Page 59 of Play the Last Card

Ivy is all curves, tempting and bathed in soft light.

Her bedside lamp is on and it’s casting the same shadows across her bedroom I’d seen in the picture she’d sent me a few weeks ago. It’s so pink if it was anyone else’s it might actually hurt to look at but now all I see is Ivy.

Soft, sweet, football hating Ivy.

“Scott,” she whispers, looking up at me from where she props herself up on her elbows on the bed. I realize I’ve just been staring at her for a beat.

“Sorry.” I lean down, my fingers trailing down her body and finding the waistband of her jeans. I hook my fingers under it and follow the band until I reach the button, popping it open and sliding the zipper down.

I don’t rush, slowly pushing her jeans over her hips and ass as I suck along the column of her neck. She stretches her head to the side to give me more access.

When I get her jeans to her knees, I stand back up to my full height over her. Her eyes flash with heat and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth again as I pull her jeans off completely and toss them behind me.

I almost laugh because when I look down at her, all I see are her pretty, lace pink panties. So fucking her.

Ivy doesn’t miss my smirk. “What?”

I trace the edge of the pink lace, around the curve of her hip and down her thigh, gently brushing over her center. She’s wet. I can feel it through the lace.

My cock twitches again, reminding me that I want to be inside her. Badly.

I stroke her lace covered center gently and Ivy’s breath hitches.

“Your panties are pink. Your room is pink.” I press my thumb to her clit through the fabric. “You match.” I can’t help laughing at her small groan as my thumb rubs slow, gentle circles over her clit. She wriggles beneath me, trying to create more friction.

She wants to get off.

I take my hand away, laughing lightly when she whimpers a weak protest but it’s silenced when I reach behind me to pull my hoodie and t-shirt off in one go. I drop them to the floor with her jeans and crawl over her body.

I trail a palm over each of her thighs, massaging her curves as I go. Reveling in the feel of her soft body. Fuck she feels good. It makes me want to see how many positions I can hold her in. How many times I can make her thighs shake as she comes.

I wonder if they shake. Maybe, the muscles in them tighten.

I want to find it all out now.

When I reach her hips, I push her body up the bed. She goes easily, fully pliant to my wordless command.

I hook my fingers around the lace of her panties and pull them down her legs too.

They make it to the pile of clothes.

Pink against the navy blue of my own jumper.

I hum as I settle between her legs, hooking my hands under her thighs and tugging until I’m inches from her bare pussy. “You even have a pretty pink pussy.”

Then I dive in. Licking, and sucking, and kissing her clit.

Ivy squirms under me, her moans coming easily now. I revel at the fact I’m the one pulling those sounds from her.

“God,” she moans. “Fuck. Shit.”

She lets me eat her out for a whole minute before her hands are in my hair again, directing me gently to where she wants—needs—my tongue. I let her. I let her show me where she needs the pressure, the friction.

When I flick her clit with my tongue before pulling it gently between my lips and sucking, she bucks against my face.

“Is that good, baby?” I ask, pulling away to stroke her opening. She’s soaking, my finger wet instantly. When she doesn’t reply, I press my thumb to her clit, making her jolt again.

Her eyes snap open and meet mine.