Page 7 of Candy Cane Chains
"Good." His thumb brushes the sensitive spot behind my ear. "Because I have some ideas about that improvisation."
4
JULIAN
The tension between us crackles like a live wire as I stand, extending my hand. Ivy's fingers slide into mine, delicate yet sure. Her amber eyes meet mine, and that same electric current shoots straight through my chest.
"Let's get out of here." My voice comes out rougher than intended.
She nods, gathering her small purse. I toss a hundred on the bar, not bothering to wait for change. The need to get her alone overrides everything else.
My palm finds the small of her back as we weave through the crowded bar. That little Mrs. Claus outfit is soft beneath my touch. She's tiny compared to me, the top of her head barely reaching my shoulder even in those heels that are starting to grow on me. Something primitive stirs in my gut at the size difference.
The cold Chicago wind hits us as we step outside. Ivy shivers, and I draw her closer, shielding her from the bite of winter. Her perfume drifts up, that vanilla scent that is absolutely intoxicating, mixing with the crisp night air.
My Bentley waits out front, black paint gleaming under the streetlights. I guide her to it, my fingers splayed possessively across her back. Each step she takes in those heels makes her hips sway, and I find myself tracking the movement like a predator.
I'm glad I dismissed my driver earlier. Xander will definitely be going home with someone and now I have Ivy all alone. I don't know if her friends even noticed we left, but I don't give a shit about them.
She follows without hesitation, her trust both arousing and unsettling. I've spent years ensuring people fear me, yet this woman walks beside me like I'm not the most dangerous person she's ever met.
I pull open her door and Ivy slides in, that dress sliding up until she's nearly exposed. My jaw clenches as I round the car, forcing myself to move at a measured pace.
The engine purrs to life, and I catch her watching me from the corner of her eye. The interior lights cast shadows across her face, highlighting those high cheekbones and full lips. My grip tightens on the steering wheel.
I've never wanted anyone the way I want her. The realization should worry me, but all I can focus on is getting her somewhere private - somewhere I can have her all to myself.
I let the silence stretch, watching her squirm. The lights from passing buildings paint her skin in alternating shadows. We pull up to my building, the penthouse I have in the city at least, the doorman rushing to open her door before I can round the car. I usually don't let people come here - or anywhere that is my private area.
I have a feeling that Ivy will be breaking a lot of my rules tonight.
I put a hand on her lower back, guiding her through the lobby, watching how she seems nervous but takes direction well.The elevator ride up is silent. Her heels click against the marble floor as we enter my penthouse. The city sprawls below through floor-to-ceiling windows, but her attention is fixed on me.
"Drink?" I move to the bar, selecting a crystal tumbler.
She hesitates, fingers twisting together. Her nerves are showing, and I love it. It gives me more of a chance to tell her what to do. "I-"
The whiskey splashes amber against the glass. I cross to her in three long strides, pressing one palm flat against the wall beside her head. Her breath catches.
"Open."
Her lips part automatically. I tip the glass, watching her throat work as she swallows. A drop escapes, trailing down her chin. Perfect.
I catch her gaze as I bring the glass to my own mouth, drinking from exactly where her lips touched. The whiskey burns, but her wide-eyed stare burns hotter.
The now empty glass clinks against the nearby table as I set it down. She's trapped between my arms now, chest rising and falling rapidly. That pristine Mrs. Claus outfit is wrinkled, her lipstick smeared. Her hair is mussed, strands falling around her face.
She's already such a mess, and I haven't even touched her yet.
The need to break her down further, to reshape her into something entirely mine, claws at my chest. I've never wanted to possess someone like this before. Never wanted to see someone so thoroughly ruined only to build them back up piece by piece.
I dip my head, dragging my mouth up the column of her throat. Her pulse jumps beneath my lips as I inhale that intoxicating vanilla scent. She tilts her head, offering more access, her chest heaving against mine.
But when she moves to kiss me, I freeze. Every muscle in my body locks up out of instinct.
The hurt that flickers across her face makes my cock stir. I like seeing her so affected by me, so eager to do whatever I want. I like seeing her very being, every emotion and desire, tied to me. And I want to see how far that runs.
She immediately shakes her head, dark hair swishing, and tries to twist away. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"