Different Worlds Ch. 09

"Are you sure?" There was a smile in his voice and her stomach clenched.

She nodded.

*

Ivy was kneeling on the bed, her arms pinned behind her, resting on her knees. Trailing his fingers gently up her front, across her breasts, Richard watched as goosepimples erupted and her nipples puckered. Their eyes met in the reflection of the mirrored wardrobe. She was flushed, her eyes glassy. Yes, being bound definitely aroused Ivy. He found he liked her like this. She looked glorious, with both her hands pushed behind her. Her back arched, her breasts jutting forward, as though she was offering herself up to him.

He felt a surge of affection cut with arousal. "God, you're beautiful."

Quick as a flash she looked away from the mirror, her cheeks taking on the faint tell tale pink blush of her embarrassment. He sighed inwardly, Ivy's bashfulness was endearing and refreshing, but how could she possibly not know how beautiful she was?

Richard dug his fingers into her hair and gripped her scalp, Pulling her head back, he trailed his lips along her throat. When he reached her collar bone he stole another glance at their reflection. Although her head has fallen back, he could just make out the edge of her fanning against her cheeks.

He couldn't hold back anymore, releasing Ivy and gripping his erection in his fist he positioned him self at her entrance and slid into her. Gently, almost imperceptibly she sighed his name and it was nearly his undoing.

He pushed into her with such force that she lost her balance and tumbled forward so her face rested on the pillow. He fucked her, one hand encircling her waist, pressing her down, into the mattress. Still gripping her hair in his fist and pressing his lips against her neck, trailing them along her jaw, tickling her ears. His thrusts were not as punishing as earlier, but still firm and strong.

*

It felt like an age had passed since they'd left the shower, and she had come close to coming again so many times. It was okay, she was enjoying the teasing tempo of these lazy ministrations this time, she'd had release in the shower so she wasn't frustrated like earlier. She was on her back and he was on top, her hands still tied, but above her head. He'd flattened himself out on her, his body covering hers like a blanket and he was inside her, making long languorous strokes, pushing in and out of her torturously slowly.

Leaning forward he grazed his lips against the sensitive flesh on her chest, one after the other he pulled each of her nipples into his mouth and sucked, she ground her hips against his, wishing he would increase tempo. Wishing her hands were not tied so she could grab his hair and pull his lips towards her own and kiss them.

Something had changed between them since that day in the truck. Sex was different, he was much more affectionate, but also much more dominating.

It was a beguiling mixture and despite herself she liked this new assertive Richard. He seemed a little confused by it too, but mostly he seemed comfortable. This was the first time he had restrained her with something other than his hands, the first time he had bound her. She was surprised to find she liked it. She met his gaze; he smiled a lazy grin as another deep swift stroke filled her

They carried on making love until she was exhausted, and hazy from endorphins. He had been intent on taking her apart; she could see it in his eyes. She could feel it in his actions, intent on breaking down these barriers she seemed compelled to put up between the times they saw each other. But he must have decided he'd accomplished his goal, because he pulled the cord away from her hands and increased his rhythm. Elated to have the freedom of movement back and to finally feel him let go of his control she grabbed his face in both her hands and kissed him.

She felt feverish, consumed by the sensations he was lavishing on her. Her hips matched his stroke for stroke, so when, his eyes dark with intent, he sat back and slipped his thumb over the tight bundle of nerves at her core, and pressed with a single deliberate movement she detonated around him.

The room faded and blackened as she fell.

She floated in a dreamlike blur. And there was nothing, except the feel of his skin against hers, his breath in her ear, his lips against her neck, the sound of their hearts beating.

***

They were lying facing each other, their breathing had finally evened out after the exertion and he was studying her face.

"Will came to see me last weekend." She watched him tense as she delivered this news.

"What did he want?" It was accompanied by a scowl.

"He wanted to apologise."

The sound that came from Richard was a funny sort of bark-like laugh,

"Will never admits that he is wrong." Richard shook his head as he spoke.

She lifted herself onto her elbow so she could look down at his face "You didn't put him up to it then?"

"No, I haven't suggested anything of the kind, in fact quite the opposite, I told him to stay away from you. I warned him if he approached you again I wouldn't be so forgiving next time."

She frowned at that, and absently Richard followed the line of her collarbone with his finger. "I wonder what came over him?"

"We think he might have overheard a conversation between Sally and Ruth about me not wanting to let you pay for my flights."

He nodded at that and the two of them fell back into a comfortable silence.

*

Richard didn't believe in love at first sight. Love was something that developed slowly, after a sensible period of time, if two people were truly compatible and they could only know this after months had passed, after they'd gotten to know each other thoroughly. He'd spent weeks telling himself this. He couldn't be in love with her already, that couldn't possibly be what was happening. He'd hardly spent any time with Ivy, a few fleeting weekends here and there, the occasional snatched evening, followed by an early morning dash back to London. But it was hard to deny the instant, almost elemental connection he'd felt from the second he'd laid eyes on her.

From the very first moment they'd made love he had felt an almost primitive urge to own her. He'd wanted her to belong to him and only him. He never wanted to be parted from her. Every time he left her to fly back to work in cold dark Stockholm was a wrench of the most difficult kind. He spent an inordinate amount of time worrying that she would tire of not seeing enough him, or meet someone else, or just decide it was time to move on.

These feelings were quite alien, he was usually so much more rational, more detached than this. Much more in control.

But there was something about Ivy that made him want to protect her, to wrap her up, to keep her safe. That made him want to spend every moment he could with her. Perhaps it was the long distance nature of their relationship, the feeling that they could never spend as much time as they wanted with each other. Or was it the frustration he felt because she pulled away so often? He didn't always understand her, and he wanted desperately to.

Whatever it was, he had known since that day, when he'd seen her packing to go and the sun had been setting he'd come so close to never seeing her again. The mere memory of it still terrified him.

He looked up to find her watching him, her expression quizzical. Touching his face she asked, "Are you okay? You look so serious, what are you thinking about?"

"I love you."

He didn't mean to say that then, the words just kind of popped out without him really meaning for them to, he didn't want to scare her off and she often seemed so easily frightened by any sort of commitment or show of emotional intimacy, but he found he didn't want to withdraw the sentiment so instead he clarified.

"I know its too soon to say it, but I think I realised that when I thought I was never going to see you again. And then I did, and you were packing up the dodge and the sun was setting and..."

The words petered out and he watched her, waiting for her to reply, feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable.

She looked him without speaking for a long while, blinking frequently, biting her lip. He had expected to feel disappointed that she didn't feel the same way, but he realised he didn't care if she had fallen in love with him yet, all he knew was that he loved her and they were together and that's all that mattered.

He lifted a hand and cupped her face.

"You don't have to say it back, I'm not expecting you to say it back," he said quickly, "but it's just that, well I love you Ivy, and I want you to know."

When finally Ivy spoke, it was slowly; as if the things she were saying were only just dawning on her. As if she was talking to herself.

"I feel so much for you that it scares me, is that love? If I don't see you I miss you so much, its like an ache in my chest that won't go away." As she spoke she lifted his hand and pressed it against her ribs, to her breast. He could feel her heart, beating so fast it might be a tiny, frightened bird trapped in a cage that could burst open at any moment.

"I can't eat," she shook her head slowly, "I can't sleep, I can't think straight, God it's a nightmare. I find myself gazing off into space all the time and thinking about you when I've got stuff to getting on with."

She hadn't finished speaking, but he couldn't help himself, he gripped her waist and twisting her around, he lifted her onto his hips so she straddled him and laughing he said. "God, Ivy I love you, I love you so much and I'm so happy,"

And Ivy was laughing too.

Of course they made love again, slow, languorous love that left Richard wondering at the effect Ivy seemed to have on his virility and stamina.

Afterwards he changed the sheets, while Ivy dried her hair.

*

They had crawled back into bed and Richard had pulled the many blankets over them. Ivy was wrapped in his arms feeling exhausted and sated and all she wanted to do was fall asleep. The emotional rollercoaster of a day had taken its toll and she felt beyond tired, but there was a new feeling too, one that she had never felt before, one that she needed to take a moment to examine.

Ivy felt safe.

Feeling safe wasn't a luxury you had when you grew up living with a bi-polar parent, or when you lived on the road for that matter. She spent so much of her life feeling like any stability she had, anyone she grew attached to was liable to slip through her fingers at any moment. But now things were different, and that was sort of scary but sort of wonderful and a small part of her wanted to run away but a bigger part of her wanted to stay with him and stopping fighting all these feelings, learn to stop being afraid of them.

Richard growled quietly in his sleep and shifted. She stilled as his arm slid around her torso and he pulled her into his embrace, as if he could some how know what she was thinking even though he was asleep.