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It’s been an evening of bonding for us, and as we get into the truck to head home after spending nearly two hours at the rink, I can’t help but feel less nervous and more ready for what comes next.

CHAPTER 25: Ivy Maddox

Lesson One

He puts the car in park and cuts the engine in the garage, and then he clicks the button to lower it. He stays in his seat a beat, though, and I feel like he’s not ready to get out of the truck and head inside.

He draws in a deep breath, and then he turns to look at me. “Thanks for tonight, Ivy. It…it was something I didn’t even know I needed.”

“I should be thanking you,” I say softly. “It was your date idea. Thanks for letting me in. Thanks for the tour and the skating lessons.”

“That’ll be one twenty, by the way,” he teases.

“A hundred and twenty bucks for one skating lesson?” I demand.

“That’s the discounted rate for being my hot wife.”

I laugh. “Well, thanks for the discount. But just for the record, Everleigh charges clients at her rate, so I won’t be able to extend the same discount even though you, too, are quite hot.”

As he moves to get out of the car, my heart starts to race.

It feels like a natural progression. I know he said he’s not having sex with me until I beg, and after tonight, I feel closer to him. Like I want to beg. Like I want this to be it.

My first time.

I’m ready. The anticipation has been building all night, and it feels like it’s about to come to a head right here, right now.

He holds the door open to let me into the house via the laundry room, the gentleman I didn’t ask for as usual, and I step through. The moment he’s through and the door latches shut behind him, I turn around, and I move until he’s pushed up against that same door.

I tilt my chin up, and I press my breasts to his chest as the front sides of our bodies align. His eyes fall down to mine, and his are dark with lust and need—the same as mine, I’m sure.

His eyes flick down to my mouth, and he moves to drop his lips to mine. I thread one hand around his neck as the other lands on his waist.

His mouth opens as his arms come around me, and he kisses me with urgency, with need—with everything that was stored up in his eyes before he started kissing me. And I kiss back with that same urgency, with all the need I’ve stored up all these years as I waited for the right man to come along, for someone who sparked my interest and held it for longer than thirty seconds.

And here we are. He’s my husband—maybe not in the traditional way, but the more time I spend with him, the more I think that maybe we could get there.

I pull back, feeling woozy, and his eyes are hazy with need.

“Please, Cash,” I whisper. “I’m begging you. Please.”

“Please what?” he asks, giving me that same smirk he always gives me—the one that makes my already wet pussy freaking drenched for him.

“Please take me to bed.”

“Are you tired?” he asks softly. He’s playing with me. He knows what I want.

I shake my head and bite my lip.

“Then tell me what you want.”

Make love sounds too cheesy, but fuck sounds too rough for what I want him to do to me.

I want him to be gentle and to take care of me, but I also want him to show me pleasure like I’ve never known, to take my body to the edge and push me over into this new abyss. And on the flipside, I want to see him fall apart, to watch as he comes undone because of me.

I force the words even though my cheeks burn as I say them. “I want you inside me. I want to have sex with you. I want to give you my virginity, and I want you to give me the hottest, most intense orgasm of my life in exchange for it.”

His lips curl up. “Good girl. I like when you tell me what you want.”