6
BE A GOOD GIRL
HENRY
“W hat now?”
Ivy curls up as she stops trying to pull away, trapped between me and the arm of the sofa. She stares into the distance, waiting for the executioner’s axe to fall—and I can’t find it in me to deliver the lethal blow my ruthless instincts tell me I should.
She’s behaving like a spoiled brat. She’s also terrified and I don’t understand why. Ivy’s known the expectations of our arrangement and I’ve given her time to come to terms with the bargain her father struck.
I’ve fed her. I’ve been reasonable. Considerate. Certainly patient.
I could have manipulated her and I haven’t. I’ve allowed her to have her head and now she’s pulling against me, railing against what should be second nature to her .
But this isn’t the time to press her. Especially not when her defiance turns her eyes into beacons calling to me like a lighthouse in a storm.
My arm stretches over the back of the chair as I recline, oozing confidence. I smile easily as my gaze wanders over her body, following the creases of her dress as they cover her curves. Or not, depending on how the fabric falls.
“We both know the answer, Ivy.”
She swallows and her hand trembles. Her ivory skin turns deathly white and her heart skips a beat before it judders to life. The girl whose braveness defies me needs a gentler touch. She’s fascinating and it’s another piece of a puzzle I don’t understand.
“We figure this out,” I say, offering her the lifeline her silence screams she needs.
It hurts. But it’s necessary.
It’s a kindness cruel enough to make her trust me.
Her eyes flick back and flood with relief.
“Why are you doing this?” Ivy asks.
My head tilts, confused. I wonder if her question is vague because she doesn’t know what she’s asking. Her expression screams certainty but her scent floods the room with doubt. She isn’t trying to trick me, nor figure out how I work. She’s still lost and she needs guiding through this.
“You’re beautiful.”
Her eyes bulge as heat flushes up her neck and spreads over her cheeks. She gnaws her lip and I could devour her even though I’m as startled as she is, shocked by her response. Her heart’s fluttering and her breathing’s faltering, like she’s never been told this before. It’s incredible and impossible, and she’s made me feel warm. Special. Almost alive.
“You are,” I say in a barely audible voice .
Her blush deepens and she squirms. Fuck, the things I want to do to her are driving me insane and I’m desperate for her to be ready. I’m desperate to dive between those legs of hers and fuck her until my cock’s imprinted on her pussy. Until she knows who owns it.
“I don’t want you because you’re convenient, Ivy. I want you because you’re perfect.”
She swallows and struggles to hold my gaze. It's almost impossible to discern the emotions crashing through her as they swing so violently from one to another. She doesn't believe me. She's skeptical, cynical, and utterly convinced I'm out to screw her over. I am, just not like that. Not in a way she won't take pleasure from.
Maybe she needs a different kind of help. Another lifeline to stop her from drowning in the ocean of her emotions. She must be overwhelmed. It must be a lot to process. Now she's bound to me, I could nudge her along. I could soothe her soul and ease her anxiety. It wouldn't be taking away her free will, more coaxing her to where she's too afraid to venture.
“You'll settle soon. Things will get easier. I promise.”
Her nose twitches, and she thinks they should be easy already. She’s a romantic and I bet the flowers made the right impression, despite her protests. The painting too.
And then she shakes her head, dismissing any idea about us moving closer together.
This has gone on too long.
I've indulged her far too much.
She needs to stop resisting the inevitable and accept her place as my mate.
“May I?” I ask, surprising myself when I offer her my hand instead of wrapping it around her throat.
“I...” Ivy almost takes it but stops at the last moment. “ Why?”
I smile. “Why not?”
“What do you want, Henry?”
Her.
I want her.
Everyinch of her body and every morsel of her soul. I want her laughter and her tears, her agony and ecstasy. I want her to accept I'm her Master and I'll provide whatever I deem necessary for her.
“I want you to be happy, Ivy.”
It isn't a lie .
“I want to make you happy.”
That isn’t a lie either .
“I want to give you everything you need. I want us to be happy together.”
That’s also true .
“I want you to trust me.”
That’s absolutely fucking true .
“It'll take a while and I'm in no rush.”
I'm practically immortal and she will be too soon. We have all the fucking time in the world. Not that I’m going to go that slowly.
“I'm offering you the world, Ivy. My world. Everything I can. Take my hand. We'll start small. Start slow.”
I'll have you under my control and desperate for my attention in minutes.
Just. Take. My. Fucking. Hand .
Her eyes search mine for deceit and I've had enough practice to fool her. Ivy thinks she's buying herself time as she glides her fingers over mine.
“Slowly,” she says, firmly.
I nod and close my hand around hers. She sighs and bites her lip, and it's more than I can bear. I pull her against me, wrapping my arm around her and letting her scent and touch consume me.
“This. Isn't. Slowly.”
Her voice is hard but her body isn't, and it presses against me. Her mind might fight this, but she's already accepting me. I purr and run my fingers down one arm, humming as she wriggles.
“Your skin’s as soft as velvet,” I whisper and she blushes again. “You can relax now, Ivy. I've got you. You're safe.”
She grunts a small protest and sinks against me. Her heart pounds and she lifts her hands up, kneading my chest like a kitten. Ivy pulls her legs underneath her and curls herself onto my lap. She sighs and I let her breathe, giving her a few moments to adjust before I push forward.
I hush and soothe her. My cock twitches as she accidentally brushes against it and I’m relieved she doesn’t withdraw.
Gods, she's perfect and I can't wait to play with her.
My arousal’s demanding I move faster, but it’s more satisfying if she’ll give me her submission freely. Ivy adjusts herself again and her knees drop to either side of mine. Our heads jerk up and my eyes meet hers, recognizing my surprise reflected in her expression.
“Ivy,” I rasp.
She blinks, as if she’s never heard anyone breathe her name.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper and dip my head .
Her pupils dilate and her heart rate soars. The bitter smell of adrenaline taints the sweetness of her scent as her nervousness gets the better of her. Ivy flutters her eyelids and I seize this moment, deciding the consequences can fuck themselves.
I drop my lips to meet hers and kiss her. Ivy squeals and my hands grab the back of her head, holding her in place. Her body stiffens as she pushes back, but I’m far too strong and my lips roll over hers, forcing them apart. My tongue slips into her mouth and it moves deeper when she moans in protest.
I push my arousal through our bond. She doesn’t recognize our connection, but it’s got her in its grasp and my emotions flow into her, clashing with her own. Ivy’s fist pounds my chest while her lips start moving against mine and her tongue darts into my mouth. Her mind’s changing and she doesn’t know what to make of it.
I break our kiss and she stares, shaking and confused. She’s unsure what happened, puzzled because she enjoyed it. Ivy doesn’t know whether to slap me or kiss me, and I love her predicament, enjoying every second of her dilemma.
My teeth graze my bottom lip and I taste blood. My fingers tighten in her hair and it’s softer than I thought it would be, but that doesn’t stop me yanking it. This time, I crash my lips onto hers and let her taste my blood, certain it’ll make her crave me more.
Ivy whimpers as my tongue plays with her and her back arches as she rises to meet me.
Fuck, she’s perfect—and fucking responsive.
I growl even though I’m still kissing her and her kiss becomes more frantic. She’s more than relaxing into this. She wants more. Her fingers claw my body and I loosen my hold, letting her work for what she wants. This doesn’t need to be forced, not now. She’s mine, and I intend to use her for my pleasure, as well as hers.
My cock strains against my trousers and the ache is painful. I’d have fucked her already if my dick was in charge, but I intend to savor the anticipation. Pleasuring her now will make her want more later and my pet deserves a reward for overcoming her fear.
I play with Ivy’s hair, moving my hands through its curls and over the exposed skin of her back. Her hands move down my chest in time with mine and she starts shaking when they find the buttons of my shirt. Her fingers flutter against me and another ripple of hesitation turns into a tsunami of doubt.
Fuck it.
I didn’t want to do this, but she’s given me no choice.
I’m too aroused, too lost in her to stop now. She’s so damn perfect I have to have her. I need her. She completes me and this is meant to be. It’s certain and a flash of dominance threatens to turn me feral with want.
My fingers dig into her, and my head wraps around her neck. Her scent is intoxicating and it’s stronger over the pulse point. I don’t hesitate and pleasure washes over me as I bite her, gently sucking and playing with her. My fangs pierce her skin, and I resist the urge to plunge them as deep as they go when Ivy whimpers.
She only needs a little venom.
She deserves the release from tension.
She should experience the pleasure it brings.
I don’t care if I’m lying when I tell myself it’s for her own good. It is, and Ivy stops crying, giving in as the sting subsides. Soon, she’ll know the bliss of my venom and surrender to me.
I don’t have to work anymore. I can relax and enjoy this—enjoy her—certain she’ll let me take her. I moan and she responds, exploring my chest with her fingers, and the sensation is unlike anything I’ve known.
And I’ve known many women. Many were skilled lovers. Some were courtesans to emperors. But none have ever made me feel like this, never given me this pleasure.
Ivy is divine. Her touch is heaven. Her taste is ambrosia. She’s as addictive as my venom is to mortals, and I’m irrevocably lost. I’m so consumed by the feel of her as I plant kisses along her collarbone that I don’t notice her grinding into me until I’m moving with her.
My cock rubs against my zipper, and she rubs herself against it as the pressure makes it twitch. I’m fucking dripping and I need to know if she’s as wet as I think she is. My hands drop to her thighs and pull the silk of her dress up, groaning when it can’t stretch any further.
“Fuck it,” I growl against her chest.
Ivy’s mouth drops as I rip the damn dress apart in one swift movement. She’s wearing the lingerie I requested and the sight of her is all my fantasies come true. I take my time, searing her image to my memory and noting every freckle adorning her porcelain skin. Her breathing changes and her breasts heave, catching my eye, and my perfect mate doesn’t shy away as I gaze at them.
My index finger trails down her center and she moans in pleasure, sending a pulse straight to my dick. Her lips part and I’m tempted to wrap them around my cock. I’m sure she’d love to please me and she deserves her reward, but I have a different one in mind.
“Lie back for me, Ivy.”
She leans forward, begging for another kiss. I enjoy her lips pressing against mine and her arousal is on fire. It’s setting mine ablaze and I need more. So much more.
I push her back as she complains. Ivy’s still trying to sit back up and I ask her to lie down again. She pouts and it’s adorable. It’s almost enough to make me want to teach her a lesson.
“Be a good girl and lie back, Ivy.”
“Why?” she asks, unsure.
I lean in and she quivers as I assert myself. “Because I told you to. I don’t like asking twice.”
She gasps and sucks air into her lungs, slowly lowering herself back. I slide back and quickly strip, watching as lust washes through her eyes and she stares at me in the way I’m staring at her. Her pupils dilate as she stares at my cock, biting her lip nervously.
I smirk, guessing she’s intimidated.
She ought to be. My dick’s not small and I’m not gentle.
“Open your legs for me, Ivy.”
They tense and she can’t do it. She needs to ease into this, and I kiss her chest, helping her relax as I play on her stomach. I’m growing impatient and I grab her leg, roughly yanking her knee up and parting her thighs.
Ivy lifts herself and watches as my head drops between her legs and she stares at me, utterly entranced. I brush the white lace thong aside and lick her clit and the girl shudders, making a noise I’ve never heard before. It’s a cry of excitement and surprise and sheer damn pleasure. It’s the sound someone makes when they’ve never experienced this before and it’s blown their fucking minds.
“Good girl,” I breathe against her clit. “Such a good girl for me.”
Ivy giggles and I hold her, licking and sucking as she settles and starts to let herself go. She tastes like heaven and I could eat her all fucking day and night. Her clit throbs when I roll it between my lips and her hips move hesitantly before she finally succumbs to the pleasure I’m giving her .
She’s earned it. She can have it. It’ll make everything else easier.
Ivy’s movements get wilder and her breathing becomes erratic. She’s getting close and my cock’s getting more excited. I need to be inside her and I’m going to explode if I don’t fuck her soon. Her cries turn frantic and her fingers dig into the chair and she’s pleading for release.
I drop my head and Ivy whines as I ignore her clit and my tongue starts lapping at her cunt. She’s dripping and the taste is addictive, and I want it all. She whines again and I flick my tongue inside her, deciding to teach her manners later. Ivy gasps and I pull back, teasing her.
She stills and I stare at the perfect pussy in front of me.
I freeze, determined to make sure I’m seeing what the fuck it is I think I’m seeing.
Fuck .
Ivy’s a virgin.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
I need to claim her, own her, fuck her until she knows she’s mine. Until her cunt knows it’s mine and I’ve marked it with my come.
I need to protect her and I never should have pushed this. Never should have stolen this choice from her.
I want her.
I need her.
And my mouth moves back to playing with her clit as I try to decide what the fuck to do. The need to fuck her is almost all-consuming and the closer she gets to orgasm, the more I need to feel her wrapped around me.
She moans and her legs tremble, and the perfect girl who wasn’t what I thought she was comes for me, screaming as I give her what I assume is her first orgasm from a man. I draw it out and she’s crying, shaking, and her pleasure carries her away, making my arousal even more uncontrollable.
Ivy collapses and she’s so perfect. So soft. So irresistible.
I lift my head and she smiles, delirious and lost in her climax. I crawl up her body and plant a gentle kiss on her lips, whispering she’s perfect over and over again.
My dick brushes against her and I hiss, unable to hold back any longer. I rock my weight back and kneel between her legs, running the head of my cock along her. She whines, still sensitive.
“Be a good girl for me.”
My voice is commanding and she stills, obeying me instantly.
I drag my cock around the entrance to her pussy, and her hips buck, lifting away. I press against her and she doesn’t move, staying absolutely still.
I want to be inside her.
I want to fuck her until she’s sore and consumed, and then I want to fuck her again and again and again. I want to fuck her hard enough that my dick’s sore because she’s felt it in the back of her goddamn throat—and it would be so easy. So simple. Fucking perfect, too.
I nudge forward and Ivy whimpers.
She’s so soft. So gentle.
So fucking innocent.
She stares at me with her big green eyes and pleads with me. I don’t know if she’s asking me to fuck her or asking me to stop. She isn’t telling me to stop. I wouldn’t even if she did.
Except, I’ve taken this choice from her.
She’s lost her will to my venom and my blood—and normally that wouldn’t bother me one fucking bit.
But this is Ivy. She’s my mate. She’s everything and I want her more than anything. Every instinct is screaming that I need to claim her before another does and my dick is about to explode.
And I can’t.
Not unless I’m certain she’s certain. I can’t steal this from her, not when I’ve stolen everything else. I won’t. I can’t. I fucking can’t, even though it’s going to fucking kill me not to fuck her.
I tip my head back and pull away.
She looks confused. Wounded. Distraught.
Fuck. She thinks I’m rejecting her. She doesn’t understand I’m protecting her. Protecting us. I’m choosing her and she can’t see it.
“You’re perfect, Ivy,” I tell her and tears flood her eyes. “So fucking perfect. Let’s take our time. Let’s make it special. I want that. For you.”
Ivy isn’t convinced. I smile and place featherlight kisses all over her body, whispering promises of devotion and assurances everything’s fine.
She relaxes a little and I pick her up, carrying her to bed. She slides under the covers and I wait to see what she wants. Ivy stays silent and does nothing, leaving me at a loss.
“Can I join you?”
“If you want to,” she mumbles, and my once-dead heart leaps with joy as I slide in next to her. “You’ll do what you want anyway,” she says, crushing the heart that’s only just reawakened.