45. Adrian
The small amount of light that filtered into the alley reflected off Ivory’s skin and shone like veins of amethyst in the cascade of her hair, casting a mystic aura around his intoxicating witch.
He hesitated, frozen in this moment. They were treading a thin line—caught between allowing her a glimpse of his darkness and falling victim to the depth of his emotion—with anyone else, he wouldn’t try to cross it, but he trusted her to use their safe word if needed. He trusted her to be everything he needed.
Even if it meant letting himself break. For her.
“I like you like this,” she said under her breath. “All dark and dangerous.”
His fingers skimmed down to her thighs, dancing under the hem of her dress in an illusion of tenderness. It wouldn’t be long before Cortez arrived, and he was already strung so tight. He couldn’t be gentle like last time.
The thing was, he didn’t want to be gentle.
“Hell,” he cursed. “You have no idea what real danger is, sweetheart.”
He slapped the inside of her thigh, and she gasped as he slotted himself between her legs. The position forced her against the wall, trapping her between the brick and his hard body. Her submission fueled his desire, ignited a surge of power that overcame the rest of his pain and despair.
“But if you want dark,” he continued. “I’ll give you pitch black.”
If she wanted to tame his demons, he’d let her. If she wanted his darkness to come out unleashed, he’d open the gate.
She believed he was capable, trusted him with her body enough to give him full control. To her, he was more than a black knight. To her, he could play god and the devil, and he’d be damned if he didn’t try his best to live up to both.
“Look at you,” he growled, low enough for only them to hear, even though they were alone. “Such a pathetic, pretty little thing. Caught in an alley with someone like me.”
Someone who fails the people who love him the most.
Her eyes closed as he licked along her pulse, the sweet saltiness of her skin driving him mad and granting him sanity at the same time. A moan resonated from her throat, and he drew his hand up to wrap around her neck, plucking at her nipple as he went.
“I could make you my personal slut,” he whispered, stroking her clit through her panties. “Bet you’d like that, hm? Letting me fuck you? Letting me toy with your soul?”
“Yes,” she moaned. “Please, sir.”
“That’s my fucking good girl.” He forced a finger through her drenched folds, grinding it hard against the rough patch of her g-spot. She cried out, and he slapped his palm against her clit. “Hush now.”
She clamped her mouth shut as he started to tease her again. Her thighs quivered, pinned apart and dripping with arousal.
“Look at that. You’re about to come already.” He chuckled. “All from just one finger. Can’t wait to see the look on your face when you take my entire cock.” The strain of his erection spread into his abdomen, tightening his balls and hooking deep in his groin, but he wouldn’t have to wait long.
He turned her chin with his thumb and made her look in his eyes. “I love seeing you struggle. Making you squirm. Damn, you’re too good for me, but I’m going to destroy you anyway.” He had to pause to catch his breath. “Tell me, sweetheart, how many inches have you earned?”
“Three?” she squeaked, uncertain as she struggled to form words.
He hummed, working his finger in and out at a slow, steady pace. She’d already coated him in nectar, her pussy weeping in relief. “Correct. But I’ll be nice and give you four because you took me so well in your tight throat today.”
Her eyes widened, and a brief flash of pride lifted the corners of her mouth. Then he thrust in another finger with cruel thrusts, just to watch her come apart. Her head fell back with a silent wail, thighs quivering, sex pulsing as she came.
He tightened his grip on her throat, unable and unwilling to let her savor the moment. “Left arm above your head.”
He grabbed the gun from his waist and checked the safety, then pressed the side of the barrel to her wrist and pined it with the metal. She let out a breathless moan.
“Now be a good little slut and take out my dick,” he rasped.
She reached down and fumbled with his zipper. His witch was so diligent, so careful with her meticulous movements—the very opposite of the crude display of lust that sprung into her hand. His erection grew all the more enraged at her touch, veins full and swollen, the tip flared and shiny as she smeared a pearl of his leaking precum.
Sliding his hand over hers, he caged her palm against his dick and guided her fingers to grip him where he wanted, leaving four inches at the top. “Just like that,” he breathed.
He didn’t need to tell her not to let go. She’d do exactly as he asked, which is why he made her do it. All it would take was one push too far, one impulse left unchecked to break their rules. And at the moment, it took all he had not to tear into her cunt and lose every last shred of himself.
To admit he wanted to ask her for more than he had any right to.
Something moved behind her eyes as if she knew what he couldn’t say and could see what he couldn’t hide. But then it was gone, her pupils blown wide as he parted her folds and ran himself along her slit.
“You’re going to take me in that pretty pussy of yours and let me fill it with my cum,” he rasped. “I’m going to pump you full of my seed until it’s dripping down your thighs, and when we go back inside, you’ll be a good girl and let me reach under your dress to stuff it back in.”
She couldn’t hold back a strangled whine as he pushed into her, satisfying his lust yet barely scratching a deeper, more persistent need. He lifted her thigh and filled her as much as he was allowed.
His fingers dented her skin, rough and demanding against her yielding softness. Sawing in and out, he picked up the pace and matched the beat of his racing heart with every thrust, propelling them toward the finish line. An electric web banded over his nerves, flaring the network of heat that wound from where they merged. Faint light tinged the edges of his vision and infiltrated his mind until he couldn’t see—only feel. Only exist in Ivory’s body, in her whispered moans and gentle quivers.
“Adrian,” she mumbled.
He leaned in and covered her lips with his, wanting to taste her affection, to let it melt on his tongue as he set them both ablaze.
“Adrian,” she repeated, the words leaving her mouth to enter his. Her hand gripped his length tighter. “I need—” She cut off as he angled upwards and hit her sweet spot, her stomach pulling taut and walls contracting.
“I know,” he whispered. “Come for me, sweetheart.” The rasp of his breath filled his ears, chest heaving as his body crowded her in. She was trapped and exposed, flushed with her dress pushed up, her underwear pulled aside to reveal her swollen, glistening clit . Nothing left hidden between them.
“I need to say that I love you,” she gasped.
He stopped, dazed. Her admission struck him in the center of his chest—a direct hit to the core of his being that shook him to the bone.
“You needed to know,” she said, breathless as she pulsed around him. The throb of her heart overtook his own.
That was it, the truth he denied himself. The words he wanted but refused to accept.
She loved him.
“Dammit,” he cursed. “I love you too, Iv.” He fused their lips as her folds sucked him in, swallowing him up and letting him take everything he wanted. So he took. He took and took, and she gave everything she had. Despite his failings, she wanted him. All of him. Even the parts no other person would desire.
Somehow, as sweat dripped down his spine and an ache seared through his ribs, his taking became her taking. Her giving became his giving. So he gave and gave until she took everything he had to offer.
Before he could prepare, he was coming—coming so hard it erupted hot and thick in a never-ending purge. He poured himself deep inside her womb, and still, he was coming. Still, there was more.
For a tiny, infinite moment, he saw Ivory with her stomach round and beautiful, full of evidence of their connection. Carrying a life they created.
With a broken groan, the vision faded, and at last, he emptied himself completely. They slumped together into the wall, entwined in a sweaty, sticky mess.
“I love you,” Ivory whispered again, capturing his lips in a kiss so delicate it betrayed the kind of sex they’d just had.
“I know,” he replied, unable to keep the edge of longing from his voice. “I love you, too.”