32. Ivy
I drift awake to the feeling of Julian's arm locked around my waist, his broad chest pressed against my back. Sunlight filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting golden streaks across the twisted sheets. Every muscle in my body holds a delicious ache that brings memories of last night flooding back - his hands, his mouth, the way he claimed every inch of me over and over.
His breath fans against my neck, steady and deep. I try to shift but his grip only tightens, pulling me closer against the solid wall of his body. The heat of his skin bleeds into mine where we're touching.
"Going somewhere?" His voice comes out gravelly with sleep, lips brushing the sensitive spot behind my ear.
"Just stretching." I wince slightly as I move my legs. The pleasant soreness between my thighs reminds me of how thoroughly he reminded me who I belong to.
His hand splays across my stomach, fingertips tracing idle patterns on my skin. "Sore?"
"In the best way." I let my head fall back against his shoulder. His other arm slides under me, wrapping around my ribs until I'm completely caged in his embrace.
"What time is it?" I try to peek over at the clock but he distracts me by pressing open-mouthed kisses along my shoulder.
"Early." His stubble scrapes deliciously against my skin. "Christmas morning. And you're not leaving this bed anytime soon."
The possessive growl in his voice sends shivers down my spine. My body responds instantly, arching back against him despite the lingering ache. His grip tightens further, one hand sliding up to rest against my throat - not squeezing, just holding. Claiming.
"But Julian," I whine. "I love Christmas morning."
He sighs dramatically, and I look over at him with a teasing smile. Julian shifts behind me, reluctantly loosening his hold. "Stay here." His warmth disappears as he leaves the bed.
I watch him cross the room, admiring how the muscles in his back flex as he retrieves something from his suit jacket. When he returns, he places a small black velvet box on my bare stomach.
"Open it." His voice holds that commanding edge that makes my pulse race.
With trembling fingers, I lift the lid. Nestled in black silk is a platinum ring - delicate yet substantial, with an intricate pattern of interwoven bands studded with tiny diamonds. It's beautiful…and I think it's an engagement ring.
"This isn't..." I trace the metalwork with my fingertip.
"It is." He takes the ring from the box. "I want you to be mine in every way." His ice-blue eyes lock onto mine. "Give me your left hand."
I extend my hand, breath catching as he slides the ring onto my ring finger. The metal is cool against my skin, a perfect fit.
"Perfect," he murmurs, staring down at it.
"It is," I answer. I don't mind that he didn't ask me. I love the ring, I love him, and I want to marry him. I'll take it any way he gives it to me.
"Now your gift." My voice comes out barely above a whisper. I sit up, letting the sheets pool around my waist. "I give you everything. I don't want to go anywhere else." I lift my chin, baring my throat in submission. "I'm yours, Julian. Entirely yours. Even after the holidays. Even when other people try to get between us. I want you to know that I'll always give everything to you." I hold up my hand. "I think this is the perfect start to proving it."
His pupils dilate, turning his eyes nearly black. One large hand wraps around my throat, thumb pressing against my pulse point. "Say it again."
"I'm yours."
He pulls me into his lap, his other hand tangling in my hair. "Mine to protect." His grip tightens. "Mine to punish." His mouth brushes against mine. "Mine to pleasure."
"Yes." The word comes out breathless as his hand slides down my spine.
"Show me." He releases my throat to grip my hips. "Show me you mean it."
I arch into his touch, surrendering completely as his mouth claims mine in a bruising kiss. The ring catches the morning light, sparkling with each movement - a constant reminder of who I belong to now.
After another round of mind-blowing sex - now with my fiance - we finally make it out of bed. I trace the platinum ring on my finger as Julian moves around his penthouse kitchen, the muscles in his back rippling as he makes us coffee. The Christmas tree lights twinkle in the corner, casting warmth across his skin.
I stare at the glass birds, at the little rainbows that are cast from their bodies, and smile. The fact that a man like him, who deals in violence and power, would do something so tender for me makes my heart ache.
"Here." He hands me a steaming mug, his fingers brushing mine deliberately. The coffee is exactly how I like it.
I'm wearing nothing but his shirt, the fabric swimming on my small frame. His eyes darken every time he looks at me, that predatory gleam that both thrills and terrifies me. But beneath the dangerous exterior, I see how his expression softens when I smile at him, how he leans into my touch just like I do for him.
"Thank you for the perfect Christmas." I curl my legs under me on the leather couch. "I couldn't have asked for anything better."
He sits beside me, pulling me against his chest. His heartbeat thuds steady and strong under my ear. "No?"
I shake my head. "I have everything I need right here." My fingers trail over the scars on his torso - marks from a violent life I'm now part of. But instead of fear, I feel safe. Protected. This dangerous man who makes people disappear has become my shelter from the world.
His hand cups my face, thumb brushing my bottom lip. "You've changed everything." The words come out rough, like they're being dragged from somewhere deep inside him. "I never wanted anyone before you. Never needed anyone."
"And now?"
"Now I'd burn this city to the ground to keep you safe." There's no artifice in his voice, just raw truth. "I'd do anything for you, Ivy."
I press closer, breathing in his scent - expensive cologne and something uniquely him. "My big scary monster."
"Yours." His arms tighten around me possessively. "Always yours."
The ring catches the Christmas lights as I lift my hand to touch his face. It's a symbol of ownership, yes, but also of belonging. Of finding home in the most unexpected place - in the arms of a man who deals in darkness but holds me like I'm made of light.
It's perfect.
The End