CHAPTER 217: I STILL DON’T HAVE PROTECTION

Winn stood there for a moment longer, staring at the doorway long after it closed. He knew—deep in the marrow of his bones—that he was doing the right thing. He had to keep her safe. He’d already lost a daughter. He refused to lose Ivy.

If distance would protect her, then he’d carve that distance himself, even if it split him open.

He finally turned and trudged up the stairs. In his room, he peeled off his T-shirt, tossing it carelessly onto the chair.

He picked up his phone from the bedside table when the soft click of the bedroom door opening made him freeze.

He turned.

Ivy stood there—right there—framed by the doorway, tears still streaming down her face.

She set down her bag slowly. Then she walked toward him with purposeful, determined strides.

"Ivy..." Winn whispered. But the words dried up in his throat, disintegrated by shock and want and the impossible reality standing in front of him.

Because she reached up, rose onto her toes, and kissed him.

Her mouth crashed into his, desperate and angry and grieving and hungry all at once. Winn staggered back a step, stunned, but his shock melted within seconds.

His hands found her waist on instinct, dragging her closer as if his body had been starving for her touch.

She was a whirlwind and they both had to tumble onto the bed, her on top of him, breath mingling, hearts crashing.

"Babe..." Winn pulled away from her, breath ragged. His heartbeat thundered beneath her palms. His restraint was a thin, fraying thread. Every inch of him screamed to take her, touch her, drag her under, drown with her.

But his mind—what little of it he could still hear—whispered one thing: If this goes any further, he won’t be able to protect her. He had already lost too much. One more mistake could cost him everything.

She cupped his jaw, her thumb brushing across the corner of his mouth. "If this is it..." she began, "then I need you to fuck me like you never have before."

Heat slammed into his spine, shooting straight to his cock.

"I still don’t have protection," he managed.

"I don’t care." She answered without hesitation, eyes locked onto his.

Winn didn’t hesitate after that. He pulled her down on him and kissed her once more—this one deeper, messier. His hands slid to her shoulders, fingers skilled and eager as he shrugged her coat off and down her arms, letting it fall to the floor.

Ivy ground herself on his now quite solid cock shooting up through his shorts and moaned loud. God, that sound... it undid him every damn time. It vibrated through his bones, twisted around his spine, and set every nerve ending on fire.

His hands roamed down her body slowly—as if reacquainting himself with land he had once owned but lost in a war he never understood.

He reached the edge of her dress and pulled it up, higher and higher, until her underwear was exposed and his control tore a little more.

Ivy broke the kiss only to press her mouth to his neck, her lips trailing warmth, her tongue setting fire down his chest to his stomach and then lower.

Her tongue dancing around his cock through his shorts made him curse under his breath, gripping her hips harder than he intended. He felt his pulse pounding in places that had no business having a pulse.

He yanked her back up and turned them around in one swift movement, rolling until he hovered over her, bracing himself with an arm by her head.

"I haven’t had sex in over a year," he said. "You touch me, I die."

He pulled down her underwear slowly, dragging the fabric down her thighs.

Winn hovered over her once more. His face was strained, jaw tight, sweat-sheened muscles trembling as if he was at war with himself. "This isn’t going to last long, Ivy. I’m sorry."

"Make it count." She said.

"Always." He gazed right into her eyes, two haunted souls locked together with no walls, no breathing room. His fingers slid down her soft skin.

Then he slid his finger inside her wetness. Ivy cried out at the welcome intrusion, her hips jerking upward on instinct.

His breath stuttered. God, the sound she made—it hit him low and hard. Then he added another finger, stretching her, filling her, curving just right, coaxing unspeakable pleasure from her. Her thighs trembled around him.

Still he held her gaze, refusing to let her look away, both of them looking into each other’s souls.

"I need you to cum, babe. I need you to." He urged her.

Ivy nodded her head and settled into the feeling, arching her back slightly, surrendering to the building wave. His fingers worked their magic, circling, stroking, plunging in perfect rhythm.

Her breath turned into little gasps, her lashes fluttering, her thighs clenching around his hand. Her mouth dropped open as she began to ride his fingers, chasing oblivion, chasing release.

Her fingers wrapped around his arm, nails digging into his skin as she screamed her release into the room.

Winn’s lips parted in pure awe. She was beautiful when she shattered. "Good girl." Winn said.

Then he pulled down his shorts, his cock hard and heavy. He willed himself to stay in control. His muscles trembled from wanting her too much. Then he slid into her.

Ivy cried out again, back arching sharply, her nails now digging into his back. Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him closer, tighter, as if she could fuse them together if she tried hard enough. Winn groaned into her neck.

"Winn..." she whispered.

Winn grunted and paused as she squeezed him hard. His entire body went rigid—spine tightening, arms shaking as he braced himself above her.

He thought of anything, everything besides how good it felt to be inside her—tax audits, the geopolitical instability of the Middle East—anything to keep from exploding embarrassingly fast. Anything at all.