Page 44

Vice's eyes searched hers, a war waging within him that she could almost see. "Ivy," he said, his voice tight.

"What?" she snapped, pushing herself into a sitting position, the blankets pooling around her waist.

"This is what you want Vice," she spits at him tears in her eyes. She pulled her dress over her head angry. Leaving her in nothing but panties. "Then take it."

Vice's eyes widened, his jaw clenched. "Ivy, no." He took a step towards her, but she slapped his hand away.

"What, not like this?" she asked, the bitterness in her voice like a knife to his soul. "This is what you want, isn't it? A powerless, desperate woman begging for you're affection?"

Vice's eyes searched hers, the tumult of emotions within him threatening to spill over.

He had never felt so torn in his life. On one hand, the monster inside him roared to claim her, to make her his in every way possible.

But on the other hand, the man, the part of him that had been buried for so long, was screaming to take care of her, to love her, to protect her from the very thing she feared most: himself.

He took a deep breath, his hand shaking as he reached out to touch her again. This time, she didn't push him away. He gently traced the line of her cheek with his thumb, wiping away a stray tear. "Ivy," he said, his voice hoarse. "This isn't what I want."

Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of deceit. "Then tell me what you do want," she said, her voice barely audible. "Because I can't do this dance anymore."

Vice's hand trembled as he brushed the hair out of her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek. "I," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion."

"You what?" she demanded, the anger in her eyes not diminishing. "You what, Vice?"

"Ivy, please," he begged, his voice thick with emotion. "Let me explain."

Ivy threw her hands up in frustration, her legs carrying her towards the door. "I don't need you're explanations," she spat. "You won't even show me you're face. How am I supposed to believe anything you say?"

Vice's hand shot out, grabbing her arm and spinning her around. His eyes searched hers, the pain in them clear. "Ivy," he said, his voice a low growl. "Please. Just listen."

She wrenched her arm free, the fire in her eyes not dimming. "What's there to say?" she demanded. "You've made it clear that I'm just a plaything in you're game, a means to an end."

Vice's grip tightened, his jaw clenched. "You're not just a plaything, Ivy," he said, his voice low and intense. "You're so much more than that."

The fire in Ivy's eyes flickered, and she took a step back. "Bullshit," she whispered, the word a knife that cut through the tension in the air.

Vice's expression grew stormy, his eyes flashing with irritation. "Ivy, you have to understand," he said, his voice tight. "This isn't easy for me."

Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of sincerity in the depths of those dark pools.

But all she found was a wall of steel, a man who had been shaped by a lifetime of pain and loss.

"Understand what?" she asked, her voice brittle.

"That you're a monster who takes pleasure in playing with my heart so you can break me? "

Vice flinched as if she had struck him, his eyes darkening. "Ivy," he said, his voice a plea. "That's not what this is."

"Then tell me," She challenged, her voice shaking with emotion. "What is it, Vice? Tell me what you feel."

For a long moment, he said nothing, his eyes searching hers. Then, with a sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul, he spoke. "Ivy, I... I can't."

Ivy's heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces, the hope within her dying a slow, painful death.

"Take it off," she repeated, her voice a hoarse whisper. "Take off the mask and show me the man behind it."

Vice's eyes searched hers, a war raging within him. The mask had become a symbol of his power, a barrier that protected him from the world and from the vulnerability that came with showing his true face. "No," he growled.

"I have nothing left to say to you, get out." Ivy said frustrated and hurt.

Vice's eyes searched hers, the turmoil in them deepening. "Ivy," he began, his voice a low warning.

"Take it off," she demanded again, her voice rising in volume. "Take off the fucking mask and tell me the truth."

Vice's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. "You wouldn't understand," he said through gritted teeth.

The words were like a slap in the face, and before he could react, she had done just that. Her hand connected with his cheek, the sound echoing through the room. He slowly turned his face back to her. He stared at her for a moment, shocked, before his own anger boiled over.

With a growl, Vice grabbed her by the arms, his grip like steel bands. "You have no idea what you're asking for," he snarled.

She struggled against his hold, her nails digging into his skin as she tried to push him away. "Get off me," she spat, her eyes flashing with fury.

Vice's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on her wrists as he pinned her to the bed. "You wanted the truth?" he snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "Fine. Here it is."

Without another word, he leaned down, his mouth moving to her neck.

His tongue traced a hot path along her skin, his teeth grazing the tender flesh just hard enough to elicit a gasp from her.

Ivy felt a thrill of fear mingled with something else, something that made her stomach clench and her breath catch in her throat.

"This is what you're here for," with a snarl that was part anger, part frustration, and part something else entirely, Vice continued to pin Ivy's arms above her head, his eyes never leaving hers. The air in the room grew thick with tension, and she could feel the heat of his breath on her neck.

Her body was a battleground of emotions.

Fear and anger warred with the undeniable attraction that had been simmering between them for weeks.

Her chest heaved with each ragged breath, her heart racing like a caged animal's.

"Is this what you want?" she spat, trying to push him away. "To take me by force?"

Vice's expression was a tempest of emotions, his eyes darkening to a shade of midnight. "You're mine," he roared, the sound echoing off the stone walls, sending a shiver down her spine. "I'll do with you as I see fit."

Ivy's eyes widened, the gravity of his words hitting her like a ton of bricks. This was the monster she had feared all along. But even as she struggled against him, her body betrayed her. Her heart was racing, not just from fear, but from something else. Something that felt eerily like desire.

With a snarl, Vice leaned down, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh of her neck.

Ivy gasped, the pain mingling with a strange sort of pleasure that had her body arching towards him.

His grip tightened on her wrists, holding her in place as his mouth moved along her throat, his teeth nipping and suckling at her skin.

Her eyes squeezed shut, she could feel the heat of his body pressing into hers, the weight of his desire for her. It was terrifying, exhilarating, and utterly overwhelming. "Vice," she moaned, her voice a mix of fear and need.

He responded by deepening the kiss, his teeth grazing her neck, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She felt his hand slide down her body, his touch burning through the thin fabric of her panties. Despite herself, she moaned again, her hips rising to meet his touch.

"You're so fucking wet for me," he whispered, his voice a low growl. "You want this, Ivy. This is what you want, you want me to claim you."

Ivy's eyes snapped open, the fire in them dimming just a bit as she stared up at him. "No," she whimpered, the word sounding more like a plea than a protest.

Vice's mouth was at her ear now, whispering hot, filthy words that sent shivers down her spine. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his breath tickling her skin. "So perfect. And all of you, every inch, belongs to me."

Ivy's body was on fire, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she fought the wave of pleasure that threatened to drown her. She hated herself for it, for the way her body responded to his touch, his words. "Stop," she whimpered, the protest barely audible.

Ivy's eyes widened in horror, the reality of the situation crashing over her like a tidal wave. She tried to struggle, to push him away, but her body seemed to have a mind of its own. "No," she whispered, her voice a mix of fear and unwanted desire. "Please, stop."

"You're just a whore," he murmured, his hand sliding between her legs, his fingers pushing aside the fabric of her panties. "A desperate little whore who wants to be used."

Vice didn't stop. He continued his relentless assault on her senses, his mouth moving from her neck to her ear, whispering filthy, degrading things that made her stomach twist with disgust and her core clench with need.

His words painted a picture of her as a whore begging for his touch, and she hated herself for the way her body responded.

"Vice," she gasped, trying to push him away. "Please, don't."

But he didn't stop. Vice's voice grew more depraved with every passing second, his words a whip that lashed at her soul. "You want this," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "You love when I fuck you like the little whore you are."

Ivy felt the tears stream down her face, the humiliation of her own body's betrayal a living, breathing thing that coiled around her heart. "No," she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Say it," he demanded, his voice a harsh command that seemed to echo through the room. His fingers moved inside her, the sensation both terrifying and exhilarating.

"I hate you," she whispered, the words torn from her very soul. But even as she said them, she knew they weren't true. The way her body responded to him was a betrayal, a traitorous act that she couldn't control.