by April Moran
Sebastian’s fingers did not move to those bits of silk. Instead, he kissed her with growing insistence, and Ivy hated him when her eyes became wet with tears.
"I should have considered how my actions would affect you,” he murmured, hands cradling her face, his thumbs gently swiping away the dampness on her cheeks. “I did not think…”
"Whatever you are going to do, do it quickly and leave me be.”
Grim determination settled over his features and Ivy shuddered, abruptly realizing what she just gave him permission to do. He would not allow her to detach herself, would not allow her to deny her own pleasure. Resignation froze her in place as he gently unplaited the braid of her hair until the shiny chestnut strands flowed over her shoulders. A wounded doe, she had placed herself at the feet of the wolf and dared him not to devour her.
His thumb brushed the curve of her jaw. "Shall I show you how sincere I am in my apology?”
Ivy arched to avoid contact, but it only made it easier for him to touch her. He cupped her breasts through the cloud of fabric, filling his hands with her flesh and like heated sugar, her insides melted. “You and your apologies be damned.” A moan, tiny and helpless, drowning in the back of her throat, revealed everything.
Sebastian smiled at the sound of it.
He abruptly spun her around, pulling her against him until his hips cradled her bottom and she was anchored in place. Keeping one arm locked around her waist, he swept the mass of hair off her neck while his other hand moved to her breast. Teasing her through the delicate cloth, he applied slight pressure to her nipple, pinching harder before those wicked fingers moved to torment the other.
Ivy lurched away, but Sebastian’s arm tightened, forcing her to feel every part of his muscled form and the rigid proof of his desire. Rocking against her, his hand drifted to the junction of her thighs, and then he was cupping her there. When he nuzzled her ear, Ivy quivered. She could resist him. She must resist him! But that seemed impossible when he ignited every nerve ending in her body.
Sebastian’s fingers moved away from her center, wandering up along her flanks. She gulped in relief that his hand was no longer between her legs until there was a slight tug on the ribbons. A flutter of fabric and the gown fell away as if commanded by unseen forces. Ivy braced herself, knowing what was to come, the sweet and savage wildness of it all as his hand slid over the silky skin of her stomach to nestle again at the apex of her thighs. His fingers delved into her heat, his other hand stroking her breast.
Between kisses to the slender column of her throat, Sebastian’s laugh contained a rueful softness. "Look down, Ivy. See my hands upon you? How you tremble...so violently…your little pants of breath, the heat of your skin. The way your pupils dilate when I touch you here…like this.” He pressed two fingers against the throbbing button of flesh and Ivy gasped. “Knowing how I affect you drives me crazy.” Running his tongue in a swirling pattern on the sensitive skin at the back of her neck elicited another whimper from her. “I am sorry for tonight, my love. How shall I prove it to you?”
"Be quick then leave me alone.” Ivy sagged against him. Blood rushed through her veins so hard and fast she felt faint. His mouth on her skin was an awful reminder of his power over her and the delight she found in it.
Glancing down, she immediately wished she had not. Against the creamy hue of her flesh, the darkness of his hands was hypnotic. "Please.” Her ability to resist was near a breaking point, the whisper a desperate plea. "Just do what you must…" She felt his smile as he nuzzled her.
"Oh, Ivy. My very heartbeat. It's not that simple. Not between us. Don't you realize this by now?" Spearing his fingers through the soft curls between her thighs, his mouth fastened on the nape of her neck. With just enough pressure to trigger pain, he bit her.
A thrill flashed straight to the center of Ivy’s soul.
Keeping a steady tempo with his fingers, his teeth repeatedly sank into her flesh in different places along the line of her shoulder and neck. The pain was almost too sharp, the pattern of nibbles and full mouth tastes of her skin always followed by a sweep of his tongue to soothe the sting.
The overload of stimulation was too much. Ivy came apart, intense pleasure leaving her on the point of collapse. Sebastian held her tight to prevent her from sinking to the floor in a puddle of satisfaction. The sensations coursing through her were too dangerous, too powerful, too much of everything to fully comprehend or absorb.
She was barely aware when he scooped her up. Carrying her to his room, he laid her diagonally across the huge bed, and he appeared to hover on the edge of indecision. Then slowly, Sebastian turned her on her stomach, gathering her hair off the nape of her neck. Weakened, confused, Ivy remained as he placed her, listening as he divested himself of his trousers. When his warm hands smoothed over her buttocks, a nervous jolt of awareness streaked through her. She tried to roll from the bed, but he quickly prevented any hope of escape.
"Shhh, little butterfly. Do not flutter about so. I swear there will be only pleasure. Trust me, sweet Ivy. God knows you’ve reason enough not to, but trust me in this. I won’t harm you…"
The words were dark whispers, his large hands roaming the twin mounds of her bottom. With exacting pressure, he pushed her shoulders until she was once again flat on her stomach then seizing her by the hips, he tugged her to the edge of the bed to stand between her legs. Ivy pressed her cheek against the coverlet, her arms tucked beneath her body until Sebastian gently dragged them high over her head.
“Stay,” he murmured, and Ivy did as he ordered, trembling, waiting, hating herself for the anticipation strumming through her veins.
She did not like this position, the helplessness of it. She did not like being unable to see what Sebastian intended to do. Still, she did not move, not even when his hand swept into the heat between her legs, causing her to moan in distressed delight. When two of his fingers pressed deep inside her, she choked back a cry and did as he commanded. She stayed.
This unfamiliar position was intoxicating. And confusing. Her body did not know whether to bear down on his hand and the firmness of the bed, or rise up to meet the slow plunging. Her hands twisted the coverlet as his fingers sank into her again and again, the sensation so different from when he stroked her to completion, when the focus centered on the tiny bit of flesh at the apex of her center. Those strong, clever fingers delved deep, drawing her moisture out, the unrelenting movements driving her closer to the edge of heaven. Her hips undulated with the pace he set.
"Are you ready for me, Ivy?" Sebastian murmured, tracing the outline of her spine with his tongue. From the nape of her neck to the hollow of her lower back, he blazed a trail of fire before his teeth raked over the twin globes of her buttocks. His fingers never stopped the relentless surging in and out and Ivy was unable to stop her body from mimicking the motion of his hand. “This is your duty, after all. To submit, to do as I bid you. Sweet love, you are so wet, so hot. You will not deny your responsibility to this. How can you when you need it as much as I?" His low voice contained an undeniable note of bitterness.
“Stop…” Ivy trembled uncontrollably, the sensations becoming too much to endure. She was going mad, insane, her skin coming loose from bones. Despite begging him to cease, her hips continued to rise and fall, her body writhing against his hand, clenching on his fingers in greedy demand. “Please....please...”
Sebastian ignored her, laughing softly. Hardly missing a beat, his fingers were replaced with the smooth fullness of his erection. The heat and width of his body, stretching her, only half-buried inside her and yet filling her so unequivocally, sent her soaring. He whispered a hoarse command, “Let me in,” impaling her until she opened to him completely.
His harsh groan of conquest echoed in the room and Ivy exploded with a shuddering cry, her flesh clamping around him when he thrust harder, burying himself to the hilt. A rushing wave of intense pleasure covered her. Disoriented, she could only gasp helplessly.
Sebas
tian let the sensations wash and ebb before gripping her hips with hard, needy hands. Lifting her, he placed her in the position he desired, on her hands and knees. Shaken by her powerful response, Ivy attempted to edge away only earn a cautionary slap to her rump. He bent over her, caging her with his body and preventing escape.
“Again.” The demand was a cajoling hiss against the nape of her neck. He nipped her ear and she writhed against him, her rounded bottom hitting the lower portion of his belly in a tentative rocking motion. Keeping one hand on her flank, Sebastian guided her, fisting a handful of her hair in the other, tangling his fingers almost painfully in it. Dominating her, mastering her, he plunged into her body as though she were specifically crafted for his lust.
Ivy welcomed it. Even as he pulled her hair until her face turned to his and their mouths sealed together. Even when he kissed her with brutal possessiveness, taking her like a stallion mounting a mare, the act and position a primal reminder she belonged to him. He would do to her as he pleased. And she allowed it.
Because she loved him. She had always loved him. She would always love him. Only him. She would love him until her heart stopped beating. Until the world and everything in it fell apart around them. The knowledge destroyed her. Inside, she wept as Sebastian pushed her with relentless authority to the glittering edge then tumbled over with her, at the end of his own endurance.
Their climaxes drained them both. His body sagged over hers as they sank into the mattress, melting into the bedclothes. His muscled chest pressed like a heavy weight against her back, but Ivy did not care if he crushed her. She was too lethargic to care, too fragile and emotionally bruised. Confused by her own emotions and feelings for this man, this man who trampled her so brutally and caressed her with such aching tenderness at the same time. What was wrong with her? Why did she allow him to do such wicked things and secretly thrill to have them done? How had he managed to corrupt her to the point she craved his touch even when he hurt her so terribly?
"I don't give a damn if you believe this is merely your duty,” Sebastian abruptly rolled to his back, pulling Ivy to him, his lips touching her temple in a fleeting caress. “I won't allow you to keep yourself from me.”
Ivy turned on her side, away from him, trembling. Even after that rocketing encounter, when it seemed he’d reached into her soul, she was icy as ever.
"What are you thinking?" Sebastian swallowed around the sharp pain in his throat. It devastated him that she would not bend. Why would she not allow him inside her heart?
"You said this is my duty.” She sounded sleepy and unexpectedly heartbroken.
He could not hide his bitterness. “Yes.”
"Is that all this is to you?"
“What is this to you, Ivy?” Silence fell between them until he rasped, "I overheard you with Sara.” She did not respond. Did his eavesdropping offend her? It’s my damned house…I will listen to any conversation I damn well please. "You think sharing my bed is a responsibility until you give me my heir.” His voice cracked with restrained vehemence. "Ivy, no matter how many sons you give me, one or a dozen, I will still want you. With every breath of my soul, I crave you. My hunger, my appetite for you, is insatiable. I suggest you accustom yourself to that fact.”
Rising to a half - sitting position, Ivy’s eyes flashed in the dim light. "What would you have me tell Sara? That Lord Bentley should have her before marriage?” She laughed softly at Sebastian’s frown. “The consequences for a woman are so much greater than a man can comprehend. If only it were a simple matter of indulging our desires without a care. Shall I advise her not to wait? Throw all caution to the wind? To take her chances and pray a child is not conceived before vows are exchanged? "
"You said this was a duty, to provide my children. I need more from you than a damned heir to my estates.” His words dripped with ice. "I want more than that.”
Ivy’s lower lip trembled. "This is my duty. I swore a vow before God, and I will honor it. Sebastian…how could I possibly tell Sara how this feels? That every time you touch me, I shatter. That I am turned to liquid, your kisses leave me weak, wanting more. When I feel most alive is in your arms. Should I tell her that sometimes my heart feels so full of emotion I believe it may burst? Do you think this will keep her from her beloved’s bed until they wed?" She choked as the confession tumbled out. “The scandal would ruin her and I adore her too much to wish my experiences upon her, to have the ton rip apart her soul with their viciousness. I know too well how it hurts.”
The reality of the truth, hearing it from Ivy’s lips, stung more than Sebastian ever imagined. Knowing she felt so deeply for him, even after his many abuses of her, twisted his gut. He’d done things, things impossible to undo. And it seemed he could not stop making the same mistakes.
It was unwise, returning to London so soon after their wedding. At Beaumont, matters were simplistic, their relationship becoming a passionate, sweet yearning neither could resist. But in this house, it was altogether different. Sebastian imagined he felt the ghost of Timothy Garrett lingering between them and his aunt’s thinly veiled censure coated the air like a poisoned fog. The heavy eyes of the ton watched their every move, reporting all with glee. It left him with a heightened sense of betrayal and an unfortunate tendency of overreacting. He was the very Devil, here in London.
Ivy was right. What else could she have said to Sara? What other advice was there to give? Sebastian felt sick. Good God, how could she abide him when he continued to torment her like this? He caused her such heartache. He truly was a monster.
"Is this why you abandoned me tonight?" Ivy asked quietly.
"Damnit, Ivy, I apologized.”
"Your apologies are used to bend me to your will. You do and say what you wish and pathetic creature that I am, I forgive you. And allow you to do far worse the next time. You proved your mastery over me. Congratulations.”
"Bloody hell, it's not like that." Sebastian slumped against the pillows, an arm resting across his forehead while he struggled to find the right words. "I want you in my bed because you wish it. I want you with me because you love me. Not because you believe it is your duty to be here. I want you, Ivy. All of you. I will not rest, damn it, I cannot rest until I have all of you. I’m going mad trying to find a way to make you mine.”
Ivy crumpled. Unable to keep from touching him, one small hand came to rest upon his chest, right on his heart and Sebastian covered it with his own, trapping her slender fingers.
For a long time, they lay in silence, each wrestling with despair. Just when he believed she must have fallen asleep, Ivy gave a deep sigh.
"Sebastian, don’t you understand?" she said, soft and drowsy with exhaustion. "I’ve always been yours.”
Chapter 38
Sebastian watched Ivy donned a riding habit. She did not bother to ring for Molly's assistance. "Where are you going?" A flare of panic ignited in his eyes.
Waking from a restless slumber to find one’s wife entirely dressed, ready to escape, was surely an unnerving sight and regret stabbed Ivy. She’d grown accustomed to their mornings together; sharing tea, coffee, and sugar biscuits while discussing their plans for the day were now treasured moments. But not this morning. Her emotions were too tangled and raw to face him without bursting into overwrought tears.
Her boots were yanked on with fierce tugs. "Riding.” Taking a deep breath, she clarified, "Alone. I... I need time alone. To think.”
Sebastian’s gaze morphed into cool steel. "It's not safe at this hour.”
"I'll take a groom.” Ivy finally dared to look at him reclining against the pillows, bare chested, sheets twisted about his waist. A lock of raven black hair tumbled over his brow; she almost crossed over to brush it back before catching herself. Considering her intention, his jaw clenched with annoyance.
"Stay close to your escort. And Ivy, when you return, you and I will have a necessary conversation on what is to be done.”
Tears springing to her eyes, Ivy ducked her head and
hurried from the room.
No one was stirring in the stables at this time of the morning so Ivy saddled Spring herself and led the mare to the curving gravel path in front of the stables. While wondering if she possessed the bravery to defy Sebastian’s order, Gabriel rounded the corner of the building. Even in the grey predawn light, his broad form was recognizable.
Ivy’s lips tightened. "He rang for you the moment I left, didn’t he?”
"Of course. Which is why I must ask where is your groom, milady?" Gabriel’s brow rose high as Ivy climbed the mounting block without answering him. He held Spring by the bit while she mounted the mare and gathered the reins. The leather was buttery soft in her bare hands; in the haste to escape Sebastian, she forgot both riding gloves and hat.
"There’s no one to ask.”
“You cannot ride unaccompanied.” He held up a hand as Ivy made to argue the point. “He’ll have my head on a platter, as well you know.”
Ivy met Gabriel’s calm amber-hued stare. "Try to keep up, but do not get too close. I desire privacy this morning and after last night's fiasco, I deserve it.”
At first, she kept a sedate pace, contemplating the evening before. The fact Sebastian overheard her comments to Sara muddled things in their fragile relationship. Did she truly mean those words now? Sebastian pressed for something she could not give him... a declaration of love, a surrender of her soul she could not bear to actually forfeit. He wanted to possess all parts of her. She shivered, thinking of the previous evening. The dominant nature of Sebastian’s lovemaking was worrisome, containing some element of male governance she had yet to unravel.
Ivy wished herself a million miles from London, from England, away from the troubles twisting her inside out. She was shattered from fighting her husband and her own emotions; mentally exhausted in these attempts to outfox him. She craved blankness, a tiny sliver of time where she could wipe her mind clean. When her knees touched Spring’s flanks, the mare shot forward, eager to gallop at the speed her mistress demanded and Ivy realized that peace was attainable, if only for a short time, riding in the early morning fog.
