Chapter 87: You Feel Too Damn Good
Ivy’s climax ripped through her, her body clenching around him so hard she saw stars behind her eyelids. She cried out, nails sinking into his shoulders, her hips jerking as every nerve in her body lit up.
"Fuck—fuck, that’s it, baby," Winn groaned. He pulled her tight against him, his own rhythm faltering as she pulsed around him. "Jesus!"
She buried her face in his neck, gasping his name over and over, trembling in his arms.
Winn’s hands were brutal on her hips, guiding her, forcing her to keep riding him. His eyes locked onto hers when she finally lifted her head, wet strands of hair sticking to her flushed cheeks. The intensity in his gaze pinned her down harder than his grip.
"You want me to lose it inside you?"
Her lips trembled. "Yes."
Winn snarled and slammed up into her, his cock driving deep, hitting a spot that made her scream. His head fell back, teeth gritted, and then he was gone—his body shuddering violently as release overtook him.
His roar was raw, vibrating against her chest as he emptied himself inside her. His hips bucked as if he wanted to fuse them together, to never let go. "You feel too damn good."
She clung to him, gasping, feeling the hot flood of his orgasm fill her, each pulse of him inside her making her shiver. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush against his chest, his breath ragged in her ear.
When the last wave crashed through him, Winn collapsed back into the chair, dragging her with him. She sat straddled over him, both of them panting, drenched in sweat, trembling from the intensity.
His forehead rested against hers, their noses brushing. His hand caressed her thigh absentmindedly.
"You’ll be the death of me."
Ivy chuckled softly. She shifted against him, feeling his cock soften inside her. Her thighs trembled as she started to rise.
Just as her knee brushed the edge of the chair, a sharp knock rattled the door. Ivy froze mid-motion.
"Oh, shit!" she hissed, fumbling blindly for her underwear on the floor. Her face flushed hot with post-orgasmic haze. If anyone saw her like this—hair wild, cheeks crimson, blouse half open—she might actually combust on the spot.
Winn’s brow arched lazily. "Are you expecting someone?"
"No," Ivy muttered. "Could you get the door? I’ll... I’ll go freshen up."
Winn smirked at her urgency. Tugging his pants up, he adjusted himself. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping the remnants of their passion from his pants before zipping up.
When Winn finally strode to the door and pulled it open, his expression instantly hardened, all lazy intimacy stripped away.
Standing there, bouquet in hand was Steve. The man had yet another bunch of flowers—sunflowers this time, bright and cheerful. Did this man own a florist shop or what?
Winn’s gaze flicked from the blossoms to Steve’s tentative smile, and the corner of his mouth curved in sardonic amusement. Flowers? Cute. I brought her a goddamn Escalade. Beat that, florist boy. But then again, he knew better. Ivy wasn’t a woman bought by horsepower. She lit up at small things—thoughtful things.
And Winn, with a pang of realization, marked it in his head: Set up a monthly flower delivery subscription.
Steve, shifting awkwardly, cleared his throat. "Hi..." His eyes darted between Winn’s broad frame filling the doorway. "Uh... You are Ivy’s boss, right?"
"Yes," Winn replied flatly. He didn’t move, didn’t smile, didn’t so much as tilt his head. Just stood there.
Steve’s hand tightened on the bouquet. "What... what are you doing here?"
Winn cocked his head slightly, his eyes narrowing just enough to make the question sound laughable. "I could ask you the same question."
"She is my girlfriend," Steve blurted out.
Winn’s lips curved slowly, dangerously, "And she is my fiancée." The claim rolled off his tongue as if it were carved into law, leaving no room for argument.
Steve’s eyes widened, the confidence in his posture faltering. "What? That’s... that’s not possible. Where is she?"
Winn leaned a shoulder lazily against the doorframe, oozing arrogance. His gaze dipped, assessing Steve. Then, with a smirk that dripped with deliberate cruelty, he said, "She’s in the shower. I kind of messed her up a little bit. You know how it is?"
He knew it was petty. Hell, it was downright vicious. But watching Steve’s face crumble under the weight of those words? The smugness in Winn’s smile grew. "Now, if you’ll excuse me..." He leaned in just a fraction, lowering his voice into a mocking drawl. "...I’ve got some shower sex to get back to."
And with that, he closed the door firmly in Steve’s stunned face.
Turning away, Winn’s strides were confident, his jaw tight with victory. He felt the rush of adrenaline from marking his territory.
He strolled back into the living room, his eyes immediately drawn to Ivy who was just coming out f the bedroom. A towel wrapped snugly around her body.
"Who was that?" Ivy asked, brows knitting as she adjusted the towel tighter around her chest.
"Uh..." Winn’s mouth quirked. "That was your ex-boyfriend. Who, for some reason, still introduced himself as your current boyfriend."
Ivy’s lips parted in a small sigh of resignation. "Steve is persistent."
"Persistent?" Winn echoed, his brow rising in sharp accusation. "Yeah... persistent because you didn’t tell him you’re engaged."
"I haven’t had the opportunity to."
His eyes narrowed, flaring in suspicion. "Is that why you haven’t been wearing your engagement ring?"
Ivy’s mind scrambled for excuses, for reasons that didn’t sound as hollow as they felt. The truth was messier: she hadn’t worn it because the weight of it scared her.
Winn studied her, his jaw clenched, his eyes shadowed by frustration, of course. But beneath it—a fear he would never admit aloud. Fear that she might never fully belong to him.
"No..." Ivy started.
"You want to be available for as long as you can, uhn?" Winn stepped closer.
"What... what are you talking about?" She hugged the towel tighter to her chest, trying to create a barrier between them.