Page 66 of Ivory's Ruin Romance

“For that, I do insist we wait,” Adrian chuckled, tucking himself away so she couldn’t keep teasing. “Don’t worry. As long as I can feel your heart beating next to mine, I’ll feel good.”

There were no words she could utter in response save a contented sigh and all the adoration in the world.

THIRTY-ONE

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.”

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