Page 15 of Ivory Crown

As we stood waiting, I caught sight of our reflection in the polished steel doors—her petite frame tucked next to my broad shoulders, her dark hair cascading down in curls, her soft curves accentuated by the shirt she wore. She was beautiful, breathtakingly so—a fact that had never escaped me.

The doors slid open, and we stepped inside. The ride down was quiet, save for the hum of the elevator descending floors and the occasional growl of thunder outside. Before the elevator dinged, I grabbed her hand.

“Okay,” I said, smiling at her. “Let’s go for that walk.”

She hesitated for a second. Then she smiled back.

Chapter Seven: Dante

Iled Jade through the park, the city lights a distant hum against the early night. Autumn had stripped the trees bare, and their branches clawed at the sky like desperate fingers. The air was crisp, carrying with it a promise of winter’s bite.

“Nice evening for a walk,” I remarked casually, though my mind churned with the complexities of our situation. It wasn’t lost on me that every step we took was shadowed by the weight of my family’s legacy.

“Beautiful,” she agreed, her voice steady despite the chill. She looked up at the skeletal trees and then to the stars peeking through. The park was dark enough to offer a semblance of solitude, far from the prying eyes of my world.

We found an empty bench, secluded and coated in the day’s last warmth. I sat first, patting the spot next to me. When Jade settled beside me, her dark hair catching what little light filtered through the leaves, I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into me, her head finding its place against my shoulder in a comfortable gesture that sent a ripple of something tender through my chest.

“Jade,” I began, turning to look down at her, “how are you holding up?” The words felt inadequate for what I wanted to convey. I knew the chaos that had become her life, all because of me—because of us.

She sighed, a small sound that spoke of weariness and contemplation. “It’s not easy, Dante. I feel...out of my depth.” Her confession was like a punch to the gut, reminding me of the innocence I’d ensnared in my world’s thorns.

“Look, I know this isn’t ideal,” I admitted, tightening my grip slightly as if I could shield her from the truth of my existence. “But I’m here for you, Jade. Whatever you need.”

“Even a way out?” There was a flicker of hope in her question, but also resignation.

“Even that,” I lied smoothly, knowing full well that I was definitely not going to give her a way out. Not until I knew she was safe. Tonight, under the cloak of the night and the quiet of the park, I let that lie stand as a beacon of false promise between us.

I moved my body so it was close to hers. “Now,” I said, my finger trailing down her chest. “How can I make you forget?”

Jade’s eyes held a spark of surprise, but quickly softened as she made no move to pull away. Instead, she seemed to relax into me, her body language mirroring the familiar intimacy we’d grown accustomed to over time.

“Dante...” The way she said my name was always laced with a hint of uncertainty, and I couldn’t help the regret that filled me every time. But tonight, there was also something different in her tone—a certain curiosity, perhaps?

I undid the buttons of her coat. We were in the dark, so I didn’t feel bad about moving my hand down her chest, down her stomach, toward her leggings.

“Do you want me to stop?” I asked.

“It depends. What are you planning to do?” she asked.

“I’m planning to make you come. Right here and now.”

Her eyes widened, and her breath hitched. She glanced around the park, but it was deserted. I could see the wheels turning in her head, contemplating her options. But I already knew what she wanted.

“Dante,” she whispered. Her fingers gripped my arm, a silent plea that only added fuel to my already raging desire.

“Trust me,” I whispered against her ear before kissing her neck. Letting my hand slide further down, I pushed past the fabric of her leggings, meeting the heat of her core. Her gasp echoed through the quiet park, a renegade sound swallowed by the night.

“Relax,” I murmured close to her ear, positioning her so that we were hidden from any onlookers. I pushed my fingers into her, and she exhaled sharply, her grip on my arm tightening. My touch was slow and measured, a counterpoint to the inferno that raged within me. Patient. Methodical. I knew what she needed.

“Dante,” she gasped again, her voice shaking as she buried her head in my shoulder, biting down to smother her sounds.

I whispered words of encouragement into her ear, watching the moonlight play on the lines of tension in her face. I could feel her moving against my hand, her breaths coming in ragged pants. Her eyes fluttered shut and I could see the pleasure etching itself across her beautiful face.

I traced my thumb over clit as she jerked against me. A low moan escaped her lips, muffled by my suit jacket. I plunged my fingers deeper. A soft whimper escaped her. I continued to work her, my touch becoming more insistent as I felt her body start to tremble against me.

“Look at me,” I murmured, wanting to see those brilliant eyes of hers clouded with pleasure. She obeyed, her gaze meeting mine, raw and unfiltered.

My fingers began their dance, stroking and teasing with an expertise that had her gasping silently. “Let go.”

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