Chapter Eighteen

Ivy

"Men are assholes," London, Anne's sister said as she looked up at me from the floor, playing with her niece.

"London, it's time for Katiya's bath," Anne spoke, walking into the room, handing me an ice-cold lemonade.

Despite her audible sigh, the young woman followed Anne's instructions and tenderly lifted the little girl before making her way out of the room.

I didn't know where else to go after I left the club. Going to my apartment was a no-no; Slash would undoubtedly start his search there. With the homeless encampment also out of the question, I quickly dialed Anne's number for assistance. The sweet woman didn't think twice before inviting me over to her place, and when I arrived, she was waiting on the porch with her arms wide open as I ran into them.

"I'm sorry, Anne," I said, my tone filled with genuine regret while she took a seat next to me on the couch. I muttered under my breath, "I didn't know who else to call."

"I told you before that if you ever wanted to talk, I would listen. So, do you want to tell me what happened?"

"It's a long story."

"It generally is. I've got all night. So, talk."

"I don't know where to start," I whispered, looking at my hands. "I've never had a girlfriend before. I don't know what to do."

"Ivy, there are no rules here. No judgments. I want to be your friend. I would like that very much. Why don't you start with what happened tonight and we go from there?"

Nodding, I started speaking.

As the night progressed, the conversation deepened, and I couldn't help but delve into my personal history, recounting tales of my disgusting childhood and also discussing the details of my so-called relationship with Luc. I didn't know I could talk so much. Throughout the entire experience, Anne listened attentively, shed a few tears, experienced moments of anger, but overall, she showed a great deal of understanding and provided me with a safe space to express myself fully. When I finished, she paused for a moment, took a deep breath, slowly rose from her seat and then proceeded to say, "We need something stronger than lemonade. Want a whiskey?"

"Make mine a double, please."

Watching as she poured the drinks, she began, "I'm familiar with hiding who you are, Ivy. It's difficult to be someone you're not, especially when our nature demands we be who we truly are. However, unlike me, you have the chance to start over. Be who you were meant to be all along. I've worked at the Disturbed clubhouse for almost a year now, and I can tell you those men will see right through you if you're not careful. My advice, just be yourself."

Handing me my drink, I frowned. "What if they don't like the real me?"

"Then that's their problem." Anne smirked. "And as for Gina, she is going to push every button you have, until you stop her. You are going to have to dethrone the bitch. Take her crown and wear that shit proudly."

"Gina, I can handle. It's Luc who scares me."

"Why?" Anne frowned.

I shrugged.

"Ivy, Luc would never do anything to hurt you. It isn't in his nature. That man spent a good portion of his life fighting for this country, in situations that you or I will never understand. He did so without thought for his own safety. He did so honorably."

"Slash told me he was in prison for killing someone."

Anne looked at me and whispered, "Don't always believe what you hear, Ivy."

Sighing, I leaned back and moaned, "I'm just so damn confused."

"With your past, I'm surprised you're not institutionalized. Look, Ivy, I can't imagine how you survived before you came here, but it's a hell of a lot better than the alternate, because here, you have everyone wanting to help you. You just need to let us. Sweetie, it's time to trust someone other than yourself."

"Does that work both ways?"

"What do you mean?"

Looking at the pretty woman, I asked, "Is Anne even your real name?"

Anne sat there for the longest time. I started to worry that I overstepped my welcome when she took a deep breath and muttered, "No. Anne isn't my real name."

"Will you tell me what it is?"

"Aksana Baranov."

"That's a beautiful name, Anne."

"It's a name that will get me killed if the wrong people hear it, so please don't tell anyone, Ivy. I can't move again. Not when I'm so close to graduating nursing school."

Reaching for her hand, I promised, "Your secret is safe with me."

With the first light of dawn peeking through the sky, the cab I was riding in slowed its pace and finally came to a halt, conveniently dropping me off right outside my apartment building. Stepping out onto the street, I was greeted by the sight of the sun just cresting the horizon. When I handed the payment to the driver, I raised my eyes and spotted a stunning matte black Harley Davidson Low Rider positioned conveniently near the entrance of my building.

There was only one brother I knew who rode a bike like that.

Sighing, I entered the building and headed upstairs.

The sight that greeted me when I opened my door was none other than Luc, casually perched on my small couch, his unwavering gaze focused solely on me.

With a sigh, I shut the door, my words lingering in the quiet room. "A little early for a visit, isn't it?"

"Where were you?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but I was with a friend."

"You fuck him?"

That stopped me short.

Really? Did he just seriously ask me that after I saw a club whore walk out of his office, smiling?

This fucker had balls.

I scoffed. "That's rich, considering you had your dick in Gina's mouth a few hours ago."

"Not asking you again, Ivy. Did you fuck him?"

"He was a she, and, no, I didn't fuck her."

"And I didn't stick my dick in Gina. She was in my office, for another matter."

"Doesn't matter," I groaned, walking over to the fridge.

Opening it, I grabbed a bottle of water. Twisting the cap, I leaned against the kitchen counter as Luc leaned forward, hanging his head.

"I'm not good at this shit, Ivy. Never was. I don't know how to do relationships. You want to fuck, I'm your guy. I'll fuck you anyway you want, but I don't know how to do the other stuff."

"You think I'm any good with this shit, either? Hell, Luc, all I know how to do is fuck. That's what my father trained me to do. But I also know I fucking hate that bitch around you. She makes me want to rip her fucking hair out."

He chuckled. "God, we're a fucking pair, aren't we?"

Smirking, I agreed, "Yeah, I guess we are."

Walking over, I took a seat at the other end of the couch, not knowing what to do next.

I'd never been in a situation like this, and from the way he was acting, he was in the same boat. I thought it ironic in a way. Both of us were such demanding powerful presences, yet neither of us could figure out the simplicity of a damn relationship.

"I was five years old when my father introduced me to a man named Oliver. He was a married man with three kids. He would come to the club every Thursday just to spend time with me. He liked to watch me. Every time he came to see me, he brought me a new doll. He would watch me play with the doll while he jacked off. One day, he showed up with a pretty dress instead of a doll. He wanted me to wear the dress. He even brushed my hair and put a pink bow in it. When I asked him where my doll was, he said I was the doll."

"Jesus fuck," Luc muttered, hanging his head.

"That's what I know, Luc. Every childhood memory that I have is distorted, twisted, and disturbed. I don't know how to be normal. I wouldn't know where to begin. So, if you want me to leave, I will."

Reaching for me, Luc pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me tight. Holding me close, he kissed my forehead. "Normal is overrated, babe. We'll figure this out. You're not going anywhere, Ivy. I don't know how we will do this, and I'm sure one or both of us will fuck up many times, but fuck, babe. If you're willing to try, then I am too. Just no more running off, okay?"

"I can agree with that."

"Now you want to tell me why you came to see me?"

Muttering, I whispered, "I'm stuck in a clubhouse full of men. It's… bothersome."

"It's a clubhouse, Ivy. Men are going to come and go all the time."

"That's the problem."

Luc just stared at me, waiting for me to explain.

Sighing, I just let 'er rip. "I'm horny. Like all the fucking time. This new treatment plan of no meds and talking at length is for the birds. I need those meds to reduce the itch."

Smirking, Luc swallowed before saying, "Your sex drive is normalizing."

"I wouldn't say that. Heightened, rising by the hour, getting ready to go nuclear? Then, yes, my sex drive is normalizing. There is nothing fucking normal about thinking about sex every fucking minute of the day, and when I told Logic, he said I should tell you when I need to fuck. It's driving me crazy. It's all I want. I can't concentrate on work. It's making me irritable."

Holding me close, he rose to his feet, with me in his arms and carried me toward my bedroom. "Well, we can't have that, can we?"

Placing me on my feet, he stepped back, crossed his arms over his chest and firmly ordered, "Strip."

"What?" I gasped, taking a step back. "Right now? I haven't showered."

"Think I give a fuck. Strip."

When I didn't move, Luc sighed and reached for his belt.

My eyes widened as he glared at me while he slowly and methodically unbuckled his belt, then slid it from the loops. Folding the leather belt in half, he said, "If I have to ask again, I will whip your ass until you won't be able to sit down for a fucking week. Then I will whip you again for making me wait."

He looked at me with a wicked gleam in his eyes and made a sinister promise of unleashing pure evil if I refused to comply.

I wanted to immerse myself in his darkness, to release a piercing scream, to fight against it, and then, ultimately succumb. The anticipation of pain filled me with excitement as it unfurled inside me, igniting my nerves and enveloping me in a fiery sensation. I craved the sensation of aching muscles and tender bruises as a testament to the intensity of the experience. I yearned for Luc to exploit my vulnerability, force me to surrender to his rawest instincts and engage in wild, uninhibited, savage fucking. I didn't want him to tease me mockingly or spank me playfully. I wanted him to evoke tears, desperation, the aching longing from within me. I craved for him to elicit cries and tears of agony from me, derive pleasure from it, guide me to the brink, and then propel me over it.

Seeing his hard cock pressed against his jeans ratcheted my desire higher. I could feel my arousal seep out of my aching pussy. A surge of wild need empowered me as I kicked my Chucks off. Unbuttoning my jeans, I let them slide down my legs, as I reached for the hem of my shirt, quickly lifting it over my head.

The second I was naked, he barked, "Drop."

"Say something nice."

"Drop. Now."

I smirked, shaking my head. "Nicer."

He frowned. "You want something nice?"

"Yes."

Then, with a spark of mischief in his eyes, he said, "Roses are red. Our souls are cold. Now, get on your knees, and do as you're fucking told."

Smiling, I dropped to my knees.

Looking up at him, I shrugged. "It's the thought that counts, right?"

"No more talking."

"Works for me."

He growled.

I lowered my eyes, and I could sense the smugness in his expression, as he firmly grasped my chin to make me look at him once more.

"I told you I'm not good at the other stuff. But I am good at this. You crave pain, and I enjoy inflicting it. We're a match made in Hell. You want me to punish you, I will, but I need you to talk to me. I need to know your hard limit, Ivy. Everyone has one, and until we find yours, I will call the shots. Understood?"

I nodded.

"Good. Now tell me what you want."

I frowned. He knew how difficult it was for me to vocalize my desires.

He raised an eyebrow, my cheeks heated before I finally stuttered. "I want to you to suffocate me with your cock."

"Is that all?"

I slowly shook my head. "No. I want everything you've got."

His eyes darkened and he grinned wickedly. "Oh, sweetheart. You shouldn't have said that."

Excitement coursed through me.

"Get my cock out and make me cum."

With a quick lick of my lips, I unbuttoned his jeans and discovered he wasn't wearing any underwear, much to my delight. I playfully tugged at his jeans, teasingly sliding them down to his thighs. Looking up at him, I could tell he was growing bored by the way he raised his eyebrows, indicating his waning patience.

Fully aware that this was my one and only shot to hold him at my mercy, I savored the fleeting sense of dominance. Our eyes locked, and I skillfully moved my hand to fondle his balls, while my other hand tenderly stroked his throbbing shaft, my thumb expertly teasing the sensitive head. I gently caressed him, and he responded, growing harder and firmer in my hands. When I kissed the tip, I could taste the slight tanginess of his pre-cum, swirling it around on my tongue. With a smile, I pulled back and ran my tongue over my lips, savoring the taste. His eyes, already dark, seemed to darken even more as, with a voice filled with authority, he gruffly ordered, "Hands behind your back."

I complied, my attention solely on worshiping his cock as I traced my lips and tongue along its length.

I dotted his shaft with a sequence of delicate, damp kisses, then proceeded to glide my tongue along the underside. I wasted no time in wrapping my mouth around his cock, using a firm suction and teasing him with the swirling of my tongue.

I could tell that his patience was wearing thin.

I kept my eyes locked with his and began moving up and down.

Taking a deep breath, I relaxed my throat and took him back as far as I could, when suddenly, I felt his hands on my head, pushing me down further onto his cock. The move caught me off guard and I gagged.

My eyes watered instantly.

With a rough grip on my hair, he forcefully lifted my head, giving me a moment to catch my breath. My breath came in ragged gasps, the sound filling the air as I fought to regain my balance. Another barrier crumbled within me, and I—albeit reluctantly—succumbed to his dominance. With a tight grip on my hair, he forcefully entered my throat, using my mouth to satisfy his desires. Despite the tears streaming down my face and his suffocating hold, I refused to break eye contact with him. His cock throbbed in my mouth, its rhythm matching the rapid beating of my heart, heightening the sensations coursing through my body.

My cunt was clenching uncontrollably.

The desire to touch myself consumed me while I pleasured him, but seeing the pure ecstasy on his face was too mesmerizing to interrupt. I sucked him deep while my tongue traced a swirling pattern along the underside of his shaft in the upward motion, intensifying the suction on the downward stroke. As he hit my gag reflex, I swallowed and let out a hum, feeling a shiver run down my spine at his unapologetic domination. His sadistic pleasure was evident as he ensured my suffering, and the undeniable fact that I was nothing more than an object for his pleasure caused me to let out an involuntary moan.

After several minutes, he forced my head down until the head of his cock lodged entirely in my throat. I was choking, and I saw the dark joy in his gaze when he let go, shooting his cum deep, forcing my throat to swallow. When the last spurt left his head, he eased his grip, and I swallowed quickly, regaining a measure of sanity as he stepped back and pulled up his pants.

Frowning, I wiped my thumb across my swollen lips and asked. "Why are you getting dressed?"

"You didn't think this was about you, did you?"

"What?"

"You ran off. Your punishment starts now."

"You can't be serious!"

Threading his leather belt back into the loops, he smirked. "Never been more serious in my life. Get dressed. I have somewhere I need to be."

I just stared at the man in shock.