Bentley didn’t move as Ivy closed the distance between them, his mind a jumbled mess of thoughts and desires. She approached slowly, her eyes dark with intent, her hips swaying sensually with each step she took.
When she finally reached him, she didn’t hesitate. Without a word, she straddled his lap, her legs crossing over him, pulling her body flush against his. His hands instinctively went to her hips, his breath hitching as her busts, full and bare, pressed against his chest. Her perfume was intoxicating, filling his senses, and it made everything worse.
Bentley tried to look away, tried to find any reason to stop this madness, but his gaze inevitably trailed down from her face to her chest. His eyes lingered on her n*****s—pink, perky, and tantalizingly close. Ivy noticed, of course
