Page 39

When it was over, she tried to climb off him.

He held her against his chest firmly. She laid her head on his chest, panting, their bodies slick with sweat.

For a moment, it was as if the roles had reversed, and she was the one in control.

But the reality of their situation came crashing back down, and Ivy knew that she couldn't let herself get lost in this man's arms. She had to keep her wits about her.

But as her own eyes drifted closed, the warmth of his chest and the weight of his embrace weren't enough to keep the horrors of her past at bay.

Her dreams plunged her into the cold, unforgiving memories of her first childhood home.

She was five again, her mother's nails digging into her skin like talons, her voice full of rage, as her face twisted into a snarl.

Dragging her through the house and up the stairs towards the attic door.

"I wish you had never been born!" her mother screamed, her face a twisted mask of hatred.

"You ruined my life, you little bitch!" The words echoed in her mind, each word a dagger to Ivy's tiny heart.

"Please mommy, I love you. Please don't do this.

Mommy, please!" She cries. "Shut up!" her mother snarls.

Mommy, please!" she wailed, her voice high and desperate. "I'm sorry! I won't do it again, mommy please!"

Throwing Ivy inside, slamming it shut, cutting off the light and her mother's furious voice.

The click of the lock sending a horrifying chill down her tiny spine.

The attic was a tomb of darkness, filled only with the sound of her own terrified sobs.

She reached out, her hands feeling the cold, smooth wood of the door, her small body shaking violently with fear.

"Mommy, please!" she wailed, her voice high and desperate.

"I'm sorry! I won't do it again, mommy please!

" She felt the sensation of warm liquid running down her tiny legs pooling into a puddle.

Ivy's eyes remained closed, the nightmare still clinging to her like a damp fog. The cold sweat coated her body. Vice’s strong arms that held her felt like her mother's unforgiving grip, and she struggled against them, her mind still trapped in the hell of her past.

Vice tried to calm her panic, calling her name over and over, his grip tightening as he tried to bring her out of her terror.

She thrashed wildly, her nails digging into his chest, desperate to escape the memories that held her captive.

In the haze of fear, she couldn't distinguish between the man beneath her and the monster from her childhood.

"Ivy! Ivy, it's me, it's just a nightmare!" he said firmly, his voice strained with urgency. It was only when she felt the warmth of his breath against her ear, the beat of his heart beneath her face, that she began to recognize the reality of the present.

Her sobs grew softer as she clung to him, the tremors slowly subsiding.

Vice held her tightly, his own heart racing from the sudden jolt of her fear. He had seen her in moments of anger, of passion, but never like this—broken and terrified. He stroked her back gently, whispering reassurances into the dark. "It's okay, Ivy.

The horror of her nightmare still etched on her face, she took in deep, shaky breaths. And laid her head back down letting him hold her tight. "I'm sorry." she whispered.

Vice said nothing, his hand continuing to rub soothing circles on her back. He had never seen anyone look so scared, not even when he had been in the throes of his own rage. His heart went out to her, and he found himself wanting to take away all her pain, all her fears.

Ivy felt his embrace tighten around her, and she realized that she had never felt so safe, so protected in all her life.

Then as she did in his arms in that moment.

It was a strange feeling, to find solace in the arms of a monster.

But here she was, nestled in the warmth of his embrace, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

As her breathing evened out, she whispered into the darkness, "Thank you." Vice still didn’t respond just continued to hold her.

They lay there, entwined, their hearts beating a strange duet of comfort. It was a moment of peace, a respite from the storm that raged outside and within them.

Her thoughts drifted to Alice. Would she ever hold her again? The weight of her deal with Vice pressed down on her chest, a suffocating reminder of the price she had agreed to pay.

As dawn approached, she gently extricated herself from his arms. He stirred but didn't wake, the lines of tension on his face smoothing out into a semblance of peace.

Ivy took a moment to study what features she could see.

She couldn't help but wonder what he dreamt of—did his nightmares mirror her own?

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?

Would he 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.