He knew from the catch in her voice and the false bravado that that particular conversation wasn't over, but he didn't want to push her. Scars were personal things. Too personal to discuss while half-naked on a couch, at least until they got to know each other a little better. He wanted to laugh at the thought of it being easier to sleep together than talk about her scars or why tattoos covered every part of him that Anna had touched.
But if she wanted to be distracted, he wanted to distract her. A hint of nerves still tightened the skin around her eyes, so he took his time. Kissed her until she melted and sighed under him, until her arm drifted around his neck to pull him close, until her hips rolled against him in invitation. Edgar didn't stop kissing her as he squeezed her breast, rewarded with a sharp gasp, but he carried on leisurely. Her nails left furrows in his sides as he nibbled his way down her throat, across her collarbone, down to her nipple.
Ivy moaned as he licked and sucked on the hardened bud, gripping his hair with surprising strength. He tweaked one with his fingers as he bit the other and she went rigid, eyes wide. The lion loved that expression. Loved the sounds she made and the way her skin smelled like desire. He wanted to see her sweat. Wanted to hear her climax, preferably with her thighs wrapped around his neck.
He took his time, despite his dick pressing painfully against his jeans, until she begged him for more. The lion wanted to spread her out on his bed and strip her down so he could touch all of her. Edgar tugged at the front of her jeans and murmured, "Are you ready for stage three?"
"Finally," she said. She tugged at his belt. "Let's go."
"Not so fast." Edgar captured her hands. "We're taking our time, Ivy."
"Why?" She leaned up and kissed him, quick — the first time she'd initiated. "I just want —"
"Because it's worth waiting for. I promise." He shoved to his feet before he ended up letting her take off his belt and discover where his tattoos ended, and picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder as he walked into the bedroom. He hadn't bothered to make his bed before they left for the Auction, but he didn't care as he placed her on the rumpled sheets. Less work to do.
Edgar's knee indented the mattress next to her thigh as he leaned down and unbuttoned her jeans, working the zipper as he watched her expression. She watched his hands, holding her breath, and lifted her hips so he could drag the jeans away. He stood back, gently squeezing her ankle as he surveyed her. Soft curves, the gentle swell of her hips, the pink panties with a bow on the waist, a line of marks on her thigh that could have been cuts or injections or any number of things. He didn't care. “Stage three."
She sighed and folded her hands over her stomach, almost prim as she watched him stand between her feet at the end of the bed. He laughed, then patted her hip. "Scoot back a little."
"What is stage three, exactly?" she asked, though she wiggled back on his bed until she lay on the pillows. Watching him with those big eyes.
"I get to kiss you somewhere else," Edgar said. A question formed on her lips until he stroked the inside of her thigh, then her cheeks flamed and her eyes got wider still. He chuckled and knelt between her feet, easing her legs apart until he could see all of her. Only the thin cotton of her panties separated him from her sex, but the heady scent of her desire curled through his brain.
Edgar toyed with the lace and cotton, then drew the scrap of fabric down her long legs. She giggled in a breathy rush, staring at him as he studied her. He loved the sounds she made, particularly the gasp when he nibbled on the soft inside of her thigh. The stubble on his jaw made her jump, and she grabbed double fistfuls of the sheets. Her breasts rose and fell faster as he worked his way to the apex of her thighs, licking and kissing and tasting every inch of her.
Ivy's head fell back on the pillows and her back arched when he finally kissed right above her clit. She sighed his name and it shot through him in a lightning rush. He tasted her, dipped lower, took his time. Worked her over with his mouth until she moaned and her hips rolled to meet him. She looked amazing, sprawled across his bed, and Edgar fought the urge to strip down and join her in ecstasy.
Her abs tensed as he teased her entrance, stroking gently as he sucked the hard nub that made her cry out, and Edgar eased the tip of his finger inside her. Moved inside her with a gentle rocking that she met eagerly, her fingers sliding into his hair to drag his face against her pussy.
He wanted it to last forever. Wanted to lay there all night and watch her thrash around, watch her come and know he was the one who did it. Wanted to taste her again and again, to touch the slippery flesh of her sex, explore her body and make every possible experience amazing. Show her how desperately wonderful intimacy could be.
But she came in a flash, going rigid under his careful manipulation, then bucked and cried out and touched her breasts. He didn't back off, driving her through the climax as her muscles tightened around his fingers, tried to drag him closer, and gently coaxed her into another. And another. Until she lay boneless and covered in sweat, tangled in him and his sheets, panting for breath.
Only then did he slide up her body to lay next to her, glad he kept his pants on because the temptation to fit himself to her only increased with the wanton abandon of her pleasure. He couldn't wait to finally enter her, to lose himself in the tight heat of her body. Edgar bit back a groan as his palm drifted over her breast and rested against her ribs, counting her racing heartbeats. "Doing okay?"
"Better than okay," she sighed. She stretched, languid, and patted low on his stomach, close to where his dick tried to punch through his jeans. "Your turn?"
"You don't have to do anything," he said, even though just the thought of walking away from her soft hands and softer lips took a year off his life. "I just like to watch you."
She looked at him from under her eyelashes, her expression a blend of coy innocence and lust, and he groaned. Ivy tugged at his belt once more. "Isn't that part of stage three? Or is that four?"
He was lost. Utterly lost. Edgar held his breath as she unbuckled his belt and worked at the button, then exhaled in a gust. "I have no idea what stage. None."
"Good." Ivy sat up, glorious in her nakedness, and her hand slid inside his jeans. Inside his briefs until she found his cock and his hips moved in a slow thrust against her palm. Her eyes widened and her hand tightened around him.
Edgar swallowed a curse and lifted his hips so she could drag his jeans off. The lion grumbled, wanting everything to move faster, but he held on to the mattress so he wouldn't grab her and roll her under him. Ivy traced the lines of a tattoo across his abs and down the cut of muscle to his groin. His cock twitched as her wrist brushed it, and Ivy bit her lip as she considered the thick head and the bead of liquid that appeared on the tip. He took a deep breath and released part of his death-grip on the sheets, captured her hand with his, and helped her grip his shaft. He clenched his jaw at her soft touch, the whisper of a stroke, and tightened his hold around her hand until she moved and his hips moved to meet her. Edgar grumbled and thrust against her hand again as Ivy grew bolder, teasing the tip of his cock with her fingers, and he groaned. "That's it. A little faster."
Pleasure short-circuited his brain as her grip tightened, telescoped, and his fingers bit into the mattress to keep him from moving. He didn't want to startle her. And not just because he wouldn't finish if she got scared. He didn't want fear between them. Edgar took a breath to suggest she go faster still but paused when she stopped entirely. He lifted his head to look at her and his entire body jerked as she licked the head of his cock. He cursed as she sucked the tip into her mouth and stroked him at the same time, and pressure gathered in his balls.
Ivy sucked him, paused to lick the full length of his cock, her dark eyes watching his expression as he watched her, and Edgar felt the orgasm coming like a freight train. She murmured, "Is this okay?"
"Don't stop." He couldn't think. Couldn't feel anything except the wet pressure of her mouth and the soft give of her breasts against his thighs as they tensed. As his hips moved in short, jerky thrusts that she met and conquered. Edgar took a breath to warn her, but painful pleasure spiked in his back and he came in a rush, spending himself in her mouth as his cock slipped in her soft hands.
Ivy coughed, jerking back, and the last jet of his climax landed on his stomach. Edgar tried to think through the static in his brain, all of his attention still on his dick, and held out a hand to her. "Sorry, couldn't —"
He jumped as something warm and wet touched his softening cock, and he looked up in time to see Ivy licking his body clean. It was almost enough to get him hard again. Edgar caught her face and dragged her up to lay next to him, kissing her again before drawing the sheets and comforter up and over them. "Thank you."
"You're sure it was okay?"
"It was more than okay," he said, then spooned her close until he could smell her hair, tangled on his pillow. "It was amazing."
She yawned and wiggled, getting comfortable, then her breathing slowed and deepened. Before he could say anything else, she slept. The lion purred, content for the time being. He still wanted to mark her, to claim her. Edgar could wait. A couple days, maybe. He didn't stay awake much past her, though he liked listening to her breathe.
She left some time in the night, maybe around three, and though Edgar sat up to ask her to stay, she slipped through the door before he could shake away sleep. He stared into the dark for a long time, wondering whether it was a sign of things to come.