Page 45

She wondered if he dreamed of a different life. If he had not been stolen from his childhood and subjected to a lifetime of pain and experimentation, what would he have been? Wouldhe have been a gentle soul, with a laugh that filled rooms and a heart that loved freely? Would he have known the warmth of a loving wife and children?

Her heart ached for the lost potential of this man, a man who had been molded into a monster by the very system that had promised to protect him. She felt a pang of pity for the orphaned boy who had been transformed into the feared villain before her. Despite the horrors he had inflicted, she saw a glimpse of the humanity he struggled to conceal beneath his mask.

That morning, they ate breakfast in silence, she noted the subtle changes in the castle, signs of a world continuing outside their twisted bubble. The clank of metal on metal, the faint whiff of smoke from the distant city.

"What's wrong with just staying in the courtyard?" she asked looking at him with pity. "You can't keep me locked in here forever."

"No, Ivy,” he smirked, looking at her out of the corner of his eye before looking back at his plate of food.

"Please, Vice." She purrs, turning slowly to him, a sweet smile on her face.

Vice turned back to look at her, his gaze lingers on her, his thoughts momentarily tangled in the web of desire she so adeptly weaved. "You know the rules," he replies gruffly, though the tension in his jaw betrays his own internal conflict. He knows her game, the subtle dance of seduction that's been playing out between them since she first stepped foot in his fortress.

Ivy smiles, a glint in her eye. She crosses the room with a feline grace; her movements deliberate and mesmerizing.Standing before him, she traces a slender finger along the edge of the breakfast table, leaving a trail of tantalizing warmth. "But rules are made to be broken," she whispers, leaning in so close that her breath caresses his cheek.

Vice's resolve wavers, the scent of her perfume invading his senses. He grabs her wrist, his grip firm but not painful. "You're playing a dangerous game," he warns, his voice low and gruff.

Ivy laughs lightly, the sound echoing in the vast space. "Is that all you think I’m doing?" she asks, tilting her head to the side. Her eyes sparkle with mischief, challenging him to see beyond the surface of their arrangement.

Vice's gaze drops to her lips, the plump curves taunting him. He knows she's baiting him, but the allure is undeniable. He leans back.

"I can’t see you doing anything other than being a beautiful puzzle," he murmurs. "One that I've yet to solve."

Their eyes lock, a silent negotiation passing between them. Ivy's pulse quickens, her heart beating a seductive rhythm that he can almost hear. She kneels in front of him and lays her head on his lap "Then why don't you try?" she suggests, her voice a siren's call. Her hands snake up to his zipper.

Vice's breath hitches as her fingers brush against him. He's torn between the desire to keep her contained and the urge to let her have her way. His hands rest on her shoulders, tightening slightly. "You know I can't trust you," he says, his voice a gravelly rasp.

Ivy looks up at him, her eyes filled with a challenge. "I know and I can't trust you either,” her voice a sultry purr. "But we're both players in this game, aren't we?"

Vice's hand moves to the back of her neck, his grip tightening slightly. "A game you might not survive," he warns, his eyes darkening.

"But what's the fun in living if there's no risk?" she counters, her voice a velvety challenge. She runs her palms along the inside of his thighs, feeling the heat of his body through the fabric of his pants. His muscles tense beneath her touch, a silent admission of his desire.

Vice's eyes flicker with a mix of frustration and lust. He's not a man to be easily manipulated, but Ivy's tactics are wearing him down. He leans back in his chair, watching her every move with a predatory gaze.

"Show me," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "Show me how much you want it."

Ivy smiles up at him, a smile filled with promise and danger. Her eyes never leaving his as she slowly pulls the zipper down, revealing the hardness that awaits beneath.

Her hand is gentle as it wrapped around his cock, drawing it out into the cool air. She brings her mouth close, so close that he can feel the heat of her breath. With a flick of her tongue, she traces the slit of his cock, causing him to shiver.

"You're mine," she murmurs, her eyes locked on his, "and I want to taste every inch of you."

Vice's control snaps as Ivy takes him into her mouth, her lips wrapping around him like a warm, wet vice. He groans,his head falling back as she sucks with a passionate hunger that leaves him trembling. Her tongue swirls and dances, exploring every ridge and vein, driving him to the brink of madness.

The room seems to spin as he watches her, the sight of her kneeling before him, her eyes closed in pleasure as she takes him deeper, more erotic than any he's ever seen. He can't help but wonder if she's really trying to escape, or if this is just another part of her game, a new level of manipulation.

With a growl of his own, he stands abruptly, pulling her to her feet. He pulls the tablecloth from the table, sending the remnants of their meal crashing to the floor. The sound echoes through the hall, a testament to their building passion. "You want to play?" he said, his voice a low snarl. "Fine, let's play."

Ivy's eyes widen as he grabs her waist and lifts her onto the now-bare table. She gasps as the cool wood presses against her bare skin, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He kisses her, his mouth claiming hers with a ferocity that steals her breath away.

Their kiss is a battle of wills, tongues clashing as hands explore and grasp. Vice's fingers dig into her hips, holding her in place as he grinds against her, her shorts the only barrier to the raw connection they crave.

"You hypnotize me," he murmurs against her lips, his teeth grazing her bottom lip before he captures it in a bruising kiss. His hand slides up her shirt, cupping her breast, feeling the nipple pebble against his palm.

Ivy arches her back, pushing herself into his touch. She knows she's won this round, but the game isn't over yet. "Is that a good or bad thing?" she asks, her voice a soft caress.

Vice's hand slides under her shirt, the fabric bunching up as he pulls it over her head, he breaks the kiss and admires her naked torso, the soft curves and delicate lines covered in tattoos that make him ache to claim her. "I haven’t decided yet." he murmurs, his voice thick with need.