Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

The night was long. The drug in Ivy Sherwood’s system was potent, and Quentin Blackwood had been holding back for far too long. His passion erupted like a volcano, threatening to pull Ivy down into the abyss with him.

Their fervent lovemaking only ended as dawn approached.

Quentin Blackwood held his private property tightly, unable to bring himself to let go.

...

The next morning, when Ivy Sherwood woke up, she found her arms wrapped around... a man!

Not only were her hands clinging tightly to his well-built waist, but her face was also pressed against his chest.

Most importantly, they were both completely naked!

Ivy’s mind went completely blank. She remembered having dinner with John Young last night and then being drugged. After that, Charlie Rhodes had come into the room...

’Could it be... No, impossible. There’s no way Charlie Rhodes has a body this good.’

Ivy shot her head up, only to see a devastatingly handsome face.

It was Quentin Blackwood.

Ivy: "!!"

The ache in her body told her everything: she had really slept with Quentin Blackwood last night!

A glance at their surroundings confirmed their night had been intense.

’In the few moments of lucidity she’d had last night, she’d felt like she was drowning, unable to catch her breath. If it had been Quentin, that would explain it. Every time they were together, he made her feel like she was floating on clouds.’

Ivy put a hand to her forehead. ’Sleeping with Quentin Blackwood isn’t much better than sleeping with Charlie Rhodes. What does this make us? We’ve already broken up!’

’If Quentin woke up, she couldn’t even imagine how mortifying it would be to face him. The scene would be unbearably awkward.’

She didn’t know why Quentin was here or how he’d gotten in. Right now, she didn’t want to dwell on it. She just wanted to leave.

Ivy carefully and quietly tried to climb out of bed. She moved very lightly, not disturbing Quentin.

However, before her feet even touched the floor, they felt so sore and weak they were almost numb, and she nearly toppled over.

A hand suddenly wrapped around her waist. "Careful."

The strong arm circled Ivy, pulling her into an embrace. Her back was pressed against a burning-hot chest.

They... were both naked!

Quentin’s voice was still raspy from sleep, incredibly deep. The tips of Ivy’s ears instantly turned red.

And that hand... was on her lower abdomen again. Afraid Quentin might discover something, Ivy struggled. "Let go of me!"

Instead of letting Ivy go, Quentin pulled her back. "It’s still early. Let’s sleep a little longer."

His casual behavior made Ivy freeze for a moment. She started to wonder if everything that had happened between her and Quentin recently had just been a dream.

’Otherwise, how could Quentin act as if nothing had happened and want to hold her and sleep a little longer?’

Ivy pinched herself. It hurt. It wasn’t a hallucination, and she wasn’t dreaming.

"What exactly happened last night? Why are you here?" Ivy looked at the man. There was a red bite mark on his neck and numerous other marks on his body that looked like scratches she had made.

"Last night... I’m sorry..." Quentin apologized. He had indeed been too rough. Now, Ivy’s body was covered in his marks.

And looking at Ivy’s ravaged appearance, Quentin felt himself getting aroused again, much to his chagrin.

’That sense of brokenness about her was just too beautiful.’

Hearing Quentin say sorry, Ivy paused. "Did you drug me last night?"

Quentin: "..."

"No!" He couldn’t take the blame for that.

"Then what are you apologizing for?"

"I came too late last night, and we..."

"Stop!" Ivy cut him off. She bent down, picked up her clothes from the floor, and took out her wallet.

Ivy pulled out the cash from inside and placed it beside Quentin. "The service last night was terrible. I didn’t like it. Let’s just say I hired a gigolo. You’re only worth this much. If it’s not enough, that’s all I have."

Quentin: "..."

The first time they were together, Ivy had also given him a stack of cash, commenting that his service was good.

Now, she had given him money again, saying his service was terrible.

It wasn’t that Quentin couldn’t accept this kind of insult—he wouldn’t even mind being Ivy’s gigolo—but his performance could not be questioned.

"Let’s call it even and go our separate ways. And don’t bother me again in the future."

With that, Ivy prepared to get out of bed.

However, Quentin yanked her right back. With a twist of his body, he had her pinned underneath him.

Ivy struggled, but Quentin held her down firmly.

"What do you think you’re doing? I already paid you." Ivy’s face flushed, whether from shame or anger, she couldn’t tell.

’Most importantly, she was still lying here naked with Quentin! They weren’t in any kind of relationship anymore. This was so inappropriate!’

Quentin sneered. "Since you’ve paid, that makes you my boss. How can I let my boss be unsatisfied? I’ll just have to service you again, boss, until you’re completely satisfied."

His words left Ivy completely dumbfounded.

’He’s so shameless!’

"I don’t want your service anymore! Let me go!"

"I can’t do that. How could I let a client complain? It’s all my fault, so I’ll just have to serve you properly now, boss."

With that, Quentin kissed her directly on the lips.

His fingertips felt like they were on fire. Everywhere he touched, Ivy felt a tingling numbness, as if her skin were being scorched.

His kisses then fell on her eyelashes, her earlobes.

"I don’t want your service! Go away!"

Quentin’s ragged breaths were audible. "But you’re feeling it too, aren’t you?"

Quentin could already feel the change in Ivy’s body.

"Boss, you were the one who initiated it last night. You were holding onto me and wouldn’t let go. You even said you loved my body, that I satisfy you every time, that..."

"Stop talking." Ivy reached out and covered Quentin’s lips with her hand.

She knew exactly what Quentin was like. When it came to this, he had an endless supply of dirty talk. Ivy could never handle it before, let alone now.

She didn’t know if it was because pregnancy heightened certain needs, but Ivy felt her body was even more sensitive than before.

Quentin had barely gotten started, and she was already losing her defenses.

And he was calling her "boss." The way he acted now, so subservient, he really did seem like the gigolo she had claimed to hire.

The thought of having a man like this serve her made Ivy’s bones feel like they were melting.

"Your service last night was excellent! I was very satisfied, okay?!"

"If you were so satisfied, then why did you want to go our separate ways and not hire me next time? Hmm?"

That little "hmm," with its rising tone right next to her ear, was more than Ivy could bear.

Quentin wasn’t finished. He said, "If you don’t want to hire me, then who do you want to hire?"

"After experiencing my work, can anyone else still satisfy you, boss?"

With Quentin calling her "boss" over and over, his hands never ceasing their exploration, Ivy’s face flushed so red it seemed it might start bleeding. Her eyes shimmered with moisture, and she had no idea how beautiful she looked in that moment. Her long eyelashes trembled as her body was pressed tightly against Quentin’s. His body felt even hotter than hers, and she knew all too well what impressive assets this man possessed.

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