Page 79 of Ivory's Ruin Romance

Twisting his fingers, he pushed them in further until she cried out, then held them there, mirroring the movements he made on her clit. Her tits tightened, straining against the wet fabric—as if there wasn’t a single part of her that didn’t want his touch as much as he wanted to give it.

She turned her face into his neck, closing her eyes and shaking like a leaf.

“Open your eyes.”

She did, and when jade met gold, he pinched her clit. Her pupils dilated, jaw falling unhinged as instinct took over, and her body blushed all over, overcome by pleasure and completeness and every sensation that meant she belonged to him.

He didn’t stop until she stopped squirming and shuddered with a final release, the flutter and clutch of her pussy melting away. She breathed out a satiated sigh as he uncovered her lips.

“What a very naughty girl.” He pulled out his fingers, coated with her nectar to the point that it left a string of evidence between them and fell onto the bike in a shimmering streak. “Leaving a filthy wet mark on my leather seat.”

She peered up, a flush in her cheeks and that spark of awakened lust in her eyes. It glowed all the brighter as she registered his words, then saw the gleam that must have shown in his own eyes and the crooked slant of his lips.

“I didn’t mean to.” She bit her lip, playing along with mock guilt.

No part of her looked guilty or ashamed of what just happened, and a surge of pride threatened to make him ruin the game and kiss her until they both fell off the bike, then pin her to the ground and make her come until they both passed out. But no, as fun as that would be, what he had in mind was much more tempting.

He raised his hand in front of their faces as if to show off the proof of their sin. The rain misted through a ray of sun in the ever-fickle clouds, and sparkles of moisture glistened along his knuckles, coating his rings like lacquer.

“Taste,” he said, offering his incriminating fingers.

She sucked his finger clean, swirling her sweet tongue around him like he’d offered her a piece of candy. He didn’t know what turned him on more, the fact that she could enjoy her own pleasure or how she wrapped her lips around him and took him in further.

He groaned. “I believe it’s time for your punishment.”

She hummed, her teeth scraping his knuckles. How he was starting to love playing games with this woman. The kind that only made her want to play more, to crawl into the dark corners of their hearts and lock out the rest of the world.

“See that smaller shed to the right?” He pointed, and her gaze followed his arm. “It’s miscellaneous storage. Old documents and stuff no one looks at anymore.”

She gave him a curious glance, so he answered her unspoken inquiry. “Raptor and I used to sneak in when we were younger, looking for things we shouldn’t. Never really found anything interesting except for a few old vests with bullet holes.”

The other sheds had more interesting contents, but those weren’t things he wanted Ivory to know about. Things that once she saw, she’d be held accountable for.

He dropped his voice to the low tone to which she responded so well. “Go inside. You’ll find a desk in the center. I want you bent over with your ass ready for me by the time I get back from locking the gate. Wouldn’t want anyone interrupting to find out how wet you get from being spanked, now would we?”

THIRTY-EIGHT

The hinges on the shed door creaked as she pulled it open and peeked inside. The scent of damp earth hung in the air from the rain, but the cement floor was bone-dry. A shiver ran down her spine. What if she stumbled into something she shouldn’t? This place did belong to a gang of outlaws…

Adrenaline spiked her pulse as she peered further into the small room. A shaft of light from the open doorway illuminated dusty file boxes, various tools, and supplies scattered across industrial metal shelves. As Adrian said, a small desk was positioned in the center of the room. Nothing too inconspicuous. But she wasn’t about to go snooping around.

The desk looked old but in good condition—the kind with a cubby under the main surface and a wooden chair welded on. Unlike the rest of the miscellaneous junk, the desk was dust-free, and the floor had been cleared and swept. As if Adrian set it up before they even arrived.

The thought made heat rise to her already flushed cheeks. Between her legs, her pussy blushed in awe, wet and hot under her unbuttoned jeans. He’d planned everything out down to the last detail. Usually, she planned for others, the one who made special treats for birthdays and carried extra supplies in case of emergencies. Today wasn’t a holiday, yet Adrian had done so much to let her know she was important.

She traced her fingers over the smooth wood, remembering the first time he bent her over his kitchen counter. The first time he told her to appreciate herself—that he valued not just her but her submission. The first time he brought up punishments and rules. True, she shied away from the thought then, but it hadn’t scared her.

He’d made it clear this was her choice. Her power, and if she offered that to him, he wouldn’t let it go to waste.

Even now, she had the chance to walk back outside. He’d always given her the option to step away, to decide if she really wanted this with him. The answer had already been written in her heart and mind, but this chance to choose him, to choose submission, made it all the more gratifying.

Her heart raced at the opportunity to please him, to bow and relinquish herself to her black knight. To let him hurt her. Punish her. Humiliate her.

He owned her, and in return, she could own him with a single word. Nothing she gave would go unnoticed or unrewarded. He treated her willingness to suffer for his sake as an honor, and he deserved no less.

The front gate squeaked and sliced through her thoughts. She jumped, fumbling to push her jeans and panties down to her thighs. It wouldn’t take him long to walk in, and when he did, she wanted to earn his praise.

She spread her legs as much as her pants would allow, then leaned forward and folded her arms over the desk. From this position, everything would be clear as day when he walked in. The swollen, pink cleft between her legs. The rosebud his finger had breached earlier. The dimples around her ass and the plush of her thighs pushed up from the tightness of her jeans.

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