“All mine.”

“Yes. All yours.”

He swelled inside of her and she sensed how he struggled to hold back.

“Don't stop,” she begged. She was so close. “Please. Not yet.”

“I'm not gonna last much longer,” he grunted.

His arms flexed and his throat drew taut as he wrestled with self-control. Clenching his teeth, he increased the speed of his thrusts, turning the sweet ride into a chaotic inferno of heat in her pelvis.

It was just what she needed. Pressure tugged in her stomach and she exploded around him. Tears sprang to her eyes as her body shuddered through a climax that battered her senses and tightened her spine.

“I love you,” she cried out as wave after wave of pleasure doused her body in flames.

“Say it again,” Lucas commanded, pumping faster.

“I love you. I love you.” Her hips moved spasmodically in time to the words as she rode out the orgasm.

With a hoarse, pained sound, Lucas buried his face in her neck and came. His big body shook and he grabbed at her hips, grinding his pelvis between her thighs.

“Ivy,” he gasped in a husky voice. His body trembled above her.

After a long time, he finally caught his breath and lifted his eyes to hers. “I love you, too.”

Chapter Twenty-five

Ivy stretched and slid her leg between Lucas’s thighs. The hairs there tickled her skin and underlined the contrast of his masculine body to her feminine form. He lay on his back with his eyes closed and she was half on top of him, drained of energy but very content.

His eyelashes brushed his cheekbone, and she couldn’t resist swiping a finger over the curled hairs.

“Watch it,” he warned. “You’ll poke my eye out.”

“It’s so unfair,” she said.

He grunted.

She touched his beard, letting the bristles abrade her fingertips.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“I like the beard,” she said.

He twisted his head on the pillow to look at her. “So I can keep it?”

“Yes, you can.” She rested her head on his shoulder and smiled into his neck.

“How about a shower?” He ran a hand in a leisurely stroke over her hip and thigh, applying a pleasurable warmth to her skin everywhere he touched.

Ivy moaned and rolled away from him. “I’m too lazy.”

“Come on.” He smacked her bare bottom.

“Stop.” She rubbed her flesh and watched him climb out of bed. She bit her knuckles to keep from screaming in delight as she watched the corded muscles of his shoulders and back ripple under the dimmed overhead lights.

“Quit looking at my ass,” he said, heading toward the adjoining bathroom. “I’m not a piece of meat.”

“I’m not looking at your flat ass.”

“Ha, nice try,” he hollered from the bathroom. “I get a lot of compliments on my ass, thank you very much.” He deserved those compliments. He had a beautiful behind, firm and taut like the rest of him. She loved grabbing it as encouragement to sink deeper into her body.

She sat up and yelled, “And apparently all those compliments have gone to your head.” She flopped against the pillows in a fit of giggles, feeling very pleased with herself.

“What the hell are all these gadgets?”

Ivy sat up again. “It’s a steam shower. It doubles as a sauna,” she explained.

No sound came from the bathroom for a while, then, “Is this a radio?”

She laughed at the incredulous tone of his voice. “It’s a control panel, but yes, there’s a built-in radio, too.”

“Bet you haven’t used any of this, have you?”

“Yes, I have.” In all honesty, she’d only taken advantage of the sauna once, right after she moved in. She hadn’t used it since.

“You coming in here to help me with all these buttons, hoses, and other contraptions? I just want to take a shower.”

Ivy groaned dramatically so he could hear, but she scooted off the bed and entered the bathroom to find him standing outside the glass enclosure. As soon as she was close enough, he grabbed her and dragged her into the shower with him and closed the door. Which had probably been his plan all along.

“My hair!” she shrieked. She lifted her hands to her head, but he ignored her protests and turned on the water, drenching them both in the warm pellets gushing from the overhead fixture and the body jets.

“I’m going to get you,” she said, thumping his hard chest.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he said with a cocky grin. Then he dipped his head and captured her mouth.

They made love in a rush, devouring each other as if it was the last chance they’d ever have. Tongue, teeth, lips traveled over soaking wet skin. Lucas lifted her against the wall and thrust upward, his hard flesh pulsing inside the snug fit of her body. They slammed together, grinding, pumping, until the tempo increased.

“You feel so good,” she whimpered. “Don’t stop, don’t stop.” Her breathless chants had him pounding harder, pushing deeper until their orgasms erupted at the same time.

They shuddered through the climax, clinging tight and panting heavily. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, and he gripped her so hard she had no doubt he’d leave handprints on her ass. Eventually, normal breathing took the place of the shallow pants, but they remained bound together for a while as water rained down on them.

****

“Do you still write poetry?” Ivy asked.

She looked relaxed, having changed and teamed a pair of designer jeans with a white fitted T-shirt. Her damp hair was wrapped in a towel while she prepared omelets for them as a late dinner. Lucas followed her instructions for the preparation of salad dressing using red wine vinegar and Dijon mustard.

“Nah.”

“Why not?”

The noise of the blender filled the kitchen. When he turned it off, he answered. “Because they were so corny.”

“I liked them.” She sounded defensive, as if he’d insulted her poetry. She slid the last omelet onto the plate.

“I wasn’t any good,” he said. “I haven’t written anything in years.”

Not since they split. Before he’d met her, he’d written poems, but they’d been mostly about societal problems. After meeting Ivy, most of what he wrote had become love poems. She’d been his muse, and he hadn’t written anything after they broke up.

“Do you remember any of them?” She looked at him expectantly.

“Hardly.”

“None?”

“Nah.”

“They were nice.” She poured dressing into a bottle. “You want to know which one I really liked?”

“Which one?”

“The Sun and the Moon,” she responded, a wistful note in her voice.

Lucas groaned. “One of the worst ones.” He remembered it. He’d spit out the words one night as they walked back to his apartment.

“It wasn’t so bad,” she said quietly. “‘You’re beautiful, boo. The sun and the moon ain’t got nothing on you.’ Do you remember the rest?”

“A little bit.” He’d been inspired by her beauty that night, feeling romantic, walking hand in hand after a night of spoken word at a nearby café. This woman, who could have any man she wanted, had wanted him. The poem had started as a silly rhyme, but soon he realized it accurately summed up his feelings for her.

She looked up from the meal preparations, and he recited the words. “The stars in the sky can’t match the stars in your eyes. The prettiest gem in the world cannot compare to you. If asked, I would say, that’s the God’s honest truth. Anyone who says different, I would call them a fool. Cause the sun and the moon ain’t got nothing on you.”

She stared down at the plate in her hand.

“Ivy?”

“I wish…” There was a breathless, pained quality to her voice.

He took the plate from her and set it on the counter. He pulled her into his arms. Her soft body molded to his, and she smelled like the lilac lotion he’d rubbed into her skin after their shower.

“No regrets,” he said. “We both needed to grow up, I think.”

She laid her head on his chest and wrapped both arms around his waist. “It doesn’t stop me from wishing things had been different.”