Page 85 of Ivory's Ruin Romance

She smiled, and he all but growled.

After taking another deep breath, he slid in deeper, but not yet at the back of her throat. This was something he needed her to want to do again—fuck, he’d die if she didn’t—so he had to check in every step of the way.

He fisted her hair, and she relaxed her jaw, inhaling through her nose. Good. Pulling out, he paused before thrusting in deeper, relishing the scrape of her teeth and the tightness of her tongue. He held himself there while her throat worked to adjust. Tears sprang to her eyes, and he tightened his fist. She forced in a breath through her nose and then relaxed.

One more—he could only give her one more before it would take a literal miracle for him to hold back.

He gave her as much of a smile as he could muster in this state, pulled out slowly, then impaled her again. This time, he had to force his way in, blocking out her source of air and still pushing in farther, nestling her nose into the dark hair at his base.

Panic flashed in her eyes as her body reflexively fought the intrusion, but her hands stayed fixed behind her back. Even as a tear streamed down her cheek, she relaxed her tongue around the underside of his shaft.

“Sweetheart,” he croaked but didn’t get to finish the sentence as his dick gave one last, profound throb, and he spilled onto her tongue in thick, heavy spurts. She kept her mouth open as he painted those pink strawberry lips and fluttering tongue with his seed.

As he finished, she swallowed, licking her lips and gazing up at him with a satiated expression. And helplessly, he fell apart in her eyes.

“Fuck,” he cursed.

She was too good to be true, but if this was a dream, he prayed he’d never wake up.

FORTY-ONE

By the time they pulled up to the dorms, the afternoon had grown colder, and clouds billowed dark and shadowy across the sky. Ivory sighed and leaned into him, her arms wrapped snug around his waist. She was still all soft and cuddly, and he wanted nothing more than to keep his sweet witch all to himself for as long as he could.

He’d offered to take her out for lunch, but she said she’d rather stay in, and he had no protests. Once she picked up a change of clothes and her schoolwork, they would head back to his apartment, where he could look after her for the rest of the night.

They rolled to a stop by the back entrance and he shifted gears, placing his foot on the curb.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to let me do my homework tomorrow?” she asked, taking off her helmet and nuzzling the nape of his neck.

He clicked his tongue and removed his helmet, too, allowing her more room to try and convince him. Even though it wouldn’t work. “What kind of chivalrous knight would I be if I enabled you to procrastinate?”

He turned to tuck his finger under her chin and looked her in the eyes. Dark brown eyelashes swept over her cheekbones, makeup gone, and nothing left but natural beauty to take his breath away. “Plus, I want you all to myself tomorrow,” he added. “If you’re good and finish your work early, then maybe we can play more later.”

She bit her lip and pouted.

“Don’t make me punish you again.”

“All right, fine.” She held back an eye roll just in time and, much to his chagrin, winced as she slid off the bike. “I’ll go grab my bag—textbooks included. Be out in five.” Her attention flicked down to the seat, and her face paled. “Also, I’m sorry about…you know…” She motioned to the leather. “I’ll clean your bike later.”

It took him a moment to register what she meant—the mess she’d made at the warehouse. Or, more accurately, the mess his fingers had coaxed out of her.

He grinned and hooked his hand in her jeans to pull her close. “Sweetheart, don’t apologize. This seat is never going to get washed again.”

Her jaw dropped, and she stumbled over her words. “I’m sure that’s not necessary.” Darting her gaze away, she blushed. “But if you’d like, we can always…do it again after it's washed.”

He laughed. What a dirty girl. Fuck, he loved her for it.

“I’ll take you up on that.” Leaning over, he whispered in her ear, “Next time, I’ll have you come on my boot and make you clean it off with your tongue.”

Face scarlet red and eyes wide, her expression was all he needed to verify it turned her on more than she’d admit. He let her go, and she dashed into the dorms.

As he watched her disappear, a nearly forgotten ache panged in his chest. Not so many months ago, he’d watched the same scene but assumed he’d never see her again. That Halloween had been fittingly dark, chilled with winter on its wings and a curse drifting in the air. So much had changed for him since then.

Even though the warmth of summer lingered, new growth budded all around, and a seedling of hope had been planted in his heart, not all their problems were solved. He’d sworn not to act on it, but he still wanted to dig into the circumstances behind his father’s murder. He wanted to know who that ring belonged to five years ago and who pulled the trigger. If he couldn’t find a way to bring down justice himself, then he wanted that man behind bars.

Just as his hand reached for a pack of cigarettes that wasn’t there, the building’s door swung open, and Ivory bounded out, practically skipping down the sidewalk with a purple backpack strapped on her shoulders.

“All set,” she declared, settling back on the bike and taking her helmet.

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