End With A Bang (Slap/Bang Duet #2)

4. Is Now All Right

CHAPTER FOUR

Is Now All Right

Sever Mark was a man of many talents, not the least of which was the ability to pack two days’ worth of emotions into the breadth of a single, innocuous word.

“ Hi .”

That soft, airy utterance was a layer cake of surprise, relief, flirtation, pride and a soup?on of uncertainty, baked to moist perfection and iced with the rich, delicious thrill of hearing from a secret lover.

Relishing that same thrill—and most of the other layers, too—Ivy, lounging on her stomach, kicked off her pumps, rubbed a toe over the left edge of her bed and replied in kind, “ Hi .”

He took her cue, didn’t rush it. The silence held the true conversation. “How are you?”

Ivy fiddled with her hoop earring. I’ve been doing this blushy-grinny thing ever since I left your driveway. Yesterday, at work, I kissed my own shoulder. Twice. My skin is always tingling, I verge on orgasm 24/7, and I can’t stop fantasizing about running away with you. “I’m okay. You?”

She heard his chair creak. He was probably leaning back in it. “Never better.”

The blushy grin broke out again, and she hid it in her Herbal Essences-scented locks. Two mornings ago, in his bed, he’d whispered that the scent of her hair made him hard.

Quietly, teasingly, he prodded, “Is there something you want to ask me?”

She bit her lip and rolled onto her back. Her hair fanned down the bedside and her blouse rode up. “Uh huh.”

“Yeah?” he asked, and she could tell he was grinning, too. Ivy knew exactly what his eyes looked like right now: sparky and mischievous and too blue for anyone’s good. “Do I get three guesses?”

She noticed she was finger-tracing an S shape onto her belly—sort of like he’d done in his kitchen. Only, in his kitchen, he’d scribbled it atop his semen, punctuated it with a dot and held his finger to her mouth, saying, Eat up. “‘Kay.”

“Animal, vegetable, mineral.”

Her neck prickled and her breath got shallow. Each one of those words sounded like an invitation to sit on his face. “Animal.”

“Hmm,” he mulled. “Is it bigger than a?—”

“I want you.”

He met her low volume. “Say again?”

She knew he heard her the first time. “I want you, Sever. Right now. I want you.”

A savoring inhale as he took this in, and then he asked, “How much time have we got?”

She checked her watch. “Two hours? Maybe three.”

“Twenty minutes,” he said, suddenly all business. “Make that ten. Meet me at the Downtown Mark.”

And that was crazytalk. His company headquarters were in Westwood, about two miles past his house, which was already twenty west of Downtown. At half past five, he would need a teleporter to make that time. “You can’t get here in ten minutes, it’s rush hour?—”

“Don’t trouble yourself with the details, tigresse . I have my ways.”

Ivy sat up on her elbows.

“Terrell will meet you in the lobby, give you a key.”

“To... a hotel room.” Ivy snapped out of her dream state. A hotel room made this whole thing official—the planning, and scheming, and the mutual sharing of blame... No longer could this be justified as a slip or an impetuous urge. This was a sign-here-on-the-dotted-line, don’t-forget-your-key-Miss, no-turning-back-now AFFAIR. “In your hotel.”

“Don’t be scared, Ivy. It’s just a convenient place to meet. That’s all.”

“Right.” She breathed through the anxiety. His voice helped. “I know. Right.”

“So... Will I see you in ten, then?”

Any guilt she felt was overpowered by how very desperately she wanted to see him in ten. “I’ll be there.”

It was official.

Ivy was having an affair. With her father in-law. Who covered up a murder, thrashed girls in a private dungeon, built a gluttonous empire out of the blood-stained ashes of his youth... He also cried like a little boy, kissed like the world was ending and held her like he was drowning in a stormy sea.

And the way he touched her... and the things he said ...

‘m gonna have to come on you now

Is now all right?

Grin. Blush. There it was again. Looking around her, she slid the gym bag strap up her shoulder and waited to cross a busy intersection. The bag would support her excuse if she got home before Jason did. Also, it helped to have a change of clothes should Sever rip anything, or pour champagne all over her, or a myriad of other fabric-unfriendly actions he was capable of.

She turned a corner and the looming scribble logo of the Downtown Mark came into view. For the first time, it occurred to her that it was his hand-written signature, complete with confident period at the end that said, I own this bitch .

Such gross displays of power had never impressed Ivy... before. Now it seemed like everything about him was there strictly to make her heart pound and her knees wobble and her pussy drip. He’d sobbed in her arms, laughed at her jokes and cooked for her in his kitchen, but he also had his name on skyscrapers all over the planet. As she approached the giant, god-like autograph of her tender, fallible lover, it suddenly clicked: Power was hot. When you had the hots for the one with the power.

True, she married the heir to his throne, and she was about to betray him in a whole new way. But Jason had become so distant and Sever had become so close—besides, he made her feel so indescribably good that any bad she felt melted away before it had a chance to take.

This new chapter scared her to death, but it was also exhilarating. It wasn’t just the power trip, or the heady euphoria of sneaking around with a new lover. It was the rush of risking it all, no chute, no cord, not caring how it ended because in under five minutes she’d see him again, hear him, touch, smell and taste him ... She had no idea how he was gonna get here by then, but?—

Passing overhead was a familiar sonic nuisance she typically ignored. But this time, she looked up.

A helicopter. Flew right down the street and landed on the rooftop of his hotel.

“Oh.” Heart? Pounding. Knees? Wobbling. Thong? Not very absorbent. “Wow.”

It was just as Sever promised. By the time she entered the hotel, Terrell was there with his sharp suit and his earpiece, waiting near the VIP elevator.

Ivy took a deep breath and traversed the lobby like she belonged there.

When she stood at his side, looking up at the elevator arrows, Terrell slipped her a golden keycard and murmured, “Penthouse. Top floor.”

She pressed PH. “Please tell me he doesn’t make you stand here until...”

“No one makes me do anything. This job is a choice.”

“That’s not what I—sorry, I just...”

He angled his phone at her, open to an audiobook of The World We Make . “I’m good. I’ll be right over there on that couch, watching the elevators.”

It took her a second to realize that the thing he’d be watching out for was Jason. Sever had covered all the bases, including this one, and now she was fearful of it, too: what if Jason—or more likely, Kara—had hired someone to follow her? What if he found out she was here? Hopefully he had no way of getting to the penthouse suite without this golden ticket, but still...

“Thank you,” she said, but Terrell didn’t answer, just walked away. She wondered if he was quietly judging her. She wouldn’t blame him. She was a wanton hussy, after all. Her face warmed.

—Naughty little cheat.

Maybe Sever would call her that again. A naughty little cheat who deserved to be spanked and fucked for hours. Or maybe he’d call her his good girl, Daddy’s favorite, who deserved to be treated like a princess. Either one would work. The elevator whizzed up like a bullet, and with each passing floor she got hornier at the thought.

It opened to a single door marked PH. She keyed herself in, and walked into a page out of Architectural Digest. High vaulted ceilings, walls of windows on either side. The interior design was minimalist, but there were warm accents throughout.

“It’s odd,” Sever said, and she turned to see him framed in a doorway, one pale blue shirttail untucked, two buttons undone at his chest. He wasn’t looking at her, but at his fingers scraping at the doorframe. “You make me nervous.”

She took off her sunglasses. “Me?”

“I was gonna meet you at the lift all bare-chested Casanova,” he nodded toward the elevator, “but then I thought, ‘Is that too much? Will she think it’s silly?’”

Chin down, he raised a brow at her.

Ivy shrugged off her bag, then her jacket, and walked towards him. Sever had no idea that his insecurity was just as sexy as his confidence—if not moreso. It was a reaction to her as a person, not a conquest. As an equal, even. She knew his darkest secrets, and while he may have thought this revealed a weakling behind the curtain, all it did for her was make him human. Real. And kind of amazing.

Looking into his eyes, she unbuttoned his shirt all the way and peeled it down to his elbows. Lightly, she ran a palm over his chest and said, “Nope. Not silly.”

With an intake of breath, their mouths met.

The sex was intense. More intense than ever. There were no words, no props, no roleplay—it was just him and her, stripped naked, on a bed, warm breath mingling, bodies entwined.

Ivy lost track of time and space and everything but the deep-down ache he massaged so well. Release wasn’t the point—it was the way he felt inside of her, around her, with her.

It was a leisurely climb up the ecstasy ladder, and when she realized she was one rung shy of the top, she stayed put to prolong that giddy sensation of Almost .

The rhythm of their breathing slowed and synched. She felt his heart pulse on her chest. She became so sensitive, she thought she might laugh or cry, or both.

He straightened his arms to rise above her and, whether it was the angle change or the way he looked at her, she slipped off the ecstasy diving board into an unexpected free fall, and began to come.

Which was okay, she told herself, she could start all over again once she hit the water. Sever wasn’t in any hurry; sun hadn’t gone down yet, there was still time. Relax. Savor. Be here now.

At that thought, the pool below her curiously disappeared and gave way to infinite space.

She’d had a lot of orgasms in her life. Sometimes several in one sitting, some in rapid succession. Some took a moment to crest. But all of them ended .

This did not.

It just kept coming . Whenever she was sure she peaked, she peaked even more . Ivy wasn’t falling, she was rising—going up on a rogue elevator, smashing through ceiling after ceiling after ceiling...

Heartbeat thumping in her solar plexus, Ivy whined, writhed, pulsed and overflowed like the Trevi—endlessly. Through it all, Sever steadily rocked his torso, watching her as though she was under his command. He’d somehow enthralled her in an indefinite, relentless state of pleasure...

Out of her mind, she ran her feet over his hips, up and down his thighs, clawed his biceps, thrashed her head. It was exquisite, it was maddening. She wanted it to keep going, she wanted it to end, she wanted time to stop right here so she could die in this moment forever.

She let out a throaty, drawn-out wail as she hit a preternatural high.

Watching her, Sever convulsed and moaned and convulsed again, groaning as he filled her up.

She wriggled beneath him, tried to speak but it came across as hot breath and consonants. Still coming. So good. Oh god. Help.

Rousing from his own pleasure, he noticed, “Oh. You’re still...?”

“Yhh...”

“Feet.” He sat up, determined. “On my chest.”

“Huh?” Words had ceased to make sense.

He brought her feet to his chest and bore forward until he was so deep she could hardly breathe. Then, he curled his pelvis up, depressed the heel of his palm firmly on her mons, and Ivy shrieked as she reached the top floor: outer fucking space.

It was a place she had never, ever been before.

Staring at him in disbelief, she could only hyperventilate. “Wh... H...”

He smiled at her, reached for his phone at the bedside and said into it, “Bring us a little bit of everything.”