CHAPTER NINETEEN #2
I can’t get enough of her like this, so I step out of the shower, still buried to the hilt inside her, and walk us to the bed, both of us drenched.
Dropping a pillow near the edge, I lay Ivy down on her back, hips elevated with the pillow, ankles slung over my shoulders as I stand before her, heel of my palm circling her clit while the other hand smacks her breasts and tweaks her nipples.
She digs her nails into my thighs, scraping, drawing out a feral groan from me.
And I thrust with everything I have while Ivy wails my name, her perfect pussy sucking in my cock.
Our eyes never leave one another’s as I hold her gaze hostage, owning her.
Every pump and mark and grunt a reminder of whose she is.
Whose I am. This woman knows the deepest parts of me—parts I didn’t know existed.
“I love you so fucking much, Little Storm.”
Her striking sapphires crease as she beams seconds before her release. “I love you too, Chief.”
I might not know what the future holds. KORT is unpredictable, possessing both the keys to the kingdom and a ticket to Hell.
There’s no telling which we’ll draw. But right here, I know what she needs, what her body craves, her every ache and longing.
That’s what I can deliver. Granting my girl her greatest fantasies so she knows without a doubt that she’s mine.
My pretty little slut.
My good girl.
My fucking queen.
We landed in Charleston, South Carolina, two hours ago.
It’s the Sunday after Thanksgiving. I picked a neutral location for our meeting with O’Reilly, giving us time to sweep the hotel suite and control the situation.
Ty and Liam have Ivy waiting in a connected room while Gage and I greet O’Reilly and his guard.
He wanted three, his customary detail, but I refused.
We have no reason to harm him, but every reason to be leery of anyone in his circle, seeing as we still haven’t identified the leak or the people intent on taking Ivy down.
Upon his arrival, I swing open the door.
He immediately offers his hand. “Mr. Wells, we meet at last.”
He’s about three inches shorter than my six-three stature with broad shoulders and blue eyes like Ivy’s.
Both his full head of brownish-auburn hair and short beard are speckled with gray.
At fifty-three, he’s retiring to enjoy what he’s earned and doing so while he’s still spry enough to mentor Ivy.
He’s also confident she’s far safer in the seat than as an heir apparent. He shared as much in our last call.
I return the firm shake. “It’s been a long time coming. Good to finally meet you, sir.”
He and his guard, who briefly introduces himself as Robert O’Reilly, strut into the suite, glancing around for Ivy and turning back to face me once her absence is registered.
“I don’t have to tell you how anxious I am to meet my baby girl,” he states firmly. “Long time coming is an understatement.”
I gesture to the dining table. “I’d like to discuss some things before Ivy joins us.
” Using her shortened name helps in keeping her full identity hidden—something we’ll only need to continue for the remainder of this meeting.
After that, KORT will know that Ivanna Kingston Wells is the missing O’Reilly heir.
He unbuttons his suit jacket, taking a seat at the table. “Fine.”
I join him, forgiving his clipped tone. I know I’m not the main event. “Can I offer you a drink?”
“Bourbon, if you have it.”
Gage clears his throat. “A bourbon man. I’ve got just the thing.” He pours O’Reilly an Old Rip Van Winkle 10 Year on the rocks and a glass of Macallan for me while I move us forward.
“Ivy and I were married in September.”
He scoffs, fingers tapping the table with a harrumph. “It wasn’t enough to gain the seat? You married her?”
Not sure why it matters to him, so I refrain from offering further explanation. “Yes.”
He accepts his bourbon from Gage with a gracious nod, eyes returning to me. “The board will see this as a breach of trust, a power play.”
“With all due respect, Mr. O’Reilly, I don’t give a flying fuck what anyone thinks. They have no leg to stand on here because it’s done. She’s mine. I’m the one who is delivering what no one else could, so it seems appreciation is more in order than mistrust.”
He wrenches his lips up, seemingly more amused by my bluntness than offended. “Certainly. I am appreciative. You’ve found her and kept her safe, no matter your motives. It will be noted.”
“My motive is her protection.” I swig a hefty gulp of my scotch, agitated that my motivations could possibly be called into question. “Her safety must be guaranteed, or she will not be accepting the seat.”
Ivy may think it’s up to her, but it isn’t. I won’t hesitate to upend this whole endeavor or erase us all if things go sideways, despite her decision.
His eyebrows knit with an indignant chuckle.
“As I’ve stated in the past, her well-being is also my top concern.
I didn’t spend twenty-three years searching for her to put her in harm’s way.
However, I am exempt from planning her trial and possibly her loyalty test for the marriage. My hands are tied there.”
That is, unfortunately, true and a fact that has my stomach in knots. Most people undergoing the trials have multiple connections, having grown up in the life. Ivy’s only ally is removed from speaking on her behalf because he chose her as his successor. It breeds a shitload of uncertainty.
“Understood,” I allow, acknowledging the bind he’s in. “I haven’t announced our marriage to the board, so when you pass it on, pass the warning on as well.”
He smirks. “Not prepared to do it yourself, having obtained the seat?” The reality of my fragile position hits him with that question. “Ahh, you’re awaiting your trial as well.”
“Yes.” A sigh huffs out of me, the weight of everything crashing into me at once. “Regarding that, Ivy doesn’t know I have a seat.”
“Why is that?” He tilts his head, lifting his glass with a taunting glare. “So protective yet secret keeping so soon?”
Although he’s her birth father, Ivy is mine, and explaining myself is not something I’m pleased to be doing. “I’ll tell her at the conclusion of her trial. She needs to focus on what she’ll be navigating, not worrying about me.”
His lips twitch with a thoughtful frown. “Noble.”
I swish the dwindling amber liquid around, setting the crystal glass back on the table with a clink. “My job as her husband is to place her needs above my own and protect her, Mr. O’Reilly. I will not allow anything or anyone to interfere with that.”
“Noted.” He taps a finger on the side of his glass, his gaze lifting to mine.
“You’re brazen, Mr. Wells, but I like you.
You and your team have managed impressive work, conquering a feat countless teams before you failed at, and I respect your no-nonsense approach to caring for my daughter.
I’ll share my approval with your grandfather and the board.
” He lifts his drink, pausing in thought. “Does Ivy know of your relation?”
“No.” I hate keeping anything else from her, but I don’t want her distracted by anything other than her own trial.
“Fine,” he says. “It will remain that way. May I meet her now?”
I flick my eyes to Gage, who leaves the room to open the adjoining door in the back living room of the suite. Moments later, Ivy saunters in, flanked by Liam and Ty, with Gage manning O’Reilly’s guard, Robert.
She offers her hand, combating the awkwardness I know she’s battling. “Mr. O’Reilly, it’s an honor to meet you.”
Standing to greet her, he takes her hand in both of his, eyes glossy.
“The honor is all mine, sweet girl. I …” He clears his throat, plainly choked up.
“I’ve waited for this moment for so long, and you are far more lovely than I could have imagined.
You favor your mother. She was incredibly beautiful. ”
Ivy swallows, obviously grappling with her discomfort. “Thank you.” She takes her seat beside me and across from him, smoothing her sensible forest-green dress down—the linen fabric and her three-strand pearl choker cover my marks completely, but I know they’re there.
Mine.
Her back stiffens ramrod straight in the chair, and her teeth snag her lower lip before she corrects and heaves a steadying breath.
Ty joins us at the table, choosing the chair at the end, centered between Ivy and our guest, while Liam hovers directly behind her, and Gage returns to his position after delivering a glass of lemonade to Ivy.
O’Reilly regains himself, a smile coasting across his face as he takes her in. “So, tell me about yourself, Ivy.”
She rolls her lips in, her eyes studying him for a beat. “What would you like to know, sir? My qualifications for the position or something else?”
He chuckles adoringly. “No, dear. For the moment, humor me as a father who is at last in the presence of the daughter stolen from him. Did you have a good childhood?”
Her hand reaches over to my lap, clutching mine for support as her voice quivers. “The best.”
To O’Reilly’s credit, he keeps his face unreadable with that admission. “I hear you’re quite close with your parents.”
“Very,” she confirms. “I’m not sure what to share here, how it will be received.
I only found out about you a week and a half ago, so while you’ve had over two decades to wonder about me, I’ve had days.
I don’t know if this will make it easier or if it will be hurtful, but all I can offer is my truth.
Which is to say, the man and woman who raised me are the best human beings on the planet.
They gave everything they had so I could have a fairy tale-worthy childhood.
I was loved and valued and encouraged.” Tears brim in her eyes, but she discreetly blinks them away before they fall. “I hope that brings you some peace.”
That’s my girl. So brave and well spoken. No apologizing and no lying. I’m overwhelmed with pride and awe.