Ivy’s sitting on me, riding me, coming down from yet another unbelievably intense orgasm that’s rocking us
both. Her pussy’s still quivering, milking the last throbs of my release. Her dark hair hangs long, the almost-blond
tips of it feathery against my arms as I hold her, caressing her perfect breasts, cupping them, teasing the rosy peaks
and exploring the silky smoothness of her skin.
“What would you do if you could do anything you wanted?” I ask her, so enthralled by her beauty I sometimes
wonder if I’m dreaming her. “If you could just work on exactly what you wanted to work on without the stress or
the worry of anything else, what would you do?”
She thinks about this for a few seconds, watching my eyes, still dazed with her lingering ecstasy. “I’d work on
my music. I’d only post on social media when I felt like it. Or maybe not at all. I’d travel.”
“Where?” “To those huts.” This makes me smile. She’s so fucking cute. “What if I told you I booked us into
those huts. In Tahiti. Next week. Would you come with me?”
She gives me a look, thinking I’m joking. “Maybe.” I’m fucking in love with her. I know this as sure as I’ve
ever known anything. Ever. I know it because I’ve never felt anything remotely like it and it’s basically like having
a wrecking ball of lust, obsession, tenderness, need, beauty, addiction and happiness—all wrapped up in one little
golden-
eyed goddess—crash straight through the middle of my life. I’d let my empire burn to the ground to ke ep her.
I’m already imagining her round with my baby as we swim in turquoise ocean water.
We haven’t talked much about the el ephant in the room. The fact that it’s very possible I have knocked her up,
already, if the stars are aligned for it.
It’s absurd. It doesn’t make sense that I could meet her and over the course of one single weekend know for a
fact that she’s the one.
But I do. I can feel it in the beat of my heart. I can also feel it in the surge and pulse of my cock, which wants
to live inside this girl, spilling my soul and my seed into her until she’s fully mine in every possible way. I want to
fucking breed her with a primal need that’s so sure of itself I can’t argue or reason with it.
“Marry me,” I say. Her eyes get wide and she bites her lip. There’s a light sadness to her smile that only makes
my resolve that much more feral. “Sure thing, Maddox.”
She doesn’t know yet that I mean it, and that I’ll give her all the time she needs until I can convince her. Or
that I’ve booked a trip for us. Or that I’ve already talked to my lawyers, who are looking into the issue Jack
Dempsey confronted us with. And doing a de ep dive into Ivy’s father’s background, businesses and banking
activities.
She doesn’t know that I’ve got a bodyguard following Josh to make sure he’s not in any danger. People can
get touchy about things like having their offshore bank accounts drained, and if Mr. Laine would walk out on his
own children, who knows what he’s capable of. I’ve got enough information at this point to know that the man’s a
snake and coward, who chose to walk away instead of man up.
Ivy also doesn’t know that I have my people looking into where she lives, the building where her apartment is
located and the terms of its sale. Everything’s for sale at the right price and I want it to be hers.
“Sing me that song you sang last night,” I tell her. “No.” “Please?” It’s not a word I use very often. But for this
girl, I’ll grovel on my goddamn knees.
She narrows her eyes at me, her pussy squeezing as she does this and I’m already hard again. And so fucking
besotted it’s painful. I grip her hips and thrust into her slowly.
“Do you want to hear a new one I’ve been working on?” she breathes. “Yes.” She starts singing to me as I’m
fucking her and it feels so good to know. I know that I’ll spend my entire fortune on her just to see her smile. I
know that all those years and all the endless work was worth it. Because now I can use it to make this girl mine.