Page 38 of Candy Cane Chains

"Excuse me." I brush my lips against Ivy's ear. "Business to attend to."

I cross the marble floor in measured steps, coming up behind Thompson. My hand clamps onto his shoulder, fingers digging into pressure points.

"Enjoying the view?" I keep my voice low, meant for him alone. "Look at her again and I'll have your eyes carved out with that mother of pearl spoon she selected."

He jerks, champagne sloshing. "Mr. Kane, I didn't-"

"Three seconds. Look anywhere else." The pressure increases. "One."

Thompson's head snaps toward the window. Sweat beads on his temple.

I pat him on the side of the face. Hard. Pink blooms on his cheek, and I step closer, my body pulsing with anger. "Don't let me catch you looking again."

I return to Ivy, who's watching the exchange with those clever amber eyes. She fits herself against my side, her warmth seeping through the Italian wool.

"Everything okay?" Her fingers curl into my jacket.

"Perfect." I scan the room, marking who's watching. Rodriguez averts his gaze. Chen suddenly finds his cufflinks fascinating. "Just reminding everyone of proper etiquette."

She presses closer as we pass the string quartet, the diamonds at her throat catching fire under the chandeliers. The room ripples with tension - these men who fancy themselves powerful, brought low by a single look. Their fear feeds something primal in my chest.

"They're terrified of you." Ivy's whisper carries a note of awe.

"Good." I know they are. They all know that with one word, I could kill them. Or perhaps I'd do it just because I felt like it. "Fear keeps order. Keeps you safe."

Her hand tightens on my arm as Harrison's son starts to turn our way, then thinks better of it. Smart boy. He's seen what happens to those who don't learn quickly enough.

Wanting her to myself, I guide Ivy from the rooftop as we finish our round, down a dim corridor, away from the noise and crystalline laughter. I find a storage room and tug her inside. I shut and lock the door behind us, sealing us in the tiny space.

"Time for your advent calendar activity." I draw a length of crimson ribbon from my pocket, the silk cool against my fingers. I wonder if she remembers what promise awaits her.I'll make sure everyone knows you are mine."You know what to do."

Ivy's lips part, her pulse visible above that diamond collar. She turns, presenting her back to me - trust wrapped in emerald silk. We've played with blindfolds and bindings so this part doesn't surprise her. The ribbon slides over her eyes, a slash of red against her dark hair. I secure it with practiced ease, my knuckles brushing her temples.

"Too tight?"

"Perfect." Her voice carries that slight tremor I've come to crave.

I turn her to face me, drinking in the sight - blindfolded, wrapped in silk, wearing my diamonds. Mine. The possessive thought burns through my blood as I capture her mouth. She tastes of champagne and surrender, her hands finding purchase on my lapels.

I deepen the kiss, one hand sliding into her hair while the other traces the diamonds at her throat. She makes a small sound against my lips - need wrapped in silk. The kiss turns harder, darker, matching the hunger that's been building since I first saw her in that dress.

I spin her so that her back meets the door separating us from being caught. I break the kiss to trace the line of her jaw, following it to where her pulse meets diamond. Her breath catches as my teeth graze her skin.

"Julian..." My name falls from her lips like a prayer.

I silence her with another kiss, swallowing whatever words might have followed. The ribbon ensures she can't see, but I know she feels - my hands mapping her curves through silk, the press of Italian wool against her body, the way the diamonds shift with each gasping breath.

Ivy's breath hitches as I trail kisses down her neck, her pulse quickening under my lips. The sounds of the party seep through the cracked door - laughter, clinking glasses, the distant hum of conversation. But in here, it's just us.

Her hands grip my shoulders, her breath coming faster now. The blindfold adds a layer of trust, of surrender. I can see everything - the rise and fall of her chest, the way her lips part, the sharp intake of breath as my hands slide down her sides, catching the silk of her dress and pulling it up, inch by inch.

"Julian..." Her whisper is barely audible, a mix of anticipation and nerves.

"Shh." I brush my lips against hers, silencing her. The dress bunches at her waist, exposing long, smooth legs. I trace the lace edge of her panties, feeling her shiver under my touch. "You trust me?"

She nods, a small jerk of her head. I hook my fingers into the lace, tugging them down. Her breath catches as I trail kisses down her stomach, my hands gripping her hips. I can feel her tension, her excitement. She's never done anything like this before. The thrill of the unknown, the risk of being caught - it's intoxicating.

I kneel before her, my hands sliding up her thighs, spreading them apart. Her scent envelops me, sweet and heady. I press a kiss to her inner thigh, feeling her tremble. Her hands find my hair, fingers curling, holding on.

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