Chapter Ivor
Ivor
She’s sprawled on my bed, mask still on, dress pooled around her waist, trembling from what I’ve already done to her with my mouth. Her skin is flushed, eyes glassy, lips parted like she’s drunk on me.
I stand at the edge of the bed, stripping off the last of my shirt, my slacks, never taking my eyes off her.
She’s everything I’ve ever hated and everything I’ve ever wanted in one impossible, infuriating package: a woman who came to my world hunting a story and instead walked straight into my hands.
And now I’m done playing.
I’ve taken women before. Too many to count. I’ve owned them, used them, discarded them. It was never about them. It was about release, about proving something to my father, about shutting off the noise in my own head for a few minutes.
But with her, none of that applies. My hunger isn’t a thing to be silenced. It’s a fire that only she can stoke. I want to fill her, mark her, breed her, until there’s nothing left in her body or mind that isn’t mine.
I climb onto the bed, looming over her, straddling her, catching her wrists and pinning them above her head against the pillows. Her eyes flare behind the lace, but she doesn’t look away. She arches up instead, pressing her body to mine in a move that feels like surrender and challenge all at once.
“Mine,” I growl, my mouth at her throat, biting down hard enough to make her gasp. “Every part of you. Every thought. Every breath.”
She shudders, a soft sound escaping her lips. I stroke my hands down her sides, searching for a zip and when I find it, I slowly drag it downwards. Pulling her into a sitting position, I yank the dress up over her head.
She is naked but for the mask, and the sight of her flushed and perfect snaps the last thread of my restraint.
I shift, pushing her legs apart with my knee, lining myself against her. The head of my cock nudges at her slick, aching entrance. The heat of her makes my vision blur. She’s wet from my tongue, from her own want, and the knowledge of it drives me insane.
“Tell me to stop,” I rasp, even though I already know she won’t.
Her hips lift instead, her breath a tremor. “I can’t.”
That’s all I need.
I push inside, slow at first, then deeper, until I’m buried to the hilt. Her head tips back, a broken sound spilling from her mouth. The tight heat of her clamps around me, and for a second I nearly lose myself.
“Fuck,” I hiss against her ear. “So wet. So perfect.”
I start to move, a slow, relentless rhythm, grinding deep until her legs tremble against my hips.
My hands have found their way back to her wrists and hold her there, making her take every inch.
Her mask slips sideways, but I don’t pull it off.
I want her anonymous, want to feel like I’m claiming every secret part of her.
I lower my mouth to hers and kiss her hard, swallowing her moans, thrusting deeper until the bed creaks. “You feel that?” I growl. “That’s me inside you. Filling you. Writing myself into you. No more watching. No more secrets. Just us.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders, her hips rolling to meet mine. Every time I drive into her she makes a soft, broken sound that only makes me harder.
I speed up, pounding into her now, my hunger turning feral. “I’m going to breed you, little dove,” I snarl against her neck. “Gonna fill you until everyone knows you’re mine just by looking at your full, round stomach.”
She cries out, clutching me, and the sound tears through me like a blade. My vision goes dark at the edges. My body moves on instinct, slamming into her, deep, deeper, until there’s nothing left but the heat of her and the sound of our skin meeting.
I grip her hip, drag her leg higher over my waist, and drive in one last time, so deep I feel her shudder around me.
“Mine,” I groan, spilling inside her, thrust after thrust, holding her there while my release pulses into her.
For a moment the room disappears. Just her heat, her heartbeat, our breaths tangling in the dim light.
I ease my grip on her wrists, slide my hand up to her hand until our fingers twine. She’s still masked, still panting, her body trembling under mine.
I press my forehead to hers. “You’re the only one,” I whisper, rough and ragged. “The only one who could ever sate this hunger.”
Her eyes flutter open, wide and dazed behind the lace.