by April Moran
Ivy was far from vain but hoping her appearance would not inflame a man’s passions was foolish. Red-hot rage flowed like a river, over and through her. Sebastian had no right to see her like this…no right! But there was no stopping his gaze from devouring her, burning her, from memorizing every detail of her body. She could only tremble and endure it.
Sebastian seemed almost dazed when his eyes finally rose to clash with hers. “Goddamnit, Ivy. You would tempt a saint.”
“You are hurting me,” was her hissed response.
“Am I?” Sebastian blinked, his words softly chilling. And gentle. “Maybe I want to hurt you. Maybe this is the only way to handle you and what lies between us. Or perhaps this is some horrible form of self-torture, something I deserve…”
A flash of pain stabbed Ivy. Memories of teasing one another during a game of whist, laughing over bumblebees, and soft, hot, soul-searching kisses by a babbling stream bombarded her. Waltzes by moonlight, playing piano for him. The sweet gifts he gave her, the thoughtful gestures no one else probably noticed. She recalled every instance he held her hand tight. The occasions he steadied her on the steps into Kinley House because a sheet of ice lay over them. She remembered when he tugged her to him, her head resting against his shoulder in sleepy contentment coming back from seeing a play. The quirk in his lips whenever he called her “little butterfly.” And she relived each and every kiss they’d shared, starting with the first disastrous one in her music room.
A hysterical sob caught in Ivy’s throat. She tried turning her head but he would not allow it, would not let her escape so easily.
“You are driving me to goddamn madness. Do you realize that?” Sebastian's voice lowered, became softer. “I’ve said things that I should never…done terrible things. Dear God, what are you doing to me? What have I done to you?”
Frustrated regret shaded his words, regret Ivy did not have time to dwell on as his mouth closed over hers in familiar, searing possessiveness. Panicked, she kicked at him, but he simply threw one muscled leg across both of hers. For a long time, with exquisite, beautiful roughness, he simply kissed her.
Only when she stilled beneath him, limbs quivering, did his approach become gentle. Nibbling at her lips, sucking her mouth into the heated vortex of his own, his tongue delved in and out, stroking persuasively. The grip on her wrists loosened, not enough to release her, but enough so he would not bruise her.
Ivy struggled to hold herself from him, to hold tight to her anger, her fury. She tried, oh how she tried, to ignore the shivers vibrating through her, to ignore the awful trembling in the pit of her stomach, the thrill when his tongue coaxed hers to mate with his. Each time Sebastian lifted his mouth from hers, she turned her head, determined he would not kiss her again. But he was stubborn and relentless and she was drunk and tired, heartbroken. He wore her defenses down, and she had missed him too much to remain frozen forever in his embrace.
Nuzzling behind her ear, his teeth raked a sensitive spot where the line of her neck met the curve of her collarbone. She inhaled sharply, hating him when her pulse jumped in instant response. When his mouth drifted to her breasts, her low moan could not be contained. The last bit of flimsy protection the corset provided drifted away, magically disposed of. How he accomplished it she did not know, but with the exception of stockings, the last of the roses tangled in her hair and the diamond necklace, she was bare.
“Shhh…” Sebastian’s lips burned everywhere they pressed, his words a litany of desperate hunger sucking her in. “Quiet now. Easy…easy. Sweetness, my beautiful little butterfly. Let me touch you, Ivy, yes, yes, that’s it. Let me have you…let me love you. This is madness, what is between us...a fire that cannot be extinguished. A thirst I can't seem to quench. Somehow, you’ve destroyed me and I cannot bear it. God, I’ve missed you so terribly.”
One hand roamed her body, gliding, touching wherever he desired. Easing the weight of his leg away, he traced an intricate pattern on the soft skin of her knees, trailing his fingers up between her thighs and Ivy helplessly, hopelessly, opened to him.
It was a losing battle to the warmth of the room, the heat of his kisses, the beguiling scent of lush blooms. A sly lassitude stole her will to fight him, easing Sebastian’s path. She floated, weightless and dizzy. She was supposed to be angry. She must attempt to free herself, but she found it difficult to muster the required fury when sapped of all her strength.
As his mouth closed over the peach perfection of one breast, Ivy twisted against his grip in one last act born of desperation, moaning in despair at her own weakness.
Sebastian growled against the honey softness of her flesh, applying the same attention to the other breast until she was breathless and straining against him. Unable to fight him any longer, she returned his kiss when he claimed her mouth again. His fingers danced lightly over the flesh between her thighs, finding her wet and velvety. When he slid one devilish finger into her depths, her stomach clenched. The sensation was almost unbearable. He stretched and filled her, pushing deep to slide against a secret part of her. His mouth remained locked on hers, mimicking the drawing and stroking motion of his finger until Ivy dissolved in knife-sharp pleasure.
There was no need to hold her prisoner now. Melting against Sebastian in a tangle of legs and arms, warm, adrift, every bone in her body disintegrated, her climax shattering her with its intensity. She was nothing more than a pliable doll, to be toyed with as he wished.
He rose from the bed to tug her stockings off, tossing them aside so they fluttered to the Turkish carpet like ivory feathers. Rustling noises drifted to her ears as if from far away and when Sebastian’s nude body covered hers, Ivy was not shocked. He fisted one large hand in her hair, pulling her face to his. Kissing her with a restrained roughness, he slid between her legs, and she tasted the sweet bitterness of brandy on his lips.
He branded her, flames of fire licking her flesh everywhere their skin touched. The muscled length of his legs parting hers was strange and thrilling, the coarse hair of his thighs slightly abrasive against her smooth skin. Dreading the pain felt the first time, her knees instinctively bent as he fit against her. She tensed, waiting for him to thrust inside her.
Sebastian immediately stilled. He removed the red rose from the tangles of her hair with careful fingers. His eyes never leaving hers, he deliberately tore the blossom apart, cascading the fragrant petals over her breasts and stomach.
Ivy’s heart jerked, stopped, then found its beat. Her ritual with the roses. He knew why she did it, understood the unspoken message directed only to him. She wanted to sob. She wanted to scream. To laugh.
She wanted him to never let her go.
Splaying her fingers against the hard plane of his chest, she neither pulled him close nor pushed him away. She simply waited, covered in rose petals. A log in the fire cracked apart, the shower of sparks highlighting the depths of his eyes. His hips tilted to the entrance of her body and Ivy swallowed convulsively. His shaft felt impossibly large and hard against her tense softness. How did that ever fit inside me?
“I hurt you before,” he whispered. “My poor darling girl. Forgive me.”
Ivy’s eyes fluttered shut. Did he speak of when he took her virginity and broke her heart? Or earlier tonight, when his cruel words lashed her and striped her soul? Then she could not think at all as he slid with excruciating deliberateness, with heart-stopping finality, full length into her. Once sheathed to the hilt, Sebastian paused, a shudder of a breath escaping him. His arms trembled slightly.
When he took her on her father’s desk, the act hurt so terribly. But even then, that terrible night, a confusing compulsion to keep him inside her, to have him slide deeper, made the possession feel strangely beautiful. That same bewildering urge overcame Ivy now as Sebastian’s body stretched hers. The stinging pain she felt was not as sharp as she remembered, not as painful as before; in fact, the discomfort was short-lived, quickly melting to become something else. Something wicked and dazzling and
just beyond her reach. The rich fullness of him inside her ignited every nerve ending she possessed and ones she never knew existed. Invasion drove all coherent thought from her brain. Unexpected ripples of ecstasy cascaded throughout her limbs. Shameful how easily she succumbed to his caresses. Later, when she was sober, she would hate herself for it, but right now, pleasure swamped her until she was drowning in it.
Seconds ticked away as he waited. And waited. Until Ivy realized he waited for her.
A twinge pulled at her, tugging at the depths of her stomach, the very depths of her soul. Whether it was the alcohol or his touch, or both, her senses reeled in a kaleidoscope of intense delight. A tiny portion of her brain still howled in protest but the last bit of willpower to resist evaporated. She would not stop him.
She shifted, her hips lifting in a tentative gesture. Sebastian’s sigh was almost imperceptible. His dark head dipped to her breast. Easing one nipple into the moist heat of his mouth, he rolled his tongue over the peak, biting down, gently at first, then with increasing pressure. And Ivy was lost.
Clutching at his broad shoulders, her palms smoothed over the rippling muscles. His body joined with hers felt so different from the other times when he brought her to a shattering peak with his fingers. This, this possession felt more intense, more powerful. More everything.
“Sebastian.” Her moan was soft. “Yes...”
Sebastian's dark head lifted, a flame of triumph glittering in the depths of his eyes. Ivy didn’t care.
“You are mine, Ivy, although you may believe otherwise.” His words curled around her. “I won’t let you go now. You belong to me. Damn you…damn us both…damn this crazy world and everyone in it, but you belong to me. Do you understand? You’ve always been mine. You always will be. Mine.
Chapter 17
The night he so brutally snatched her innocence from her, Sebastian did not fully appreciate the rare, fleeting beauty the Heavens gave him.
He meant to hurt her then, to abuse the trust she placed in him, to punish her. But now, he wanted Ivy with a desperation never experienced before. He wanted to possess her until she moaned his name with every thrust of his hips. He needed to see the flush of passion on her skin as he brushed it with his lips, to taste her arousal and drink her in like the finest of wines. He ached to give her such soaring pleasure, every painful memory beginning with him would be forever erased.
Come morning, Ivy would hate him again, if she remembered this seduction, if intoxication did not blot it from her memory. Sebastian knew he would remember this night for the rest of his life. He experienced a fleeting pang of remorse. He wanted her to remember it too, without anger or the ugly cloud of revenge shadowing the memory.
Ivy squirmed, her long slender legs wrapping loosely around him, and Sebastian paled, sweat beading on his brow. The rose petals he scattered across her stomach rubbed softly against his skin. It took all his strength to keep from surging into her.
Christ, she had no inkling of the power she held over him. Her lush tightness, all of her inner channel muscles, were clenched against his intrusion. Despite his bitter accusations and her own words to the contrary, Sebastian knew he was Ivy’s only lover. He could not mistake the signs of flesh well acquainted with pleasure, not after the number of women he had enjoyed over the years. Her body was taut around him, almost unbearably so, her arms and legs awkwardly wrapped about him in innocent desire. No, Ivy was still his. Despite the pain and heartache suffered at his hand, she was his alone.
With the flurry of a trapped hummingbird, her heartbeat thumped, working its way to the inside of his veins, in his head, around his shaft. She reached to ruffle her fingers through the thick waves of his hair, brushing back a lock from his brow, and Sebastian closed his eyes in torment.
Jaw clenched, he finally met her questioning gaze and said, “Bloody hell, you aren’t making it easy for me to do this slowly.” He nudged forward a little more.
“I don’t understand.” Ivy’s ragged whisper was half gasp and half moan. “Would you rather move quickly?”
Sebastian choked back a laugh, his forehead touching hers. His blood thickened to the consistency of lava. “Ivy, slow or fast, it won’t matter. I’ve no control with you. Holy hell, you have no idea what you are doing to me.”
Sliding his lips along the side of her neck, he nibbled at the slim column until he reached one of her earlobes. With a tiny bite, he won a gasp. When he chased it with a sweep of his tongue to ease the sting, she gave him a melting sigh. His hips prodded hers, and with a maddening rhythm, began to slide in, then out, stretching her, filling her. The blood whirred around his head in a self-contained tornado, exploding into his veins, rushing to the extremities of his body.
The silk of her skin, the warmth of her, her scent. That damned orange and lily perfume combined with the aroma of crushed roses; it all surrounded him. He rocked against her, the tempo slow then quicker, harder. Containing his impatience made him quiver. Sliding a hand to the outside of her thigh, he hitched her leg higher. Maybe he could ease back to a rhythm that would not send him catapulting into a climax.
“Damnit...” Gliding into her slick heat was far too easy in this position. With a silent groan of anguish, he gave a compulsive, deep plunge and suddenly, everything within Ivy tightened around him.
It was the strangest sensation. Even with his vast experience, Sebastian never felt its like before. He tried to withdraw, to slow himself, to slow her, but it all rushed so recklessly, too quickly, too frantically. Ivy would not allow his retreat. Clutching him, she arched with a high, keening cry of pleasure.
A portion of his consciousness shouted at him, to withdraw before it was too late, but he could not resist. With a strangled curse, he thrust into her just one degree more. Taking her, branding her, marking her as his possession. The need to find release was excruciating.
“God, Ivy…I can’t stop.”
Her orgasm sent beautiful shivering waves reverberating throughout his entire body. She trembled beneath him. Catching her hips in an almost violent grip, he tried holding her immobile.
“Don’t stop.” Was her broken response. “Oh, please…Sebastian…please.”
He plummeted with her incoherent command, spilling inside her with a hoarse, muffled shout of male conquest, a forceful culmination of pent up desire and the need to possess. He barely heard Ivy crying out her pleasure. The throbbing satisfaction inside him was almost painful, the world fading to black as he gave himself to her. His heart, his very soul exploded from him, rocketing around the world before slamming back into his body with the fury of a lightning strike.
When sanity returned, Sebastian discovered the pieces of himself, the fragments missing for so very long, were right there before him. This girl, this exasperating, headstrong, mysterious girl, held them all along.
Such frightening sensations, he mused, these quivers of protectiveness unfurling in his heart for the girl lying damp and breathless beneath him. So foreign and yet, nothing ever felt more magnificent than holding her, feeling the quivering of her body. Slipping his arms under her shoulders, he folded Ivy closer to him, savoring the odd, fragile emotions, promising himself he would not be so selfish again in their lovemaking. Something extraordinary had happened to him, although it was all too terrifying to contemplate in its entirety.
As his heartbeat slowed, finding its normal cadence, he felt the slightest change sweep over her. Sebastian frowned, puzzled by the new, soft ripples.
She was weeping.
Rolling to his side, he positioned Ivy until she lay cradled against him, her head pillowed on his shoulder. Tears splashed his skin, her breath moist where it feathered his neck. With soothing murmurs, he stroked her hair, brushing kisses against her forehead, but she did not acknowledge his caresses as a tangle of emotions escaped.
She cried for a long time, until only ragged breaths of exhaustion remained and she drifted into a restless slumber. Sebastian rose and threw on a silk robe, crossing the room to
lean a forearm against the marble mantle.
There were so many things to consider, things lurking below the surface of his controlled veneer. Something far more lethal than revenge and punishment had wrapped itself around his heart. Rubbing his chest, he stared into the flames of the banked fire. It was harder than he imagined, scouring away the guilt plaguing him since that night in her father’s study.
A stark realization illuminated his entire being; twisting sensations evolving from the moment he laid eyes on Ivy at the Sheffield Ball. Emerging from the darkened corner of Kinley House’s entry hall and in the shadowy interior of his own coach. Unfurling in dazzling beauty on ballroom floors as he whirled Ivy to the lilting strains of waltzes. Feathering coyly during walks in the moonlight. Without warning, these emotions bloomed in the shade of a cove of elm trees and flourished while duels were fought with persistent bumblebees. But tonight- tonight everything burst forth in full conquering glory. Like a butterfly born in spring.
He needed Ivy. He wanted her. He longed for her smile, her touch, her scent.
I love her.
Loved her beyond all reason. Loved her fire, her sweetness, her soul. Her body. Her mind. All of her.
Tonight changed everything. Sebastian glanced at the bed, where the source of his confusion and the threat to his sanity slept in a tangled heap of white silk sheets and red rose petals. He wanted to crawl back beside her, gather her close and shield her from men who would hurt her, men like himself.
Gingerly, he touched his shoulder. Ivy was not completely helpless. Her teeth left their mark, and drunk or not, she fought like a true hellion. With the frustrated awareness of a man who planned for everything, who held purpose and reason for every action, Sebastian was suddenly unsure of his next steps. He made love to her…and it would never be enough. This obsession would never end. He wanted her for eternity.