39. Ivy
39
IVY
He’s all over me in an instant, dragging me to my feet, stealing my mouth while a strong arm pulls me against his chest.
His kiss is desperate, severe, like he’s staking a claim, grounding himself in the reality of our entwined future. Then I’m lifted, carried, my boneless body placed in the middle of the mattress for him to ravage.
His lips leave mine, trailing a path of fire along my jaw, down my throat, over sensitive skin and tingling nerves.
My name is murmured, over and over. An oath. A consecration.
“What does this mean for us, mi reina ?” He decimates my collarbone with his mouth, teeth grazing, tongue soothing. “Are you mine?”
I cling to his shoulder, desperate to concede, but still hesitant to let myself fall into whatever disaster this is destined to become. “I don’t know.”
“Then let me make the choice for you,” he growls against my sternum, his stubble grazing a line toward my cleavage. “Everything I touch is now mine.” He splays his hands over my ribs, dragging down my towel, his thumbs brushing the curves of my breasts. “Everything I see belongs to me.” He grazes his calloused hands down my stomach, circling my waist as he raises his gaze to mine. “Understood?”
I bite my bottom lip, my pulse chaotic with ungodly anti-feminist exhilaration.
“You’re mine. Both of you. Mine. ” He dips his head, his tongue tracing my pebbled nipple, his lips closing over the sensitive peak. “We’re not fighting this anymore. We’ll learn to trust it. To trust each other.”
I arch into him, already trusting him, already wanting everything he has to offer. It’s the trauma of my past that makes me hesitant.
A needy whimper is my only response while his mouth works its magic, his touch possessive yet reverent. Controlling but also exquisitely tender.
Then his hand delves lower, past my waist, over my abdomen to the place where our child grows.
Those steely eyes hold mine, blazing with the unwavering loyalty of an army sworn to defend.
“I will protect you both with my life.” He slides down my body, kissing the underside of my breast. Above my belly button. “I vow it, mi reina. ” The third kiss is placed upon the healing scar on my stomach. A tender pledge.
“Your life won’t be put at risk for ours.” I glide my fingers through his hair. “We can’t live without you here to protect us.”
“You can if the Baltimore cartel are gone.” He crawls back up my body, settling his hips gently atop mine, his hard cock teasing between my thighs.
“And all the other factions of the cartel? What about those? What about the counterparts in New York or Seattle or LA? They’ll come for you. For us .”
“Not when my actions are justified. Gabriel is threatening my child.”
“I’m his child…” I rise onto my elbows. “At least, I was.”
“Not anymore.” He steals my mouth with a kiss. “Now you belong to me.”
I moan, wanting to give in, needing to, yearning to.
“Your safety isn’t a problem you need to think about anymore,” he growls against my lips. “It’s my responsibility.”
“That’s some crazy caveman sh?—”
His mouth slams harder against mine, stealing my breath, sucking my bottom lip. “You haven’t seen caveman yet.” He tilts his hips, guiding the head of his cock to my entrance. “But I’m sure you will.”
He thrusts, sinking the hard length of him inside me.
I shudder, my walls clamping down around him.
He rests his weight on one elbow as his free hand slides between us, gliding down my body, pausing and rubbing a gentle thumb over my abdomen before reaching its final destination between my thighs.
He searches a moment, barely a bated breath, then, like a homing beacon, he finds my clit, the first touch exquisite—the awakening of nerve endings, the spark of sheer bliss.
“I’m going to fuck you now, mi reina .” He holds my gaze, watching like always for any sign of pain. Then he makes good on his promise, grinding, thrusting—kissing and touching and possessing me with animalistic abandon until I’m a mindless mess, my legs wrapped around him, my hands clinging.
He doesn’t stop until I come undone, his name on my lips like a prayer, his face buried in my neck, teeth biting, body covered in sweat as he follows me over the edge.
For a long moment, we’re motionless, tangled in sheets and limbs, breaths heavy and uneven. We lie there, the quiet feeling heavy, almost sacred as his mouth brushes my temple, the soft thud of his heartbeat echoing against my chest.
I trail my fingers along his spine, delighting in the silken texture of his skin, like I’ve done so many times before, but never seem to get enough.
It’s in these moments after the lust-filled rush—where my head goes quiet and my heart lowers its barriers—that I find myself tethered to him beyond reason.
It’s a dangerous attachment that has little to do with physical attraction and everything to do with the man who holds me like I’m a treasure he’d fight to the death to defend.
I should run. Escape before this entanglement takes further root and I fall even deeper into the abyss of him. But my body betrays me, curling closer, seeking his warmth like I won’t be able to breathe without it.
“Shower with me again.” He pulls back, his body freeing itself from mine as he holds out a hand.
“No, thank you. I’m not falling for that trick twice in less than an hour.”
He smirks and moves to his feet. “Consider it an open-ended offer if you change your mind.” He walks his flawless ass to the bathroom while I remain in his bed, feeling a little too warm and way too fuzzy inside.
It’s scary, this feeling of wanting someone. Needing them.
I find myself desperate to cling to him, to always be in his presence, while also equally frantic to place distance between us for the sake of the inevitable devastation that’s to come.
Good things aren’t meant for me. Gabriel will always see to that… but what if I did give Salvatore my blessing for his plan, under the proviso that any action taken is done without threat to his own life?
Then maybe I could be free—no longer needing to dull my shine or minimize my friendship circle. I wouldn’t have to return to my apartment every day wondering if a dead animal or blood-stained threat awaited me.
And my child would never have to face the same horror.
They could be happy. Safe. Unburdened by my past.
The possibility sits heavily on my chest, a brutal kind of hope that wraps its optimistic tendrils around me.
I’m still obsessing over the image, getting more excited about a future with freedom when Salvatore returns to the room, towel around his hips, perfection on display.
“You realize agreeing to have my child is only making me more inclined to lock you in a room and keep you there for the remaining months of the pregnancy, right?” He walks to the closet as if he owns the damn place, snatching a fresh button-down and slipping it on like a homicidal GQ model preparing to take the runway.
“In that case, ninito , I’ll endeavor to make sure I’m armed and at the ready for a battle of epic proportions if your dumb ass ever decides to make good on that threat. But just be aware, I’ll aim low and directly for the body part responsible for putting me in this pregnancy predicament.”
He smirks as he does up his buttons. “It’d be a nice room though. Large windows. Beautiful view. Maybe I’d even let Olivia visit.”
I roll my eyes. “The pertinent question is—would you be able to grant her access while bleeding out from a phallus wound?”
He approaches my side of the bed, leans down, and kisses me. “Fine. No confinement. But how about a tracker? I could put it?—”
I deepen the kiss, cutting off his words with a swipe of my tongue. “No trackers. No restrictions. No rules. Otherwise you’ll see a side of me reserved for the devil.”
“You mean I haven’t already?”
“Not even close, big boy.”
He snickers against my lips. “Well, I like my trouble with a little fire, mi reina. I can’t wait to have your worst.”
I bat at his chest. “It’s your funeral.”
He grabs me around the back of the neck, forcing his mouth to remain on mine, making me all tingly and giddy while the evidence of our recent encounter seeps from between my thighs.
“Go.” I pull away, unwilling to fall victim to his charms again. “Call your uncle. Make him listen to your plan.”
He stills, frowns, his hand falling to his side. “You want me to discuss it with him?”
I drag in a strengthening breath and nod. “Only under one condition.”
His expression hardens, the line from playful to professional now fully crossed. “I’m listening.”
“You don’t get hurt.” I steel my shoulders, feigning authority I don’t feel. “Whatever strategy you decide on, it’s to be done carefully, planned slowly , with no risk to your life. Otherwise you don’t have my blessing, Salvatore. Do you understand?”
He straightens, silent in a brief moment of contemplation before he nods.
“Say it.” The demand comes out all pleading and weak. “I want to hear you say the words. To make the promise.”
“Ivy, I’m not going to do anything reckless. Not now.” Conviction stares back at me, but it’s not enough to temper my gnawing fear. “You just told me you’re having my baby. I’m not going to let you go through that alone. Not when it’ll be the highlight of my fucking life.”
My heart flip-flops, panging and bleeding and engaging in all those other ill-gotten romantic urges that have never come naturally to me.
“Good.” I bat him away again, needing privacy to pull myself back from the brink of feminine frailty. “Get to it, then. I need another shower to wash your filth off of me.”
“But I like you like this.” His grin is slow and sinful. “Always wet and dripping with my?—”
“ Leave, Salvatore.” I chuckle around the order. “Don’t make me regret you.”
“Impossible. Regrets are for people who hold back, and you never do with me. At least not in the bedroom.” He fastens his belt as he walks for the door. “Think of me while you shower.”