Page 53 of Taming Ivy
Glorious.
Tight.
A beautiful creature he had no right to possess.
Tangling a hand in her hair, Sebastian forced her head back while keeping the other clasped on her rear. Ivy shifted, adjusted to the pressure. When he surged forward, she did not push him away. Instead, with a strangled whimper, she pulled him closer, her fingernails biting through his coat and shirt. A strange rigidity within her gave way to his invasion and torrents of pleasure flooded his veins as she opened to him. He glided into silken depths he never wanted to escape.
Goddamn you, Ivy-how, how will I live without you? How? How did this happen? That my soul entwined with yours?
Soft flesh encompassed his, holding him a tight hostage, pulsating and hot. All around him, her heartbeat fluttered with the delicate energy of hummingbird wings in slow motion. Sebastian buried deeper, then deeper still, until he was within her to the hilt and could go no further.
“Youaremineatlast,thedeviltakeusboth,” he muttered against her pretty shell of an ear.
“Yes, yes.”
Mine…mine.
Mine forever.
Again, and again, he thrust, stealing her muffled pants and gasps with quick, ruthless kisses. Grinding, slow at first, then almost frantically, unable to understand how incredible, and how horrible, it felt to make this a reality.
Ivy’s fingers laced through his hair. Offering everything to him, her head lolled, her back arching.
“My god,” she breathed in awe. “I didn’t know it could be…yes, Sebastian,yes, yes. I’m yours,yours...”
An out of control wildfire, she burned him, her lushness coiling about him, squeezing tight as a vise. She hovered on the verge of peaking again; if he kept his pace, kissed her thoroughly with gentle, persuasive lips, she would discover ecstasy once more. And Sebastian knew he could not withstand her if this happened while inside her. His very soul would be lost.
If revenge was unnecessary, he would kiss her instead of breaking her...
Paradise this magnificent was not promised. The task hung over him, as heavy a burden as iron chains. Maybe it was a sign of his inner weakness or something born of shame, but when he finally spoke, his voice quivered. Whatever it was, he shoved it aside. His words, the actions, his body- they were all instruments of his vengeance.
“I want you every night.” With each heated whisper of a word, he bit the flesh of her throat, thrilling to her moans of agreement. “Every goddamn night.” His thrusts slowed. The giddy combination of heat, soft perfume and the brandy consumed earlier was making his head swim. Possessing Ivy was akin to drowning in an opium den, the sensations overwhelming and disorienting, the room swirling as her sweet softness drugged him.
“I want you available when I have need of you. In my bed, on my desk, in my coach, my library, my goddamn dining room table if I have the notion to fuck you there…I want to bury myself in you whenever and wherever I want.” His sharp teeth nipped her ear. “Do you understand me, Ivy?”
“Yes, Sebastian, yes.” Her murmur came apart when he ground harder against her. Slick with arousal, oblivious to his brutal words, willing to accept anything he did, she tried to answer him. “Anything…as your wife, I will do anything…tell me, show me. I love you so much...”
“Wife?”The harsh laugh was punishing. “You misunderstand me, butterfly. Goddamn. No, not my wife. Never that. I want you as my mistress. Don’t you understand? My mistress. My own lovely, little whore to be used when and where and however I like.”
Had Ivy heard him? Maybe she could not comprehend his meaning. Gliding in and out of her heat, Sebastian’s brain vaguely registered every explosion of rapture while waiting for the words to penetrate. Another minute and he would forgive her, take her with tenderness. He would kiss her and care for her pleasure. Beg her forgiveness.
That could not happen. Sebastian focused on revenge.Revenge. Remember, this is for Timothy. Remember, she is heartless…she caused his death…remember, you don’t love her. You can’t love her. You… cannot.
A heartbeat passed. A second. A lifetime. An eternity.
In one huge gasp, Ivy sucked in her breath. She locked up in his arms.
There was a roaring within Sebastian to stop, but it was impossible. This business of destroying her would certainly kill him too; the tidal wave, once it overflowed, rushed forth to extinguish everything in its path.
“Your mistress? Your...whore.” Stumbling on the words, her hands, encased in pristine white silk, braced against the wall of his chest. “Sebastian? I don’t understand. I don’t…you- you don’t want to marry me? You don't want…?” She stared uncomprehendingly as Sebastian methodically ripped apart her soul with everything brutal inside his own.
She said she loves you.
“What man wouldn’t want you?” Pressing tiny kisses to the outermost corners of her lips, his body continued its seductive assault, punctuating words with unending thrusts of his hips. Ivy’s eyes were unfocused, as if she could not understand what was being said; as though his words were a foreign language she had yet to learn. “Heartless little butterfly. Did you actually believe I would take you as my wife? Marriage isn’t quite the thing for a woman like you. Not with your reputation. Not with your black, empty soul.”
He was unprepared for the stinging slap across his face, but he half expected it. Like a heated sword slicing through flesh, it cut through his woozy pleasure.
“How dare you!” Ivy choked. “You- you bastard.”
