Guilt sits in my stomach like a lead weight, even as I plaster on my congratulatory smile. The Miami podium looms behind , champagne puddles still glistening on the platform where my wife just collected another trophy for her ever-expanding collection.
The race went well enough, I suppose. Ivy beat Blair by a clean two seconds, with Olivia Piastri surprisingly close behind despite driving what everyone knows is an inferior machine. I should be ecstatic, my wife dominated again, finally getting the lead in the championship over Blair by 1 point. But all I can think about is how my special sauce seems to be losing its edge for Ivy.
I shift uncomfortably against the barrier separating fans from team personnel. The crowd’s energy has barely diminished since the checkered flag, the Miami atmosphere electric with wealth and excitent.
The office doors swing open, and they erge one by one, the top three finishers fresh from their mandatory weigh-in. Blair first, her silver eyes fixed straight ahead, deliberately avoiding my gaze as she strides toward the Zenith Area. Olivia follows.
Then Ivy appears, purple highlights catching the afternoon sun as her eyes scan the crowd with predatory focus. The mont she spots , her entire deanor transforms. The calculated champion lts away, replaced by sothing I still can’t quite believe is ant for , pure, unfiltered joy.
“Nick!” she shouts, breaking into a sprint that sends nearby photographers scrambling for their caras.
Before I can react, she barrels into with the force of an F1 car at full throttle. Her arms wrap around my waist and suddenly my feet leave the ground as she hoists into the air with effortless strength. My body spins in a dizzying arc as she twirls , her powerful muscles flexing beneath her racing suit.
“Did you watch out there?” she purrs, her accent thicker with post-race adrenaline. “Was I sexy destroying the competition?”
I can’t help but laugh, partly from the ridiculous display of strength I’ve grown to cherish, partly from the sheer joy radiating from her. My hands find her shoulders to steady myself as she holds aloft like I weigh nothing.
“The sexiest,” I confirm, acutely aware of the dozens of phones capturing this mont.
She finally sets down but keeps pressed against her, one arm snaked possessively around my waist. The scent of champagne and sweat clings to her skin, intoxicating in its familiarity.
Her eyes find mine, and sothing shifts in her expression, a desperate hunger that makes my breath catch. There’s a rawness there, sothing primal that sends electricity racing down my spine.
“I need you,” she whispers, just loud enough for to hear.
I barely have ti to process her words before she’s closing the distance between us. My lips part instinctively, tongue darting out to et hers as she claims my mouth with bruising intensity. The kiss is imdiate and filthy, all tongue, teeth, and hopelessly needy. I lt against her, my body responding with a hunger that matches her own.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling just hard enough to make gasp into her mouth. I don’t care that we’re surrounded by caras, that tomorrow this will be splashed across every sports website and social dia platform. All I care about is being closer to her, feeling more of her, drowning in the heat of her.
The world narrows to just us, the taste of champagne on her tongue, the firmness of her body against mine, the soft moan she breathes into my mouth. I’d give her anything in this mont. My body, my soul, whatever she needs.
“Let the man breathe! He’s gonna pass out!” A voice cuts through the mont, followed by scattered laughter from the crowd.
Without breaking our kiss, Ivy’s middle finger shoots up defiantly toward the voice. Her other hand slides down my back, finding my ass and squeezing possessively, pulling even tighter against her. The crowd whoops and hollers at her brazen response, but she doesn’t care. If anything, the audience only fuels her further.
I should be embarrassed. I should want to pull away, create so distance between us in this very public space. Instead, I press closer, my body responding with a traitorous enthusiasm that surprises even . I feel myself hardening against her, a warm wetness beginning to form at my tip, my body completely betraying any sense of public decency.
God help , am I actually enjoying this? The realization hits like a physical blow, I’m getting off on this, on being claid so thoroughly in front of everyone. I try not to unpack that thought any further.
When we finally break apart, I’m gasping for air, my face scorching hot. Ivy’s eyes are dark with desire, pupils blown wide as she studies my flushed face.
Her expression shifts subtly, eyes narrowing as they search mine. Sothing in my face must betray because her hands move to cup my cheeks, thumbs stroking my flushed skin.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, voice dropping to a concerned whisper that feels jarringly intimate amid the crowd’s noise. “You look... troubled.”
I swallow hard, the guilt churning inside like a living thing. This isn’t the place, surrounded by fans, team personnel, and what feels like a hundred caras.
“Later,” I manage, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. “When we’re alone.”
Sothing annoyed flashes across her face. Without another word, she grabs my wrist, her grip firm but not painful. She turns, cutting through the crowd with such purpose that people instinctively part before her. I stumble along behind her, mumbling half-ford apologies to those we brush past.
The walk to our trailer feels both endless and too quick. Ivy doesn’t speak, doesn’t look back, just marches forward with the sa single-minded focus she applies to everything in her life. Her fingers remain locked around my wrist like she’s afraid I might bolt if given the chance.
We reach the trailer in record ti. Ivy yanks the door open, pushes inside, and slams it shut behind us with enough force to rattle the windows. Before I can catch my balance, her hands are on my shoulders, guiding backward until my legs hit the edge of the bed.
“Sit,” she commands, her accent thicker than usual.
I comply without thinking, sinking onto the mattress as she drops to her knees before . Her fingers make quick work of my belt, then my zipper, tugging my pants down with practiced efficiency. The cool air of the trailer hits my exposed skin, making shiver.
“Now,” she says, looking up at through her lashes, “talk.”
Before I can formulate a response, she leans forward and takes fully into her mouth in one fluid motion. Her soft wet mouth engulfs my cock completely, stealing the breath from my lungs. A pathetic sound escapes , half whimper, half moan, as pleasure crashes through my system.
“I… I can’t think when you do that,” I gasp, my fingers tangling in her hair reflexively.
She pulls back just enough to speak, her breath hot against my sensitive skin. “That’s the point. No overthinking. Just truth.”
Her mouth descends again, taking deeper than before. I feel the back of her throat constrict around my tip as she pushes past her comfort zone, eyes watering slightly as she forces herself to swallow more of . My hips buck involuntarily, driving even deeper into her willing throat.
“Jesus Christ, Ivy,” I moan, watching her purple-tinged head bob between my trembling thighs.
She gags audibly, her throat spasming around , yet she doesn’t pull back. Instead, she doubles down until her nose presses against my stomach. The wet, obscene sounds filling our trailer fuel my arousal.
I try to sit up straighter to maintain so semblance of control, but her relentless assault makes it difficult. My arms shake as I attempt to prop myself up, only to collapse back onto my elbows when she hollows her cheeks and sucks hard enough to make my vision blur.
“Fuck,” I pant, watching her through half-lidded eyes. “I think I’m becoming too much of a distraction for you. The gap between you and Blair... it’s getting shorter.”
She pulls back with a vulgar, wet pop, saliva connecting her swollen lips to my glistening cock. Her purple eyes flash dangerously.
“What did you just say?” she demands, her voice raspy from the abuse her throat just endured.
“I just…” My words catch in my throat as she presses her lips to my tip, planting soft, deliberate kisses that sohow feel more intimate than when she’d taken all of . Each press of her mouth sends shivers radiating through my body, her eyes never leaving mine.
“You think you’re distracting ?” she asks between kisses, her tongue darting out to trace the sensitive ridge. “That Blair’s catching up because of you?”
I swallow hard, watching her worship with those plush lips. “She’s closing the distance, Ivy. And all those hours we spend together…”
She cuts off by swallowing whole again, taking so deep I feel her throat close around . My thoughts scatter like startled birds, coherence dissolving into pure sensation as she works with devastating precision.
When she finally releases , I’m trembling, barely able to form words. “I think... I think I’m taking up too much of your ti,” I manage, my voice breaking. “You should be in the simulator more, studying teletry, not wasting energy on .”
Her expression darkens as she takes back into the wet heaven of her mouth, this ti with a gentleness that makes tears spring to my eyes. The contrast between her fierce personality and this tender act of devotion undoes completely.
“I don’t want to spend less ti with you,” I whisper, my fingers caressing her hair as she continues her loving ministrations. “I just don’t want to be the reason you lose.”
She swallows down with renewed hunger, her pace quickening to sothing almost punishing. The gurgiling sounds of her throat working around fill our trailer, drowning out the distant celebrations outside. Her purple-tinged hair becos a blur as she bobs faster, more desperately, like she’s trying to physically pull the doubt from my body through sheer force.
“Oh god,” I groan, my back arching off the bed. “Ivy, I’m close… I can’t hold…”
Her eyes lock with mine, fierce and commanding even from her position between my legs. Those purple irises burn with such intensity it steals my breath. No words pass her lips, but the ssage in her gaze is unmistakable, an order, a demand, a challenge.
My entire body shakes as pleasure tears through like lightning. “Ivy!” I cry out her na as I erupt, flooding her eager mouth with pulse after pulse of hot release. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pull away, just keeps those srizing eyes locked on mine as she swallows everything I have to give her.
When the last tremor subsides, she slowly pulls away, licking her lips with deliberate showmanship. A single pearly drop escapes the corner of her mouth, and she catches it with her thumb before sucking it clean.
She rises from her knees, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she settles beside on the bed. The mattress dips under her weight, and I feel the heat radiating from her body even through her racing suit.
“You’re right,” she says quietly, her voice still raspy from her efforts. “I have been slacking a bit lately.”
My heart sinks at her admission, but she continues before I can respond.
“But you know what? Blair’s also just a better driver than I initially gave her credit for. It’s not just any one thing.” She takes my hand, her thumb tracing circles on my palm. “And even if you are distracting , I’ve been a champion before.” Her purple eyes soften. “But I’ve never been in love before. That’s a worthwhile pursuit too, don’t you think?”
The sincerity in her voice makes my chest ache. “I don’t want you to regret this in the future,” I whisper, squeezing her hand. “I’m not going anywhere, Ivy. You don’t have to choose between and racing. You can have both.”
A smile spreads across her face, transforming her features from fierce to almost vulnerable. “I don’t live with regrets, Nick. I’m impulsive, yes, but I’m also committed. When I decide sothing matters, it matters forever.” She brings my hand to her lips, kissing my knuckles with surprising tenderness. “I love loving you. I love it far more than I love racing.”
Heat rushes to my face, and I duck my head, overwheld by her declaration.
“Still,” I persist, unable to let it go completely, “you said you had the triple crown dream, and you need to win this year for…”
She cuts off with another deep kiss, her lips silencing my concerns more effectively than any words could. When she pulls back, there’s a mixture of amusent and exasperation in her eyes.
“Stop overthinking everything, Nick. I’m an adult. I’m four years older than you, for God’s sake. You’re not making choose.” Her smile returns, softer now, almost vulnerable. “Even if I lose, I have you. So I’m still a winner.”
My throat tightens with emotion. I’ve never been soone’s prize before, never been valued above ambition and career. The weight of her declaration settles over like a warm blanket.
“I love you so much,” I whisper, my voice cracking with emotion.
“I love you too.”
Reviews
All reviews (0)