5
OPEN FOR ME
HENRY
I vy fought hard. She tried to stand her ground and she lasted longer than most. It wasn’t a fair fight, not when the bond sweeping from me into her consumes the submissive partner in that moment. I imagine she found it confusing. It’s a shame, but it’s not like I can stop her from being overwhelmed.
She was always going to sway for me, but I enjoyed watching her struggle. Ivy fought hard enough for the priest to look concerned, worried she wasn’t surrendering as my strength overcame hers. She should have given up, but she didn’t. It ought to have annoyed me, but I found it admirable instead.
And then she fell.
She fell into my arms and everything clicked into place. For one brief moment, it was perfect. Nothing else mattered. There was she and I alone, and it was bliss .
I’m still holding her, irrevocably devoted and in love. She’s perfect. She’s heaven. She’s mine. Only mine. Always mine. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.
Fuck, I want her. More than that, I need her. I can’t be without her. If I needed to breathe, then I’d need her more than I need oxygen. I no longer exist without her. Fuck.
“Complete this,” the priest says, reminding me of something I hadn’t forgotten.
I know what I need to do.
I also know Ivy wouldn’t consent to this.
What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, not for this. We need to complete this bond. She needs its safety and I need to own her. I need this. I need her.
Ivy’s head lolls to one side and it’s fucking perfect. I’ll be gentle. I won’t go deep. I’ll keep control. I’ll bind Ivy to me and we can move on. She’ll be happier. She’ll find things easier. She’ll want to please me and we can play more interesting games.
My fangs grow longer and I dip my head, mouthing her skin. It’s soft. It’s unbroken. It’s perfect and it’s mine.
She whimpers as my teeth pierce her skin and the sensation is like nothing else I’ve known. It’s crisp and rich and the taste is heaven. I might as well be tasting ambrosia and it’s hard to stop. Her taste is addictive and I’ll have to watch myself.
It would be easy to spiral out of control.
It would be easy to take everything I want from her.
It would be easy to kill her.
Ivy’s lips part and she sighs, moaning as the trace of venom I’ve left takes hold. It doesn’t sway her and it won’t give her real pleasure, but it’s cushioned the sting of my bite and she’s earned the small reward. In time, she’ll crave it, learning the easiest way to earn it is obedience. It pains me to know I’ll have to wait before she’s truly compliant.
If she were a vampire, then she’d be biting me in return, but her blunt human teeth will do minor damage. Ryan deliberately didn’t explain this part to her and she won’t know what to do—and I’d convinced the priest this would happen because she’s human. Mates are rare among vampires. Human mates are unheard of and the only reason I hadn’t turned her already was because the idiotic priests insisted she had to accept it first.
I bite my lip and a little blood spills. I lower my mouth onto hers and slip my tongue into her mouth. She barely fights and tastes of honey and amber. It’s sweet and earthy, promising a thousand pleasures and unlimited desire. Her lips move and I let my kiss deepen, careful not to let her have too much blood.
She’ll get high, and that will ruin my other plans for tonight.
Ivy whimpers into my mouth and I break the kiss. Her lips are slightly swollen and a deeper shade of pink. By the end of the night, I’ll turn them red. She’ll thank me for it.
Her little body sinks against mine and she surrenders, letting me take her weight. The noble part of me hopes it’s the start of trust. The rest of me doesn’t give a single shit why she’s doing it, enjoying the way her chest sits on mine and the heat of her breath as it hits my skin.
The priest waves his arms and finishes his incantations, convinced our bond is equal and entered in to freely. The Brotherhood wouldn’t be impressed to discover the truth, and the repercussions would be severe. But they insisted I couldn’t turn Ivy unless she asked or is near death, and needs must.
This is the only way to keep her safe.
The ends justify the means .
I’d do it again in a heartbeat if I had one.
I won’t feel guilty.
I hate she’s making me regret this.
“Ivy?”
Her tiny fingers massage my chest as they cling, and it’s fucking adorable. I’m purring as she molds herself to me. Ivy isn’t aware she’s doing it and wouldn’t comprehend why, but her need to connect with me is taking over.
The priest finishes his stupid rites and leaves, blessing my coven and our future before he departs. He tries my patience and Ryan intervenes, carefully hurrying him along and playing the perfect diplomat. He ushers him out of the front door without appearing rude, and I visibly relax when he slams the bolt home.
She’s mine.
She’s mine at last.
To tease and torture. To please and possess. To fuck. Over and over, until she’s screaming and crying, caught between pleasure and pain. I want it all. Every moan, every breath, every cry. Every goddamn tear. She’s mine to use and give to—and I’ll kill anyone who even thinks about harming the connection between us.
Ryan turns and his eyes meet mine.
“The coven expects to meet her.”
I snarl at the thought of having to wait longer. It’s been too long already and Ivy deserves my attention. All of it, in every way I choose to allow.
“I’ll explain you have other plans,” Ryan says, failing to conceal his smirk. “They’ll understand, but we shouldn’t wait too long before introducing her.”
The last thing on my mind is how to introduce her to my coven. It won’t happen until I’m satisfied Ivy has accepted her place. They can wait. I cannot.
I’m dangerously possessive, and one false move could provoke an unfortunate response. I’d regret it later, but that wouldn’t stop me from lashing out now. I’m too excited, too consumed. Anyone getting in the way of what I want is likely to experience the extent of my power, and Ryan stands still, reading my mood with unnerving accuracy.
“Fresh refreshments were sent to her room. Would you prefer I send them to yours?”
I shake my head and he bows his.
Ivy moans again and I snatch her into my arms, clutching her against me as I turn and race to her bedroom. I’d prefer my room, but she’ll be more comfortable in hers and we don’t need any further delays. She senses my agitation—or determination—and her delicate heart races. I’m surprised something so small puts her on edge, but things will change by the end of tonight.
I lock the door behind me, preventing unwanted interruptions.
“I don’t feel…”
“It’s okay,” I say, gently. “I’ve got you now.”
Her glazed over eyes stare at me, reaching for me through her daze. I don’t like it. I want their spark, their fire. I want them to dazzle me again. I want her resistance so I can crush it.
“I feel funny,” she mumbles. “What happened?”
I press a soft kiss against her forehead and she doesn’t flinch. It’s good. She’s accepted this, accepted me. I’d prefer her to show me, but she is too stunned to react.
“You fainted, Ivy. You haven’t eaten enough.”
“Is it done? ”
Her eyes well with tears and I don’t want them. Not over this. Not at the thought of being my wife. She isn’t and she won’t understand the nuances of what we are and the difference between our ties and those of marriage. She doesn’t understand how significant she is to me, yet she’s upset by being something even less important.
“The wedding?” I swallow, hoping I’m mistaken.
She nods and I wish she hadn’t.
“Yes,” I say. “You’re mine.”
Ivy stutters.
“And I’m yours.”
She cries.
I don’t want these tears. Not these bitter, broken ones made from disgust and loathing.
“It’s okay. You’ll understand. In time, you’ll realize how precious you are.”
Her lip trembles, and she’s on the verge of collapse. She’s about to plunge into despair and I won’t let this happen. Not tonight. Neither of us deserves this.
“You’ve barely eaten since you arrived. You’ll feel better once you’ve had food.” I risk appearing desperate and she seems confused. “Please, Ivy. Eat.” I double down and swallow. “For me. Just a little. Please.”
Her teeth roll over her bottom lip and she resists the urge to bite it. Ivy’s hungry and she’s torn, eager to eat, but resisting anything I offer on principle. Her eyes flick to the buffet and back to mine, and there’s a spark again. She needs a little push and I dip my head, begging her to give in.
“Fine,” she says, huffing.
I refuse to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory and I place her on the sofa, fetching a small plate of food. She reaches for it and when I pull it back, her eyebrows furrow. She hasn’t played this game before and although I won’t push it tonight, teaching her manners is going to be both excruciating and exhilarating.
Ivy watches as I hold a canape in front of her mouth. Her eyes widen, but her pupils dilate and her jaw nudges forward ever so slightly. Ivy has guessed the game and she doesn’t like it. She’s hungry and she’s convincing herself she’s being clever by resisting.
She isn’t and I’m going to win this.
“Open.”
She shakes her head. “You’re not feeding me.”
“You’re my wife,” I say. “Let me provide for you.”
Her lips purse and she frowns. She fights like she’s a fire from hell and I force myself to still. I need her submission and if she realizes exactly how much I crave it, then she’ll deny me out of spite.
I inch the canape closer and her eyes fall to it. Her jaw moves and I smell the saliva pooling in her mouth. She’s about to toss her head in protest when she stops herself, stuck between her pride and her desperation to surrender and eat.
“Open,” I repeat. “For me.”
Her bottom lip falls and I rest the canape between her lips, forcing her to move to take it from my fingers. She jerks back and eats greedily, staring at me like a starved creature as she swallows.
I select another canape and rage flashes through her emerald irises as I hold it before her.
“Again.” I pause. “Please.”
Ivy growls.
She fucking growls at me .
Like a savage animal deprived of its kill.
I fucking love it and I want more. I want her aggression, I want her anger. I want her goddamn submission and I don’t care how much it hurts her. She’s humiliated and she doesn’t like it, but her mouth opens and she takes a second bite.
“Good girl.”
I offer her another piece of food and she debates whether she wants it. I sit impassively, waiting for her to give in. I’m not pleading this time. I’m not making this easier. She’s had my help and now she can do this alone.
“Open, Ivy.”
Her jaw tightens. She sniffs and takes a fraught breath. “How much?”
I arch an eyebrow. We both know the answer and she’s testing my resolve. It’s a minor challenge and the start of a long, drawn-out fight I’ll win. She’ll choose how hard this is, but I’ve already chosen the outcome.
“Open.”
Ivy fidgets as her gaze moves between my face, the food, and the plate. She rolls her eyes and opens her mouth unnecessarily wide. Her manners are appalling and we will be working on them once I have her obedience. For now, all I need is compliance.
We continue this dance until the plate is empty. Ivy nods as she swallows the last mouthful, and I’m tempted to ask her to thank me. She pouts and pulls away, retreating to the corner of the sofa.
“Dessert?” I ask.
The look of incandescent rage she sends makes my cock wake up. I’ve been fighting my arousal, but my resolve just broke, and I turn, trying to ignore the image of her sucking dessert from something much more enjoyable than my fingers.
Fuck, I’m hard already.
“I asked you a question, Ivy.”
My tone is tense and it’s got nothing to do with the goddamn food. I’m ready to march across the room and rip that perfect silk dress to shreds as I devour her breasts and fuck her hard. I wouldn’t stop and her screams would only make me screw her harder. It’s so damn tempting. Almost impossible to resist.
“Does my answer make a difference?”
Yes. No. Sometimes. Always. Never .
Fuck, I want to explain this to her. It’s too damn complicated, too damn much. But I’ve pulled her back from the brink once tonight and the intricacies of this will terrify her.
I can’t. I won’t.
It isn’t because it’ll stop me from getting what I want.
It’s because I want to be kind. To her . For her . She deserves it and needs it, even if she hasn’t earned it.
It’s the very thing I swore I’d never be. It’s a fucking weakness and yet I’d gladly give it for nothing more than her goddamn happiness.
“Of course it does.”
I lie. I fucking lie.
I contemplate if it’s a kindness as I wait for the simple, complicated girl who’s become all my reasons to make her choice—and either damn or save us both.
“This is just tonight.”
I grin and thank fuck my back is turned as I select some bite-size cakes. Ivy huffs and I hear her turn, and I walk back without her seeing my erection. I sit close enough to box her in and she snaps back around, startled .
“Open.”
And like an obedient pet, she lets me place a profiterole in her perfect mouth. Her eyes shoot open and she moans, unable to stop herself sucking cream from my fingers.
My dick jerks and I ignore it.
I won’t be able to much longer.
Fuck .
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.