61. Ivory
“Just one mor—” A yawn took over her last syllable, muffled by the pillow on Adrian’s lap. Credits and character drawings played over the screen as the ending song filled the living room.
Adrian tucked the blanket around her shoulders. “You’d have to keep your eyes open for that.”
His body heat radiated through their clothes, and she snuggled further into his embrace. “I can tell what’s happening by the sound effects. You just have to tell me who’s winning the fight.”
“Or, we continue tomorrow.” He hooked an arm under her knees and lifted her off the couch before she could protest.
After watching a few episodes on their first night, the rest of spring break turned into an anime marathon. Brey joined them every now and then, and between making baked goods and replenishing their supplies of popcorn and pizza, they’d camped out in the living room almost all day and night. Her mom hadn’t voiced any further disapproval, but her interactions were lukewarm at best.
They needed to have a more in-depth conversation at some point, but for now, Ivory didn’t mind giving the issue space as her dad suggested. For the first time, she felt confident in where she stood, even if it meant going against the grain.
Not once had Adrian put her down or made her feel less than good enough, and she’d started to believe in herself the same way. Her well-being came before living up to anyone else’s expectations and staying true to what she wanted filled a hole she didn’t know she had.
“All right,” she relented, leaning into Adrian as he climbed the stairs. “I guess we have one more day to finish the season.” His hard chest felt more comfortable than the softest pillow, and cradled in his arms like a princess, she couldn’t help but feel like a little girl again.
They had one more day before her black knight was called to duty—before the fight with Jace and Jun—and right now, she could almost pretend their domestic hiatus would last forever. Every minute of it had to be cherished.
Adrian reached her room and gingerly dumped her on the bed, then locked the door and closed the curtains. The plastic stars she’d stuck on the ceiling lit up with a faint glow, and the darkness in the room receded under streaks of pale moonlight seeping through the edge of the windows. It looked like a magic fantasy world and reminded her of something she’d been meaning to bring up when they were alone.
She blinked over at him, no longer as tired without his body next to hers. When he returned to her side, she caught his hand and wove their fingers together, the smooth metal of his rings pressing into her skin. “Were you serious about what you said?” she whispered. “About what you told my dad the other night?”
He sat next to her, a silhouette of shadow and glittering gold eyes. Bringing her hand to his lips, he held it there and watched her quietly, then left a lingering kiss on her ring finger. “I’m more serious than I’ve ever been. I’ll do whatever it takes to pledge my devotion to you. Even if it means giving up everything I have, I'd do it in a heartbeat to take your hand in marriage. To make you my wife.”
Time slowed to a standstill. She stared at their entwined fingers, unable to form a coherent sentence. Could this be her reality? Could he be her reality—for the rest of her life?
“Have I ever told you what my rings mean?” he asked.
She shook her head.
Extending both hands, he curled down each finger with a ring as he spoke, three on his right and one on his left. “Mum, Dad, Riri, and me.” His left thumb rubbed over the empty space on his left ring finger. “I’ve wanted to get one for you for a while now, but when I thought about it, there’s only one kind of ring I’d want from you.” His eyes lifted to hers. “And that’s a wedding ring.”
Her breath caught, chest threatening to burst. Such a permanent thing seemed impossible when they didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. But her heart knew what it wanted the moment he said it.
“I’d want that, too.” She looked up from his hands, mesmerized with every contour of his face, with the sweep of hair that had fallen out of its bun and the strong column of his neck. With his firm jaw and soft inviting lips, a mixture of benevolence and fortitude that personified the man she’d swear her soul to over and over again. “I want to marry you more than anything.”
A dream-like smile broke out on her face because this had to be a dream. It was too good not to be.
She turned to stare up at the ceiling, breathless for no other reason than pure elation. “I can’t count how many nights I laid here wishing for the same thing. Wishing for you. For a man who would hold my hand and teach me new things, who would be there to support me when I stumbled and wipe away my tears when I cried. A man who would be my best friend and my family and—”
She cut herself off as heat flared in her cheeks.
Adrian leaned over, becoming a part of her handcrafted night sky. “A man who would be what?”
“That part’s embarrassing.” She hid her face, forgetting that it was too dark to see her blush.
A noise left the back of his throat, and he pulled her hands to the side of her head, pinning her wrists with a gentle caress over her veins. “If I get to be your husband… ” He paused at that word, emphasizing it almost like a threat. Or a promise. “I want to be everything you need. I want to know all of you, especially the parts no one else gets to see. So tell me, sweetheart, what kind of man did you wish for?”
His lips ghosted over her temple, and she sighed. She couldn’t actually admit to this. Wanting it now was different from wanting it back then. Those thoughts had been locked away for good reason. Reserved for the one who, she’d hoped, would fulfill them.
“I wanted a man who would teach me about sex,” she whispered, every inch of her body aflame with desire. With the obscenities her younger self had dared to conjure in false innocence. “Someone who would show me what making love felt like, but who would also show me what it felt like to be used. To be kissed and to be bitten. To be adored, and at the same time, to be nothing more than an object for their gratification. Someone older and bigger and stronger who would use those things to toy with me. I wanted to be their fantasy as much as they were mine.”
Her hands clutched the blanket until her knuckles hurt, holding it to her chest as if it would be a sufficient barrier. But there were no barriers between her and Adrian, exactly as she’d always wanted. He knew all too well how wet she’d gotten under her pajamas, and he’d used it to his advantage. Just like she wanted him to.
An intrigued rumble emanated from his chest as he settled down beside her. The stretch of his body against hers felt larger than usual, with her thoughts stripped naked and her heart left to race in frenzied anticipation.
“I fantasized, too,” he murmured, teeth nipping at her ear. “About having a wife like you. Having a woman of my own to fuck any way I pleased.” His hand crept under the waistband of her pants. “To teach her about my body and about hers, which would also be mine.”
She shivered as his fingers found her wet center. “What would you teach her?”
He spread her open, finger grazing over her clit. “Whatever she wanted to know.”
Instead of giving it the steady pressure that would tip her over the edge, he traced around her folds as if he’d memorized each one. Her hips lifted to meet his hand, legs spreading as he explored deeper. “I want to know you,” she whispered. “Tell me about your fantasies.”
His other hand brushed through her hair, and she turned into waiting lips. He captured her in a kiss that pulled taut every invisible string inside her, loosening her muscles until she became a boneless pile of want.
“I don’t need fantasies anymore,” he mumbled against her mouth. “I have you, and you are all of them.”
He pulled on the waistline of her pants, and after sliding them off, she sat up on her elbows so he could lift off her shirt. His hand unhooked her bra with ease, tossing it aside. She watched him watching her, dropping his gaze as her underwear came off next. He squeezed the plump of her thighs and then traced back up to pinch her butt, holding her still as she squirmed.
“My sweet Ivory. My future wife . ”
Sitting back on his knees, he observed her from the shadows. One hand pressed down her stomach while the other worked off his sweatpants. “For every night until I get to say my vows in public, I will brand them onto your skin in private. I’ll punish you for every second you consume my thoughts and praise you for every moment you’re in my arms until that’s the only thing I know how to do.”
She bit her lip to keep from moaning. Everyone else was asleep, but she couldn’t guarantee she’d be able to control her sound. Her nipples pulled into taut points, legs bent at the knees and spread so Adrian could use her any way he wanted.
Unable to not touch him, she reached for his shirt, and then that, too, landed across the room. Her hands slid down his sides as his arms caged her in.
“I’m going to fill you with my poison,” he murmured as he brought his lips back to hers. “Show you things only a man like me can make you feel.” He dropped his pants to the mattress and kicked them off the bed, flicking his eyes to hers. “A man who belongs only to you.”
Her heart thudded in its cage. His touch was a balm, his words an incantation.
She laid back as he arranged her underneath him. Feet hooked over his shoulders, he eased into her with a hiss. “Damn, you have such a tight pussy, with those pretty little lips that were made to swallow me over and over again. Made to please me for the rest of my life.”
“Forever,” she breathed. “I want to be yours forever.”
He bit into her neck and pressed their hips together, flush until she could feel him at the base of her spine. “There is no till death do us part, sweetheart,” he rasped. “You’ll always be mine.”
His hips pumped in and out, slow and hard enough to feel every ridge, every place where his body echoed his words. “One day, I’m going to put a baby in your belly. I’ll breed you every night until you grow nice and full and round for me. We’ll have our home and our family and our whole future. Just for us.”
She arched her back as her mouth hung open in a silent moan. He grabbed her hips and pulled her against him, lifting and impaling her cunt with sharp thrusts. She burst beneath him, undulating in wave after wave of rapture, visions of their life flashing through her mind.
He came with a growl, emptying himself and marking her as completely as a man was meant to mark his woman.
“Ours,” she whispered, fingers trembling as she brushed hair from his face and pulled him down beside her.
“Ours,” he echoed.