Page 124 of Ivory's Ruin Romance

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.

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