Page 44 of Burning Ivy (The KORT)

I wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on her head. Indecisive. This isn’t the clearheaded honeymoon night I wanted for either of us. But,Christ, she smells divine.

Sweeping her hair to drape over one shoulder, I unzip her wedding dress, catching a glimpse of white lace lingerie as a quiet whimper escapes her.

My sentiments exactly, Little Storm.

I press my lips against her neck with gentle kisses and nips. “What was that sexy little whimper for?”

She tilts her neck in a subtle invitation for more. “Been waiting for my wedding night.” The words are clumsy, surely heading toward an unintelligible slur as the alcohol sets in, but her reaching behind herself to graze my cock is an abundantly clear message.

I move her hand, unfastening the buttons—a painstakingly slow process—and ruck the dress down her small form, revealing shimmery peaches-and-cream skin, perky tits spilling out of her strapless bra, and a round, plump ass on display beyond her bridal thong.

A fucking goddess before me.

Snaking my arm around her bare waist, I remove my tie and push to see how far she’s willing to take this. “Is that right? What exactly did you have in mind forourwedding night?”

“Hoping to … come,” she whispers, which garners a chuckle from me. Bold little thing. Drunk but bold nonetheless.

Scooping her up, I throw her onto the bed. She squeals in surprise, and before she can catch her breath, I climb in after her, pull her panties to the side, and glide my fingers down her sweet, freshly shaven cunt while I hover over her. “So wet for me, Little Storm.”

“Mmhmm. For you,” she purrs, and something feral inside me kicks in. Something I need to tamp down.For now.

My fingers circle over her clit as she arches and writhes, moaning as she grows closer to climax. So quick. I smack her wet pussy, and she lets out a yelp.

“Wells,” she groans.

“You disobeyed me, Ivanna. Did you really think I’d carry you back here and make you come?”

“Shouldn’t have expected anything from you. None of this is how it was supposed to be.” She’s trying to be indignant, but there’s a sadness threading those words that chokes me.

I crawl toward the headboard and prop myself against it, sliding her up between my legs, her back to my chest. “What isn’t?”

“This.” She flaps her hand between us. “You. Me. I was gonna be in love. Gonna make my mom and dad proud. He’d give me away. She’d cry. I’d finally lose my virginity to a man who couldn’t bear to live or breathe without me. Magical. You won’t even keep touching me.”

My chest tightens. “You keep talking, and I’ll keep touching.”

“ ’Kay,” she hums as I start stroking and dip one finger inside her. The smell of her arousal, mixing with her delicious vanilla-raspberry fragrance, has my cock jerking against her lower back. She croons a sultry little whine, so I check her eyes and find them slowly losing focus.

“Stay with me, Ivy. Have you ever been touched? Has someone finger-fucked you?”

She’s so innocent. Mine to find. Mine to protect.

Mine to shatter.

Mine.

“Yes … no.”

I smack her pussy once more, causing her to cry out. “Let’s try that again. Which is it?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

My molars grind at the thought, rage filling me again. “Names? I’m going to need the name of anyone who’s touched you.”

“Don’t wanna talk about him when your fingers are inside me.”

So, just one. One too many, but manageable. It’s not the guy she bit. He never got that far and didn’t live to touch anyone else. Fucking rapist. My feisty girl was a force he hadn’t been prepared to go up against.

“Fair enough. We’ll come back to that later.” I plunge my finger inside her, adding a second and drawing out the most erotic gasp from her. She’s so goddamn tight, but I focus on talking. “Why did you wait for your wedding night, Ives?”

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