Page 81 of Ivory's Ruin Romance

She gasped as her clit pulsed, and the point of the knife sliced into her flesh.

THIRTY-NINE

“Ouch,” she whispered, unable to look at Adrian as blood welled over her fingerprint.

“Are you okay?” He took her hand to inspect it.

“Yes. I’m sorry, sir.” Her skin burned more out of shame than pain. Even while half-naked and bent over a desk, she’d managed to mess up.

He sighed. Picking up the knife, he put it back in her palm and closed both their hands around the handle. She lifted her gaze to his, relieved not to find anger or disappointment, although his expression remained firm and commanding.

“I use my fists as a warning,” he said. “And I’ll use them as much and as often as I need to. But when I use a weapon, I do it once—to solve the problem permanently.”

She nodded. This wasn’t a toy.

He brought his other hand in front of the blade. “I have no problem with you picking up the knife, but when you hold a weapon, you do so with the intent to use it.”

Moving the knife in her hand along with his, he pressed the tip into his finger and made a mirror of her wound. He didn’t flinch, watching her face instead as blood pooled in the shallow cut.

She winced for him. It was all fun and games until real harm came into play.

Even when he toyed with things like pain and punishment, there were real consequences that he had to hold himself accountable for, and she ought to do the same. Tentatively, she raised her finger to his and pressed them together.

He closed his thumb over their fingers and pinched them in place. “Your blood is as good as mine, Iv,” he whispered. “If you hurt, I hurt.”

“I know.” Her weakness had become his. If she wasn’t more cautious, she could get them both in trouble. Not just with their games either, but in a world where innocent kids got shot in a park and entitled frat boys took advantage of whoever they wanted.

He released their fingers and wiped them off with the inside of his shirt. “I will do everything to protect both of us, but try to keep yourself safe.” She nodded and offered a small smile as he folded the knife and slipped it back into his boot. The sober expression on his face softened. “I’ll clean the cut for you when we get back.”

Something flickered in his eyes as he pressed her finger to his lips, making the gold flecks more distinct and the emotion clearer. Here she was, supposed to be turned on by presenting herself, by waiting to please him, but instead, it was his concern that flooded her sex all over again.

He let go and walked behind the desk, cutting himself off from her line of sight. Goosebumps rose over her skin, and static danced in the air, separating and connecting them with an almost tangible energy.

“Do you remember your safe word?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Say it for me.”

“Violet.”

He hummed in approval. A tug came at her ankle and brought her foot against the leg of the desk. It forced her stance to widen as the smooth leather of the belt locked her in place. “No matter what, you’ll use it if you feel the need?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He straightened and gathered her hair, placing it over to one side. His lips ghosted across her shoulder, and then his teeth pulled at the ribbon around her neck. It unraveled, her pulse pounding in its absence.

“I’ve never done this before,” she blurted, breaths quickening. Even if she used the safe word, she’d be stuck. Tied to a desk in the middle of a warehouse owned by criminals.

A reassuring hand smoothed up the back of her thigh and spread her legs further apart. Her knees bent from the strain of the position, back arching to push out her hips. Her forehead dropped down to the desk.

“You please me very much, Iv,” Adrian murmured, crouching down. “That’s all you need to remember.” He secured her other foot, though it wasn’t as tight as the first, and stood. “One ankle is tied with the belt, the other with your hair ribbon. If the ribbon breaks or gets untied, you’ll get double the number of spankings we left off at, understood?”

Double…that meant if he only planned to spank her ten times, and she broke on the tenth, he’d give her twenty more. She couldn’t move as is, but if she tried, it would only make things worse.

“Yes, sir.” Her voice wavered, hands gripping the edge of the desk.

“I’ve always had a certain requirement,” Adrian began to muse, but she could hardly focus as she braced herself, watching the toe of his boots disappear and reappear in her line of sight. “When I started with my arrangements, I decided everything would be earned—rewards, punishments, even the chance to be fucked.”

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