“Be good for me, witchling,” he coaxed in her ear. “Let me see you fall apart.” Gasping sharply, her hips moved at an erratic rhythm, thighs shaking. “That’s it, that’s it. Come for me, Ivy.” In a spectacular flourish, her back bowed and her head fell back, knocking against his shoulder. The tight coil in her body snapped and she jerked, crying out and knocking over her water glass. He chuckled to himself. He’d happily clean up a thousand tipped water glasses if it meant watching her come like this over and over.
