Chapter 77: We Really Are Doing This
"So it’s just us up here?" she asked, glancing around. The rooftop was serene—no waiters hovering, no music except the hum of the city below, and the faint scent of roses drifting from planters arranged around the terrace.
"Yeah," Winn replied, settling into his chair. "I’ll call them when we’re ready to eat."
"We really are doing this, uhn?"
"I think I’m more nervous than you are." He exhaled and gave her a smile that looked almost boyish, so different from the polished, untouchable man he presented to the world. "Still afraid something is going to go wrong."
"Why?" she asked softly, curiosity pricking at her.
Winn sighed heavily, leaning back against his chair. "Uh...let’s not talk about that." His gaze shifted. He cleared his throat. "What kind of wedding do you want?"
She hesitated, surprised by the sudden pivot. "Uh...I think a small one. Family, close friends. Something...intimate."
"Whatever you want," he said immediately, and there was no mistaking the sincerity in his voice.
"What do you want, Winn?" Ivy asked, leaning forward, not letting him get away with being evasive again.
"You," he answered without missing a beat.
"I’m serious. Come on." She tried to keep her voice playful.
"Fine," he said after a beat, reaching for the champagne. He poured into both their glasses, the golden liquid fizzing. "I...I want to be a good father. A great husband. I want to experience what it feels like to truly, truly be happy in a family."
Ivy’s lips softened into a smile. "It’s an honourable want," she said gently. But because the moment felt too heavy, she decided to tease him, to shift the balance.
Biting her lip mischievously, she slipped off her heels under the table. Winn’s brow furrowed briefly, curious at her sudden movement. She leaned back in her chair as if nothing were happening, eyes locked on his, and stretched her toes out until they brushed the fabric of his pants. Slowly, she ran her foot along his calf, then higher, teasing.
Winn froze mid-sip, the champagne glass halting just before his lips. His eyes darkened instantly, flicking down to the edge of the table as if he could see what she was doing beneath it. His jaw ticked, and when his gaze lifted back to her, it burned with a heat that made Ivy’s stomach flutter with both thrill and wicked satisfaction.
Winn held her gaze, those beautiful eyes locking onto hers. "What are you doing?" he asked.
Ivy tilted her head with a sly smile. "You do like to ask that, don’t you?" Her voice was velvet mischief, making her toes glide deliberately along the outline of his erection beneath the fabric of his trousers.
"I like to have all the information available to me," he murmured.
"Well," she said sweetly, leaning forward just enough for her breath to ghost over the rim of her champagne glass, "how are you going to be a good father if you aren’t a great lover first?" She winked.
"Sweetie, don’t test me. I’ll take you right here, right now, for all the world to see."
Ivy’s heart raced at his words. She smirked, pressing her toes firmer against his hardening length. "Maybe that’s exactly what I want," she purred.
That was it. Winn took a long gulp of champagne, as if gathering the last thread of control before it snapped, then set the glass down with a sharp clink against the table. Without another word, he rose to his feet.
He stalked toward her, each step predatory. Ivy’s smirk flickered as he reached her chair. In one swift motion, he yanked her to her feet, the chair scraping back against the tiles. She gave a small gasp that turned into a breathless laugh as he spun her around and pressed her hands firmly to the cool iron banisters that framed the rooftop. The city stretched out before them—glittering lights, the hum of cars below, the endless night sky wrapping them in secrecy and spectacle all at once.
"You know what you do to me, don’t you?" Winn growled into her ear, his breath hot against her neck as his body pinned hers against the railing. His hands slid down her arms.
"Yes," Ivy whispered.
Winn chuckled darkly, pressing his hips against her, letting her feel exactly how much he wanted her.
His hands roamed, tugging at her dress, exposing smooth thighs to the cool night air. She gasped as the fabric rode up, her body both craving and trembling under his control. Winn’s lips found the tender spot below her ear, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, while his hands parted her legs wider against the railing.
"God, you’re trouble," he muttered against her skin.
She moaned when his fingers teased the lace between her thighs.
With one hand, he shoved her dress higher, bunching the silk at her waist, and with the other, he hooked his fingers into her panties and tore them aside. The sound of fabric straining made Ivy’s pulse spike, her breath catching at the sudden exposure.
Winn quickly made quick work of his zipper.
"Winn—" she gasped, but her protest melted into a moan as the thick length of him pressed against her folds.
"I warned you," he growled, grinding against her, teasing her entrance until she squirmed.
She tilted her hips back, guiding him where she wanted him most.
He thrust inside her with one smooth, claiming stroke, burying himself deep. Ivy cried out.
"Fuck," Winn hissed, gripping her hips so tight it bordered on bruising. "You feel like you were made for me."
Ivy pushed back against him, urging him deeper.
He obliged. He pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in, the impact jolting through her body. Again and again, his hips drove against hers, relentless, urgent.
Every thrust sent sparks of white-hot pleasure ricocheting through Ivy’s core. Her moans grew louder, no longer restrained, and she didn’t care who might hear. The risk, the exposure, only made her wetter, hungrier.
"Look at you," Winn rasped, leaning forward to kiss the back of her neck, his teeth scraping her skin. "Taking me like this...on a rooftop, where anyone could walk in."