17. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Holland

I flip pancakes on the gas griddle, while the bacon pops and sizzles. I'm almost done making breakfast and the next thing on my list is cutting up fruit for our make-shift mimosa bar. It's not something I've ever done, or ever mentioned, so Ivy's wide eyes when I brought it up wasn't super surprising. A mimosa bar is always a hit at the lodge.

We have two juice options—orange and cranberry—with strawberries and pineapple for a garnish. I found Hazel's champagne flutes, the ones she was gifted when she signed the paperwork to become the owner of The Emerald Canopy Lodge. Like Ivy, she loved bubbly wine and anything with champagne. My chest squeezes thinking about how her eyes sparkled when she opened the flutes up.

I pop the cork for the second bottle of champagne, the first already gone. I look over to see Ivy's face pink, the way it gets whenever she drinks. She's sitting with Slate looking outside the floor to ceiling window. We can make out the patio furniture by the tops of the chairs, but the amount of snow is startling. The official total is fourteen inches during the last twelve hours.

"Why aren't you working on that puzzle?" I ask.

"I can't find any more edge pieces! You're better at it than me." She laughs as I fill her empty flute with champagne, leaving a little room for juice. She chooses cranberry this time, and adds just a splash, before taking a long sip.

Slate gets up from the kitchen floor and lays in his bed in the living room.

"Guess Slate has had enough." She shrugs and then lifts her flute to me, in a cheers. I clink my glass with hers and take a sip of my mimosa.

Ivy sits back and starts to giggle. "I'm a little buzzed," she says, like it's a secret.

"Your face gives you away." I point at her cheeks.

"It does not!" She places her hands on her face, checking for warmth. Even if she can't feel it, I know it's there. "Oh my gosh, do you remember the first night I was here? And I fell in the shower?" She loudly claps her hands and doubles over in laughter.

How could I ever forget? A drunk Ivy, in my shower, and all I heard was a loud noise. I thought she had cracked her head open. But no, she just was in there, laughing her ass off, talking about how baby giraffes walk when they're born.

"I will never forget that moment in my life. You compared yourself to a baby giraffe."

Ivy keeps laughing; her shoulders shake, and it's contagious. We're both in the kitchen, taking drinks of our mimosas, trying not to spill. I can't even look over at her or I'm going to completely come unhinged.

"I wanted you so bad that night," she says, catching me off guard.

"Just that night?" I poke back, standing in front of her.

"You know I want you every night." She grabs my shirt and pulls me closer to her, wearing a devilish grin. Her green eyes are on me and my dick twitches in response .

I reach down, to under her arms, and pick her up. She laughs as she's on her feet. When she wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me, she tastes like cranberry juice. Her lips, soft, kiss me in a way that's hungry—feverish. I wrap my hands around her low back and she jumps up, putting her legs around my waist.

She laughs when I turn and then set her ass on the counter.

"Ooh, you're good at that," she says, while leaning her arms back on the kitchen counter.

"If we want to go down memory lane, do you remember when I surprised you in New York and we made peanut butter scones?" I step into the space between her legs, which are dangling in front of the cabinets.

Ivy throws her head back in a laugh. "Of course I remember. We had sex in my kitchen," she says, to prove her point.

I hook my fingers in the waist band of her leggings and start to pull them off. Ivy bites her lip and helps me take them off. Her panties, red and lacy, are on full display.

"Like what you see?" she asks. I love when she's like this—bold, confident.

"Like isn't the right word," I say as I find her mouth with mine. I then kiss from her jaw to her ear. Ivy moans when I find her sweet spot, the one she loves for me to kiss. I grab her legs and pull her a little closer to the edge.

Hitching one of her legs, I kiss from the inside of her knee, all the way up her thigh. I get to where there's only a little spot of skin before where her panties start and I switch legs, this time kissing down.

"I love when you tease me," she says, watching me with those fiercely green eyes.

I push my erection into her, letting her feel how much I love teasing her. After a few times, and hearing her whimper with each touch through her panties, I take a step back. Ivy's chest rapidly rises and falls, her breath shallow.

I put my hands on the tops of her thighs, before walking one hand to the edge of her panties. I look up to see Ivy watching me. Using a finger, I pull the lace fabric to the side and slip a finger inside, her arousal coating my fingers.

"These panties are awfully wet, Ivy," I say, teasing her in a way that I love.

"You should take them off," she suggests.

So, that's what I do. And then it's just her on our counter and it's torture to not be touching her the way I know she wants to be touched.

I take my mouth and put it close to her clit, and lightly blow. She groans as she throws her head back, still leaning on her elbows, truly an elite way to see her.

First, I slowly kiss the apex of her thighs, adding in a soft bite or two. She wriggles underneath my touch. I delicately rub the inside of her legs, getting my hands closer and closer to her entrance, but still holding out.

"I need more." She pleads like I don't know.

I pull back, blowing on her center, one more time, before I use my tongue. The second my tongue comes in contact, she lets out this half scream that is so hot. My dick throbs in response.

Having her sit like this, is the perfect angle for using my mouth and my fingers. I fill her with two fingers at first, matching the rhythm of my mouth on her clit.

She moves her hips, just enough, to get the friction she's looking for. I lick circles around her bundle of nerves, and she grabs my hair. I know she's close.

When I add another finger, she whimpers before saying, "Just like that. "

I suck on her clit, while my fingers work, and she grips my hair tight, almost pulling. Keeping my head steady, I let her move the way she wants on my mouth.

Ivy tips my head just enough and she's coming on my fingers, my mouth. The sounds she makes are ones that are burned into my brain, so fucking hot and needy. I love making her come with my mouth. She tenses and throbs on my fingers, her hands still pulling at my hair, and I lick and suck until she's pushing my head away, too sensitive for me to continue.

Ivy is spent on the counter, breathing heavily and still leaning back on her elbows. I hover over her, holding my weight in my arms, but lowering far enough to kiss her mouth. Her tongue teases me and my erection presses into her.

I pull my pants and briefs down as Ivy stares at me, and if she keeps looking at me like that, I'm going to come with any sort of contact. She sits up and I slowly press my dick into her entrance; she's weak and sensitive after her orgasm.

I take my time with a few short and slow thrusts. When I slowly push all the way in, her warmness surrounding me, she whines and pulls at my shirt. That sound she makes has me close to coming and we've just started.

Ivy sits up, wraps her arms around me and kisses my neck. When she bites my earlobe, I pick up the pace. My hands go from the counter to her low back, itching to go deeper, have more traction.

"That, ugh, it feels so good," Ivy moans in between kissing me and it's the encouragement I need. I thrust harder, faster, and I'm groaning as I teeter on the edge. She takes one hand and scratches down my back, and even through my shirt it feels so fucking good.

I take one hand and find Ivy's center. Her clit hits my hand every time I thrust and she moans. We hit our stride, and I'm about to come .

"Fuck, I, I might come again," Ivy cries out as she kisses me and moves her hand that was on my back into my hair, pulling. I make sure my finger is still hitting her center with each time I drive into her.

When she lets out a scream and starts to throb on my cock, it's over for me. My orgasm hits me hard, and I yell into the kitchen as I spill into her. She grips and pulls me closer to her.

I don't stop moving until she's damn near horizontal on the counter.