"Can I do that to you too?" she whispered.
"Not tonight, sweetie," Winn said softly. He traced a hand down her arm, cupping her face gently, holding her gaze. "Tonight is about us feeling, learning, discovering. Let’s take it slow."
Every nerve in Ivy’s body tingled under his touch. She had never experienced this kind of closeness, the pull of someone who wanted her entirely. Her hands found his chest instinctively.
Winn shifted slightly, closing the small distance between them. His lips found hers in a slow kiss. He positioned himself between her thighs and guided himself in the entrance of her wet core.
"Breathe, Ivy," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. "Trust me. Feel it, don’t think it. Just let us be here, together." She let herself relax, surrendering to the tension and warmth between them, letting the closeness ignite her senses in ways words could never describe.
He entered into her in one smooth glide, breaking through the inevitable barrier. They moved together, a tangle of limbs and whispered names, their energy building. Ivy’s hands clung to him, as her moans got louder. Winn mirrored her need, guiding her as she neared orgasm.
"Will you marry me?" he asked without stopping the movement of his hips.
Ivy writhed beneath him. "Mr Kane, please..."
"You cant deny how good this feels, Ivy." Winn pushed. "Just say yes, love. Say yes."
"Yes." She whispered and it seemed as if she could feel him even deeper inside her. Her toes curled, her eyes rolled back. His own moans and grunts sent her into overdrive and she clenched around him as he pulsed deep inside her.
Ivy couldn’t deny it. It was beautiful. It almost seemed like they were making love.
By the time the moment passed, the air between them was charged with satisfaction, heat, and a new awareness of each other. Ivy lay against him, and Winn held her close.
They had found each other, though still in denial about their true feelings for each other. In that moment, they created something beautiful but little did they know that their decision to get married was the beginning of their sorrows and pain.
Sharona drove Sylvia home from the hospital early the next morning. Sylvia sat stiffly in the passenger seat of the Lamborghini. She tilted her face toward the window, sunglasses hiding the shadows under her eyes.
"You didn’t have to drive me," Sylvia muttered. "I could have just called our driver. My brother isn’t here. You do not have to pretend to care." She didn’t look at Sharona; her reflection in the tinted glass was easier to confront than the woman herself.
Sharona’s hands were steady on the wheel. "We need to keep up appearances," she replied. "Winn may not be watching, but someone else might be. And apparently, you are so needy that taking care of you and waiting on you hand and foot is what passes as an eligible spinster’s test for your brother."
"Are you really going to be spending all your time with me? Because you are very exhausting." She rubbed her temples dramatically, as if Sharona’s presence alone caused migraines.
"We’re best friends, remember?" Sharona quipped, lifting a mock eyebrow. "Besties until the end. The perfect cover."
Sylvia leaned back against the seat, crossing her arms. "What exactly are you getting out of manipulating my brother? A percentage of Grandpa’s fortune?"
Sharona gave a low, amused hum. "At least I’m getting something as tangible as money. Insane amounts of money. Investments. Access. Doors that would stay locked to me otherwise." She flicked her eyes briefly toward Sylvia before focusing on the road again. "What are you getting out of betraying your brother? A man... a married man."
"Don’t act like you’re above me. You may sell your soul for money, but at least I sell mine for passion. For something that makes my heart race."
"Heart race?" Sharona snorted, amused. "He’s married, darling. All you’ll ever get is scraps off his table. Leftovers. And if Winn ever finds out, do you think he’ll forgive you?"
Sylvia’s hands clenched in her lap, nails digging into her palms. She wanted to say it wasn’t scraps—that what she had with Joey was real, electric, worth the risk. Get full chapters from N0v3l.Fiɾe.net
"I don’t want you around me," Sylvia said flatly. Her gaze stayed glued to the passing trees outside the window, arms folded tight across her chest. "Find another way to get close to my brother. I do not want you staying with me."
Sharona smirked, unfazed. She adjusted her sunglasses and pressed harder on the accelerator, the Lamborghini’s engine growling in response. "Strap on a pair, princess. You are stuck with me," she said.
The gates of Winn’s compound opened—smooth, automatic, and guarded by cameras that seemed to watch their every move.
Sharona parked, then made a grand display of helping Sylvia out of the car. Her hand lingered just a little too long on Sylvia’s arm, her smile dazzling. It was a show for anyone watching. Sylvia wanted to slap it off her face.
Inside, it was the sight of Winn and Ivy that greeted them, their lips locked in a kiss hot enough to fog glass. Winn’s hand was splayed against Ivy’s back, pulling her close, while Ivy’s fingers twisted in the lapel of his suit jacket.
Sharona’s eyes narrowed instantly, sharp enough to cut diamonds.
"Oh... wow!" Sylvia blurted. Her jaw slackened as the pieces fell into place with clarity. She had seen them before—on that double date with Joey and his wife—but she’d been so caught up in her own obsession with Joey that she’d brushed off Ivy’s presence. Now, watching Winn devour her, it finally clicked. It clicked.
Winn broke the kiss and turned, lips still damp. "Hey, Syl...I was just on my way to pick you up."
Sylvia arched a brow, her mouth curving into a wicked grin. "Really? In her mouth?"
Ivy flushed crimson, instinctively stepping behind Winn’s broad frame. She pressed her palm against the back of his suit jacket, wishing she could melt into the fabric, disappear into the floor—anything to avoid Sylvia’s scrutiny.