Undressed By His Arrogance

Ivy hummed in response. She was teasing, knowing exactly what she was doing, drawing him in deeper with every glance, every movement. His hands itched to explore her more, to erase the ache that had built up. Every second apart had been torture, every thought of her a spark that refused to die.

"How about I show you greedy?" he ran his fingers slowly down her arms. "Jesus...I missed you. I was going out of my mind. How did I live without you for a year?"

Ivy shivered under his touch, leaning into him as if magnetized.

"It’s going to get better. But all this sneaking around is kinda hot." Ivy’s laugh was breathy, her words teasing, her body betraying her excitement. Her fingers gripped his arms lightly, pulling him closer. The thrill of secrecy—the stolen moments, the danger of being caught—added fuel to the fire.

Winn chuckled. "You’re a bad girl."

"I’m your bad girl."

Winn’s lips curved into a hungry smile as he lowered his mouth to her throat, kissing, nipping, and tracing a path down her collarbone. His tongue followed, teasing, tasting, igniting every nerve he could reach.

"All my life, I have never wanted a woman this badly." His fingers traveled lower, tracing teasing circles along her thighs, brushing against her skin just above her panties. Ivy’s head tilted back, eyes fluttering closed as anticipation built, her body melting against his.

The heat between them became unbearable, the sound of her breath mingling with the low bass of the club. Winn’s hands were skilled, patient, torturing and pleasing, and every movement was calculated to push her closer to the edge.

"You’re so sexy. Touch your tits for me, love." He whispered.

Ivy’s hands moved immediately, cupping her breasts, rolling her fingers around her nipples as she followed his command. Winn’s eyes were hungry, dark, and filled with raw desire. His own fingers hovered, teasing just above her panties, watching her reactions, memorizing every gasp, every shiver, every moment of surrender.

"Be a good girl, pull the dress down. I want to see them."

Ivy’s hands trembled slightly as she reached for the straps of her dress, pulling them down her arms, letting the fabric slide over her shoulders. The soft brush of silk against her skin heightened the anticipation, and she felt exposed, electrified, and completely his in that moment.

Winn sucked in a breath, eyes dark with desire, his tongue itching to trace her skin, to taste her. But he held himself back. His hands gripped her waist, his fingers brushing along her sides, memorizing the feel of her body before he let them explore more daringly.

"Touch them, sweetie. Come on," he commanded softly, yet there was no mistaking the steel beneath his words. Ivy obeyed, letting her hands roam, following his instruction.

His fingers slid her underwear aside, pressing against her already slick folds, eliciting a gasp from Ivy even before he had fully touched her. The scent of her arousal, intoxicating him, making him growl low in his throat. "Delicious," he muttered, and his hand gripped her waist tighter, pulling her closer so that his fingers could delve deeper, exploring her, learning her, claiming her.

The heat, the tightness, the wetness—it all drove him wild, and the knowledge that she was trembling under his touch stoked a fierce pride.

"Winn..." Ivy moaned, and it was all the fuel he needed to continue.

"My beautiful mess," he groaned, his fingers curling inside her, finding the spot that made her arch into him, drawing out a longer, wilder moan that resonated deep in his chest.

The way her body reacted to his touch made him ache with desire and longing. Every gasp, every shiver, every tremor of pleasure reminded him why he had waited, why he had endured months of absence, why he had chased her across the chaos of their lives. "Do you want to ride me, babe, or you want me to take you from behind?" he asked.

"I want to ride you."

"Good girl." His fingers withdrew slowly, teasing her one last time. He unbuckled his belt, and his cock sprang free, a physical testament to the lust he carried for her.

He shifted her gently, sliding her underwear aside once more, adjusting her so she could sink down onto him. The soft pressure of her against him, the friction of skin on skin, the intoxicating smell and heat—all of it collided into a heady storm of sensation.

She bounced on top of him, nails digging into his back. Winn’s eyes darkened as he watched her. His mind wasn’t thinking, only reacting—each bounce, each shift, each gasp was a signal, a siren call that he couldn’t resist.

He noticed she was trying desperately to stay quiet, lips pressed together, eyes squeezing shut. His palm came down hard on her ass, making her flinch but also stoking the fire. "Moan for me," he demanded.

"No..." she whispered.

"I don’t care who can hear us. Moan..." His hand spanked her again, harder this time, and the sound broke free. Her moan echoed in the small booth, mingling with the distant bass of the club. "You’re mine, everyone should know that."

His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he drove himself upward, matching her rhythm. Each thrust was powerful, a reminder that no one else mattered, that this—this moment, this heat, this desire—was theirs and theirs alone. Ivy’s body arched into him, pressing, writhing, and every curve pressed against him.

No way could she hold back now. Her moans came in sharp bursts, her breaths catching, mingling with cries that made his pulse race. His name spilled from her lips.

"Fuck... you’re so hot!" he grunted, gripping her hips tighter as he watched his cock glisten with her juices, sliding in and out with unrelenting pressure. The intensity, the closeness, the way she moved with him, made him forget the world beyond the booth, forget enemies, scheming, everything except the raw connection coursing through them.

(@MissyDionne, I hope Winn and Ivy haven’t emptied your bank account. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.)

NB: There will be lots of smut to catch up on all the time they spent apart before the book ends.