31. Adrian
Soft, heavenly heat ensnared him. Consumed him. He’d perish in it, and that was the only death he wanted to live for.
Sometime during the night, his hand had crept under Ivory’s shirt, and the plush swell of her breast rested in his palm. His fingers stroked her nipple on their own accord, circling the small bud until it peaked and hardened. So responsive. He couldn’t wait to tease her to oblivion on Saturday. To finally let them have what they both wanted.
He curled closer, and his dick gave a pitiful throb as it nestled between the swell of her ass. Somehow, he’d gotten even harder than when they’d fallen asleep. But more impressive by far was having her here. In his bed. In his arms. It all felt too natural—familiar not to memory but to something far deeper.
Her shoulders rose and fell peacefully within his embrace, heat radiating off her skin and gathering in his chest before it spread out to every cell in his body. A feeling that made him want all the lazy nights and crazy nights and everything in between. For the rest of his life.
For the rest of forever, if she’d let him.
He guarded himself with a measured breath. She may be willing to invest her body and a section of her heart for now, but that didn’t mean long-term commitment. There was no guarantee she wouldn’t see reason and decide it was better to cut her losses.
Not slipping inside her last night had been the cruelest form of torture, but after everything that happened, he needed to know she accepted what would come with it. The things that came with knowing him as a friend as well as a Dominant, something he’d prevented with everyone else.
She’d have to face the same risks that went hand in hand with the life he’d been given. A loss of her innocence, not only in a sexual sense but the brutal truth of the crimes he’d witnessed…and those intended to commit himself.
He rolled over to glance at the clock— 6:00. No wonder he felt wide awake. He’d slept for more than eight hours. Already restless from the extra energy, he carefully slipped out of bed and pulled on a shirt, fixing the blankets before meandering into the living room so as not to wake his sleeping witch.
Through the windows, the sky was barely a shade above black, cloaked in the deep darkness of morning, but he could tell the snow had stopped. He switched on a lamp and went to his jacket hung by the door, pulling out his final cigarette. The one he still hadn’t justified lighting up.
Not that he hadn’t wanted to. Each time he tried, Ivory’s disappointed face would pop into his mind. Even as he craved the bitter taste and dependable wave of nicotine, he set it unlit between his lips. Walking to the porch out of habit, he cracked the door and let in a blast of freezing air to clear his mind.
Other than the alarming intensity of his attraction to Ivory, he had a lot to think about. The Yu family, for one, and in particular, making Jace’s life a living hell.
That nuisance had racked up enough reasons to take the blame for all of his family’s sins—Jace had become the perfect target to rid himself of the lust for revenge. Chances were he’d never get to prove who exactly set up Luke or who murdered his father, but he could rid the world of the one evil within his reach.
As he let the frost nip through his clothes, the bedroom door creaked, and his sweet, sleepy witch stumbled out. Wrapped in the blanket, hair a mess of purple strands, she shuffled over and shivered. “It’s cold.”
“Good morning,” he murmured as she laid her head on his chest. He turned his back to the porch door and smoothed her hair, tucking the blanket over her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s okay.” She tipped her face up to blink at him. Then frowned, brows furrowed. “Hey!” She reached out and snatched away the cigarette. “Didn’t I say no more of these?”
He grinned, for some reason pleased to be scolded by her, even when he knew he hadn’t done anything wrong. The way she pursed her lips was more than adorable and much better when she wasn’t a figment of his imagination. “I got to keep one, remember?”
“You haven’t used it yet?” She inspected the end of the cancer stick, holding it backward.
“Nope.”
“Well, you don’t get to keep it anymore,” she declared. “Time’s up.”
“You didn’t say anything about a time limit.” He reached over and closed the door, but when he looked down again, she had figured out which end went in her mouth and was testing the best placement for it.
He scowled and snatched it from her, crushing the paper. “Don’t do that.”
She pouted. “It was in your mouth.”
“It was.” He tipped up her chin with rough fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze. “But I have much better things to put in yours.”
Her eyes widened as she bit down on her bottom lip, smiling in that innocent way of hers. Which really wasn’t innocent at all. Damn, she could already shackle him with one look. He dropped the cigarette and crushed his mouth to hers, kissing every inch of it, savoring her sweetness and how pliable she became at his slightest touch, only able to stop when they were both short of breath.
“So that’s better than a smoke?” she whispered.
“A million times better.”
She laughed and set her head on his shoulder. “You should’ve done that from the beginning.”
“Mhm.” He wrapped her in his arms. “If I recall, you said you weren’t looking for a relationship the first time we met.”
“That’s only because I knew you’d say no.” She paused, then added with a thoughtful sigh, “I could tell you kept everyone at an arm’s distance, but I wanted to help despite that. I didn’t want you to push me away because of my feelings.”
Yet she called him the honorable one. “What about now?” he asked dryly. “Do you still worry about catching feelings?”
“I think it’s a little too late for me,” she whispered, smiling into his neck.
“Me too.”
Her smile widened.
He rested his chin on her head, wishing the world would stop spinning if he held her close enough. That she could rewrite his life the same way she’d restructured his heart. They stood in silence for a while, speaking without words or movement. A certain stillness enveloped the air—a predestined bond, if such a thing existed.
Ivory stirred in his arms. “I think you should know about what happened with Jace.” Her voice waived, and he tensed, already half convinced to throw out his plans for the day and give Jace what had been coming for a long time. One word from her was all it would take.
“Did he do something else yesterday?”
She shook her head. “No, I mean, you should know why he acts this way around me in the first place. You’ve been so open about your past. It’s about time I faced mine, too.”
“Okay.” He rubbed her through the blanket, proud of her being brave enough to face this. He had no right to know, let alone ask, but he'd do anything in his power to help her heal if she offered the chance. “If you want to share, I’ll listen.”
She swallowed as if the words didn’t want to leave her throat. “Last semester, Serena, Avril, and I met Jewelle outside the club. She gave us a ride back to Beta Rho, and that following week, we were over there almost every day.” She let out a hollow scoff. “College was still so new to me. The parties. Greek life. The freedom to socialize with people from so many different places.”
“One day, we were playing a round of truth or dare—nothing scandalous. Stupid things like ‘ Who was your childhood crush? ’ and ‘ Have you ever cheated on a test? ’ The dares were mostly to drink shots. By the time we got too drunk to play, everyone just…disappeared.”
Her fingers curled into his shirt. “I remember Jace offering to give me a tour of the house, so he took me to his room. It felt dangerous, sinister in a wrong way. I was naive to fall for it, but I was also heartbroken from my ex breaking up with me over Harvard —imagine that, being dumped for an ancient brick institution.” She stopped to breathe, and he massaged the base of her neck.
“Jace said he knew deep down I wasn’t an innocent good girl; I said he was right. Then he shoved me to my knees, and I didn’t even put up a fight. I told myself I wanted it rough. I wanted it to be abrasive. Ugly and demeaning. But when he forced himself past my lips, I started to cry.” She shuddered, turning to hide under the blanket. “The alcohol made my head swim, and my gag reflex kicked in, but he wouldn’t stop until he finished, and then I ran away. I’ve hated him ever since, although… I think I hate myself more for letting it happen.”
Fuck. The edges of his vision bled red with fury, but all that mattered right now was Ivory. Making sure this didn’t drag her down. “Sweetheart, you were drunk. Even if you remember saying yes, you couldn’t have consented. I should cut his dick off and shove it down his own throat.”
“You should,” she said bitterly, then looked up. “I mean—no, don’t actually do that.” Some of the fear fell from her eyes as she saw his expression. Nothing felt better than the pride of having his girl know he’d go to any length to protect her.
“I won’t do anything without your permission,” he promised, rubbing her back. “But if you change your mind, let me know.”
“Okay, sure, Mr. Anti-hero,” she said with a roll of her eyes that only she could get away with, and more importantly, a small smile back on her face.
He peeled away the blanket enough to tuck her against him. “Thank you for telling me, and I don’t mind avoiding any activities that make you uncomfortable. It’s not a problem at all.”
She sighed into his touch. “Don’t worry, I’ve never felt that way with you.” Her thumbs sought out his waistband, hooking over the elastic. He knew her touch wasn’t meant to seduce, even though the mere feel of her skin on his did the trick. It was for her to know she had the power to be there. To touch him and not fear how he’d respond. “I don’t think it’ll be a problem, but…”
“But?”
“I need to rewrite that experience. I don’t want what happened to define me. I still want to enjoy this part of sex; I want to submit.” She lifted her head and flicked her eyes to his lips before kissing him lightly. “Only to you.”
He kissed her back the same way he always did, easing her mouth open and taking control. She wasn’t weak or broken, and he’d show her just how good her desires could be when handled by the right man. “I’ll take care of you, Iv.”
She blushed. “Thank you.” Visibly more at ease, she pulled his arms around her waist and leaned back. “Do you have work today?”
“I have the week off,” he replied. “What about you? When’s your first class?”
“Nine. I’ll have to ask Nia if—” She cut herself off. “Unless you could give me a ride?”
He smiled. “Of course I can.”
“I should make breakfast first,” she said through a yawn. “Do pancakes sound good? And no arguing today. I want to do it.”
“Pancakes sound great.”