Undressed By His Arrogance

Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to her. "Babe, I want more," she whispered.

He let go of her nipple, the absence making her sigh, a longing that matched his own. "I know," he murmured.

Then he rolled her over with care, lubricating himself generously, preparing for the intimacy that had been promised and long-awaited.

He pressed himself gently, slowly, into her ass, and Ivy grunted sharply, muscles instinctively tightening, adjusting to accommodate the fullness of him. Her hands braced against the mattress, nails digging in slightly, and she spread her legs wider, welcoming him fully into the tight space that had always belonged to him, that was his in every sense of ownership and desire.

When he finally found his way in, Winn leaned leaned forward, his mouth close to her ear, breath warm, steadying himself as much as her. "Good girl," he whispered. "Such a good girl. You okay?" It mattered to him, even wrapped in hunger and heat, even with his body screaming for release. Ivy nodded, her trust in him absolute.

He moved gently against her at first, painfully aware of how tight she was, how fiercely her body held him even with the lube. Every small movement drew a low sound from his chest. She was gripping him hard. He slid his hand in front of her, instinctively finding her clit, his fingers rolling over it in careful rhythm with his movements, adjusting to her breath, her tension, her need. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"Oh God..." Ivy moaned.

"Feel good, babe?" he asked. He needed to hear it, needed her voice to meet him there, to tell him they were still connected.

"Yes, love," she answered.

His thrusts became faster, harder, driven by the inevitable rise of his orgasm. He circled her clit faster with his fingers, focused, intent, chasing the sound of her breath, the way her body responded. His own breathing turned ragged, every nerve screaming, the edge closing in fast and unforgiving. "Shit, babe, I’m coming," he grunted.

"Faster," Ivy cried, chasing her own release from his fingers, from the connection, from the way everything inside her felt too big to contain.

Winn pulled out of her quickly. He came with a harsh sound, a curse ripped from his throat, his body jerking as release overtook him. "Fuck," he grunted, his muscles trembling as it passed through him.

When it was over, he collapsed onto the bed beside her, laughter bubbling out of him unexpectedly. "Epic wedding night!" he said, breathless.

Ivy giggled softly as she turned and cosied up next to him, fitting against his side. "You’re going to be here when I wake up, right?" she asked.

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "Every day, love. Every day."

*****

Joey groaned low in his throat, as he pushed in and out of Trish from behind. Each thrust pulled him closer, pleasure consuming him in waves. Trish’s cries of release mingled with his own gasps, filling the room with the evidence of need finally satiated. When they finally collapsed onto the bed, their bodies slick with sweat and tangled together, the quiet aftershock pressed in around them.

Every shiver, every tremor, every pulse felt magnified in the dim light. Breath came hard and fast, lungs struggling to catch up with what their bodies had already endured.

"So, are we going to define this or are we just going to keep fucking spontaneously?" Joey asked. He rolled to the side, pulling her close, letting the warmth of her body seep into his own, his hands lingering over her slick skin.

"At least this time, we aren’t drunk," Trish chuckled. Her fingers traced idle patterns along his arm, and she let herself sink into the warmth of him.

"Yeah. I’m...I’m sorry I didn’t reach out after then," Joey admitted.

"I get it. The situation wasn’t favourable at that time," Trish replied softly, brushing a damp curl from her forehead, her eyes meeting his.

"Yeah, but Winn and Ivy found a way to sneak around. I have no excuse," Joey said, the bitterness of inadequacy creeping into his words.

"It was just a fuck, Joey. You’re overthinking it," Trish said.

"What if I don’t just want it to be a fuck?"

"Joey..." Trish sighed.

"What?" he asked.

"Look, I have always had the hope that someday I will marry a millionaire," she chuckled, a self-deprecating sound, but her eyes were serious, reflecting the storm of conflicted desire inside her. "But seeing what Ivy and Winn went through...I don’t think I am cut out for any of that." She wanted the simplicity, the heat, the immediacy of him, but she feared the permanence, the consequence.

Joey stared down at her, heat and longing twisting together, his cock still slick.

"I promise you, my family is not even an inch as messed up as Winn’s family. Besides, we are just looking at where this may go," Joey said. "We’re not thinking about forever yet. Just...now."

"I think we should leave it at the fucking, Joey," Trish replied. "Maybe my destiny is to probably marry a busboy, who knows?" The laugh was brittle, masking the flicker of truth behind her words.

"Right! Fucking it is. Well, then. I better do a good amount of fucking," Joey said with a chuckle. He ran his hands down her naked body once more, sliding over the curve of her hips, tracing the line of her thighs, letting his fingers settle right inside her folds.

*****

The next morning, Ivy woke early. Winn lay heavily asleep beside her, chest rising and falling in deep, steady breaths, completely unguarded. She took a moment to drink him in—his skin glowing softly, muscles relaxed, his cock still small and soft from slumber, a sight that made her pulse race anew. A soft, happy smile curved her lips.

She could hardly believe she was awake beside him, no secrecy, no hiding, no fear—just him and her in their own little universe of heat, lust, and devotion.

She rose from the bed carefully, making sure not to disturb him. She rifled through his wardrobe, pulling out a soft, oversized t-shirt, and headed to brush her teeth.

Downstairs, the kitchen was already alive with warmth and the faint aroma of eggs, fresh bread, and coffee. The chef looked up at her entrance, surprised and slightly amused. "Oh, good morning. I didn’t think anyone would be up already. I’m usually supposed to be done with breakfast before Mr. Kane wakes. He likes waking up to a quiet house."

"I’m Mrs. Kane," Ivy said. "Yeah, he doesn’t like...people," she added with a soft laugh.

"I’ll make you a cup of coffee," the chef said.

"No...I can’t have coffee. I miss it though," Ivy replied softly.

"I’ll make you some freshly squeezed juice then," he said.

"Thank you," Ivy said. She lowered herself into the chair at the table, feeling the smooth surface beneath her palms, the quiet hum of the fridge, the distant tick of the clock. "So, who is in charge of the general running of the house?"

"Uhm...well, no one. Mr. Kane only needs the barest minimum done. Cleaning and cooking. The maid comes in when Mr. Kane isn’t home," the chef explained.

"Oh boy..." Ivy murmured. She could already see herself navigating the quiet chaos of a household.

"It’s okay. It’s the easiest and highest paying job around," the chef said, chuckling.

"What’s your name?" Ivy asked.

"Call me Ashley," the chef replied.

"Okay," Ivy said. "We will be out of town for a couple of days, but when we get back, we will establish a routine that works for everyone. Plus I have to let you know, we have an almost one-year-old kid, so...you may be doing a lot of baby cooking." She could already feel the pulse of life in the house shifting, imagine the little noises, the laughter, the chaos.

Ashley smiled. "I would really like that," she said. "Would you like me to look around for nannies for you to vet when you get back?"

"No...No... I mean...we missed everything with her. We will be doing everything with her to catch up," Ivy said. She had only been married a day, yet the responsibilities of motherhood and household management pressed on her in ways that felt simultaneously thrilling and terrifying.

"Great. I’ll just finish with this and hurry out before Mr. Kane comes downstairs," Ashley said, a faint smirk teasing the edges of her lips.

"I guess I have nothing to do then?" Ivy asked.

"I’ve got this. I’ll bring your juice to you in a bit," Ashley said.

"Thank you," Ivy said softly, a small smile tugging at her lips as she stepped out of the kitchen, giving Ashley space to work.

*****

Winn woke with a jolt, panic slicing through his groggy mind the moment he realized Ivy wasn’t beside him in the bed. The absence was unbearable, and for a second he imagined the worst. He threw on a pair of shorts and bolted downstairs.

He froze in the doorway of the living room, seeing her curled up on the couch, the soft fabric of his oversized t-shirt hugging her curves, a glass of juice balanced in her hand. Her attention was fixed on the TV, where news of Tom’s death and the arraignment of Morgana Adams played, but even as she processed the headlines, Winn’s gaze roamed over her.

Her body was small, perfect, and yet fully his.