CHAPTER SIXTEEN #2
“They choose the leaders of our country and place them in power, all who remain under their thumb,” I reply, clarifying just how far and wide their supreme influence stretches.
“They have the capacity to unleash a smear campaign so damaging that impeachment would be the least of the politician’s worries.
They can also erase the ugliest of scandals.
And political parties are irrelevant. It’s all who can serve KORT’s needs. They have people everywhere.”
“Puppeteers,” she rasps, barely above a whisper, as though the fire has entranced her.
“Yes,” I say, wondering how this is settling inside her. It’s what she was born for, but not officially bred to become. A nature versus nurture moment.
Her eyes snap to mine. “A cabal. And you work for them? Or with them? Is that who you erase people for?”
I choose to answer the simplest of those three queries. “Our erasing business is independent. We receive jobs from the government, from KORT, from individuals. Very few know who we are. They’re hiring a nameless service.”
She heaves a breath. “People think you’re financial advisers.”
“Those who choose to inquire, yes.”
Very rarely do we need a cover. We don’t associate with those who question what we do, unless we’re infiltrating a group for answers.
“This has something to do with me.” She wiggles in her seat, skimming her fingertips over the hem of her hoodie. “Somehow. ”
Liam and Ty both shoot me a sidelong glance while Gage sighs.
I stall for a beat, impressed yet not prepared to go down this road tonight. “What makes you say that, Ives?”
Her eyes float over each of us with a subtle shake of her head.
“I was never very good in school. It was taxing to stay focused. Even social settings were challenging. No one befriends the girl who spaces out during an important story. So, my dad worked with me. It’s difficult to explain, but I can understand more from body language than from the words falling from a person’s lips.
Sometimes, my brain disconnects from those, tucks them away.
But the way a person holds themselves, their stature, the squint of their eyes, the cadence of their voice and breaths.
The way you all bounced off one another.
This information was important. You wanted me to connect with what you were telling me. ”
Jesus Christ. She’s fucking brilliant.
The guys say nothing, waiting for my response. All eyes on me. As well as I know this woman, she still surprises me.
I dust my thumb over my lip, deciding. “It does. You are incredibly perceptive. And intuitive. That was an early installment. The rest will come as we discussed.”
She tightens her jaw, but lounges back into her chair. “That’s fine. It allots me time to compose better questions.”
Again, surprising.
We move into lighter conversation until I see her loosening up.
Her eyes fill with heat when she finds me watching her.
She nibbles her lower lip, and that is all the invitation needed.
I signal subtly to Ty, who eyes Liam and Gage.
They all say their good nights to Ivy—a delicate palming of her head, a shoulder squeeze, a kiss in her hair.
I’ve trained myself to accept it. She feels at home and cherished here, and although I want to be the only one who offers her that, she needs them like I do.
We really are a family now. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep that intact. Things she probably can’t fathom.
Without waiting for them to disappear all the way to the house, I voice my command. “Come here. ”
As always, her eyes tell me she’s toying with the idea of defying me, but my girl wants to be dominated.
Craves it. So, without protest, she rises and stands before me.
I tap my thigh, ordering her to sit. She falls into my lap, her back to my chest. Both my arms wrap around her waist, bunching her oversize sweatshirt.
I undo the button and zipper on her jeans, sliding my hand inside her panties, but before I can praise her readiness for me, she mutters, “What if they come back?”
“They won’t.” My answer is absolute as I spread her arousal over her clit.
She murmurs a faint purr. “Does everyone always do what you tell them to?”
“Yes.” I chuckle. “Except you sometimes.”
“True,” she says, and I hear the bratty, victorious grin. “Why? Why do people listen?”
“I can be persuasive, and most would prefer not to force my … persuasion .”
That sugarcoated honesty has her breath hitching because my naughty wife is probably envisioning all the ways I’ve encouraged her to obey and all the ways we’ve yet to explore. My lips brush across her ear, followed by a gentle nibble.
“You like that, Little Storm? The power, the control, the danger ?” I shove three fingers inside her, my thumb circling her clit as her moans break into the quiet. “No need to answer, Ives. You’re soaked. Your greedy pussy is making a mess all over my hand. I bet you could come already.”
Her breathing picks up with a whimper as she rocks into my palm. “Please,” she begs.
My teeth nip at her neck, no intention of making her hold out. I have more in store. With a gravelly tenor, I bid her release. “Come now, baby.”
And she does. Her head drops back to my shoulder, her thighs quake uncontrollably, and her back bows with a groan as the pleasure bursts through her .
I move the fabric of her sweatshirt and kiss the dip between her neck and collarbone while she floats down from her high. “Good girl. So good, coming when you’re told. Now, take your pants off and straddle me.”
She stills for a beat, tentatively drinking in my request. Her arm clasps mine in an embrace. “Maybe we should go inside.”
“You know I hate repeating myself. Don’t make me tell you twice.”
Ivy likes it rough, and I enjoy that too. But tonight, the thought of the cool autumn air on her bare cunt— mine —as she obeys my commands has me enraptured. I just want her.
Here. Now.
Submitting.
She leaps off me, bites her lip, and strips as gracefully as she can in the dark, her bare feet sinking into the grassy turf.
We couldn’t do this on a colder night, but the warmth has had me envisioning her bare and mounting me the entire time we’ve been out here.
She puffs a breath, either noticing my hungry eyes raking over her sexy legs or feeling the slight breeze enveloping her pussy.
I direct my gaze to my lap, so she climbs on, hooking her arms behind my neck.
I unzip her hoodie, rip the cotton shirt she has underneath in half, and release her front-clasp bra as she gasps.
“I want to see everything I own,” I tell her.
Her tits jounce with a heavy breath. “Why out here? It’s chilly.”
“You’re always radiant, but here, the flames licking up behind you”—I twirl a wisp of her hair—“these gorgeous strands blending with the blaze. Your eyes as brilliant as the stars lighting the midnight sky … I want you right here, like this. Mine.”
She brightens from the praise, and something about her here reminds me of nights I spent as a prisoner of war, wondering what I had to live for besides the three tortured men under my command.
“You’re the vision of what soldiers fight for, Ivy, a glimpse of beauty in the dark.”
Her eyes are swimming now, brimming like an all-consuming tropical wave. “Sometimes, it seems like … the way you look at me …”
“It seems like what?” I prod. Although I know the answer. She sees it. She has to, like everyone does. The way she’s wormed her way into my veins, pumping life in and out of me. But I won’t say those words to her until she knows who is loving her. Not until I’ve explained everything.
She rolls her lips in, retreating. “Nothing.”
“Ivanna,” I warn because I don’t want her hiding anything from me.
She doesn’t look at me, and I hate that she’s uncertain in the slightest, but all I can do now is show her.
“I like the way you see me—that’s all,” she whispers.
I slide my hands against her cheeks, cradling her face, and my eyes dance over her, taking her in.
“I do see you, Ivy. Amazing, brilliant, and beautiful in every goddamn way. My good girl.” My lips smash into hers, sealing in her whimper with the intensity I’ve found is impossible to hide.
“Now, take out my cock and let me fuck you like a good little slut.”
She beams a smile that could outshine angels.
Fucking made for me—craving both the praise I yearn to give her along with the darkness we both have lurking inside us.
She unzips my jeans and frees me, stroking my dick and swirling her thumb around in the precum before she lifts that thumb to her mouth for a taste, sucking it clean with a moan.
Jesus Christ, this girl.
Her eyes close as she becomes lost in the amorous savoring and confesses in a raspy warble, “I love being your slut.”
A goddamn fantasy.
She guides the head into her pussy, dropping down on me as I hiss, “Fuck, Ives.”
She bounces a few times before I get my bearings.
“You’re so tight. Such a perfect weeping cunt, coating my cock.” I meet her gaze. “Eyes on me. Touch yourself while you ride me. ”
Striking blue eyes locked on mine, she lowers her hand, massaging her clit with a gasp as I lift my palm to her throat.
I don’t squeeze hard. I won’t venture into breath play unless she requests it since she’s admitted it scares her.
But the element of peril excites her, and I aim to give my girl what she needs.
She nods in encouragement, so I tighten my grip slightly.
Moving my other hand to her breast, I slap the inside and pinch her nipple until she yelps, riding me harder, rubbing herself more vigorously. “That’s my good girl. Take what you need, Little Storm.”
A sheen of sweat breaks out over her skin, like it always does when she’s ready, a shimmering luster declaring her peak. “I’m going to … please let me come, Wells.”