dirty money (l.t.)

Chapter 9

A/N: Warning on explicit language and a bit of smut. I don't even know why I'm warning, you should know by now ;) You know what to do at the end of the chapter!!!! #vote #comment #follow

Chapter 9: Decorate My Neck

☼Louis W. Tomlinson☼

I send a quick text to Ivy, telling her I'd be there soon. I took my white Maserati and drove quickly to the address she sent me. She lived not too far from the club, in a luxurious flat building. I assumed that with the red Chevy she had and the jewellery she wore, she would live in such place. I sent her another message, telling her to come down.

I waited impatiently for her, already feeling the excitement and the frustration to come. I knew the night would be long, and it was already eleven at night, just like I knew I'd have to wait a few hours before I could shag that tight püssy of hers. Sadly, I also knew that I was completely hypnotised by her ways. I even got jealous when she gave a lap dance to that bastard Evan. I don't get jealous. I never did, not before that fücking bïtch closed her trap on me. In that case, the trap was her legs.

I wanted to kiss her everywhere, mark her milky skin with blossoming red and purple flowers, bite the inside of her thighs as her legs shook around my head, listen to her cry my name over and over again like her only prayer as I buried myself deeply into her. I wanted to touch her, tie her, lick her, taste her, get to know her body better than I know mine, make her tremble with desire...

Truth was, I knew nothing about who Ivy Adams was. I didn't know her real name, I didn't know her story, I didn't know what she liked or disliked... But I knew I wanted to cherish her body from dawn to dusk. Though she infuriated me most of the time, I knew that a fückbuddy was exactly what I needed. A woman like Ivy was what I needed.

So I would take her.

I would take her everywhere, from my bed sheets to my shower, to my kitchen counter and my couch, to my diner table and the floor of my living room, and even the backseat of my car: I wanted to take her everywhere.

A knock on the window made me jump. I unlocked the doors and Ivy slid in, making me bite my lips when I saw her silky long legs in her tight skirt and a bust showing off perfectly her breasts. She smirked, her lips a dark cherry red, and winked at me.

"Well, shall we, Mr. Tomlinson?" She asked in her sultry voice, an underlying tone marking her words.

I merely nodded, driving off quickly to my flat and to the party, where I knew Ivy would tease me until everybody was gone. The ride was silent. She was busy looking at Los Angeles at night, and I was busy imagining her stripping down for me. As we arrived in front of my building, Ivy's lips parted, a sparkle of surprise in her eyes. Smugly, I got out of the car and to her door to open it for her, giving her a hand to get out. The beautiful vixen took it and got out of the car, graceful as always. I pulled her towards the glass tower where was my flat, keeping her slender hand in mine.

As we went inside, I nodded towards the butler, Charles, who looked at Ivy with a surprised face, and, obviously, the glint of amazement and lust shone in his eyes. I almost growled at him for looking at what was mine, but I only glared at him, scolding myself.

I was not jealous, nor was I possessive and territorial, and Ivy was not mine.

I had a feeling she wasn't anybody's, or that she was everybody's.

As I entered the silver elevator, Ivy right behind me, I suddenly tensed. Ivy slipped her long nails on the skin of my hand, making goose bumps rise. Then, she caressed my face in a light feathery touch, gliding along my jawline to touch my parted lips. Losing self-control, I smacked her hand away and grabbed her waist, pushing her against the mirror of the elevator. I crashed my mouth against hers, almost moaning when they made contact with mine. It was delightful to finally feel her, though I had touched those lips only a few hours ago.