King's Wrath (Sydney Storm MC 5)

“I don’t need that. All I need is you, Ivy, however you want to give yourself to me.” I watched her reaction closely, and when she looked at me like she didn’t believe a word I said, I repeated with greater force, “I want you. I will never ask you to let me do that again or anything else you’re not comfortable with. That shit should never have happened.”

“But don’t you see, King? It did happen, because rough sex is such an instinctual thing for you. I don’t care what you try to tell me, you liked it. Why should I expect you to spend the rest of your life with me if I’m not willing or able to do things with you that you like?”

“That doesn’t make any sense. That’s like saying you should be willing to go fishing with me or spend hours working on cars with me simply because I like to do those things.”

She finally stopped rubbing her arms and dropped her hands to her side. “Those are things I could do with you if you really wanted me to,” she said softly. “This isn’t something I could ever do. When you started squeezing my throat the other night, it hurled me right back to the bad parts of my childhood.” Her voice cracked again, and more tears slid down her cheeks. Madly wiping them away, she continued, “I can’t… I can’t go back there again, King. Not ever.” Her last four words were barely audible—“Not even for you.”

Ice slithered down my spine. I wasn’t fucking losing her over this. No way would I allow that. I hated that I’d done this to her, and I would find a way to make things right again. But there wasn’t any way in hell she’d be walking away from this relationship.

Unable to stop myself any longer, I reached for her. Sliding an arm around her waist, I pulled her body to mine. The way she came easily told me I’d done the right thing. “Do you remember the first time we had sex?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

I traced a finger down her cheek. “Remember how you were scared out of your fucking mind? And how I didn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to do?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her gaze glued to mine.

Running my finger across her collarbone, I continued, “Let’s back this shit up and forget last weekend. Let me show you just how right we are together. I haven’t needed anything but what you wanted to give for the last five years, and I sure as fuck don’t need it now. I’m more than fucking happy with what we have, Ivy. You are everything I have ever wanted, and I’m not letting you go.”

Her entire body sighed. I felt it clear as fucking day. It was like she exhaled a breath she’d been holding for a long fucking time. Bringing her hands up to clutch my shirt, she said, “But—”

I pressed a finger to her lips. “No buts. I’m not backing down on this. And I’m also not backing down on us getting married.”

She watched me silently for a beat before slowly nodding. “Okay.”

I then exhaled the breath I’d been holding.

I learnt a hard lesson the next day. One I’d already learnt at the hands of my biological parents. Somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten that lesson. I’d never fucking forget it again.

The worst kind of betrayal comes from those you love.

Ivy’s foster mum, Bethany, and I had always been close. The falling out she’d had with my mum had been challenging for our families, but through it all, she and I had remained solid. Mum had encouraged it; the falling out wasn’t her choice. They’d argued over some seemingly insignificant thing that had then blown up into the kind of argument most relationships struggled to come back from. Mum held out hope, but Bethany had stayed firm—she didn’t want anything to do with her sister again.

After a night of endless sex, Ivy and I left home early that morning to head to work. I had a busy day ahead of me taking care of a few cleaning jobs Jethro had assigned me. He’d been using me for them a lot more lately. “Cleaning up people’s sins and making sure no fucker finds out what they did is something you’re fucking talented at,” he’d said. What he really meant was that I never hesitated to do the dirty shit others didn’t want to do. Some jobs called for a phone call, others, a bullet. I gave no fucks which, I just did it.

I’d kissed Ivy goodbye and said, “Call your mum. Tell her we’ve got news for her tonight.”

She blasted a sexy grin at me. “I could just tell her over the phone. That way we don’t have to leave the house tonight, and you can spend the night between my legs.”

While that option appealed, I wanted to do this shit right. Bethany deserved more than a phone call for this kind of news. I shook my head. “No, we do it together in person. I’ll swing by home after work to pick you up. After we see her, we’ll drop by Mum’s and tell her and the girls.”

“You know,” she murmured before kissing me, “for an asshole, you can be thoughtful.”

I smacked her ass. “I’ll see you tonight.” As I walked towards my bike, I called out, “And Ivy?”

She looked up as she got in her car. “Yeah?”

“Take a nap today if you get a chance. You’re gonna need it.” Because the shit I want to do to you tonight will require some fucking stamina.

She smiled knowingly before pulling out of the driveway. I sat on my bike and watched her drive away. Something had shifted between us last night. She’d opened back up to me and allowed me to peel back another layer of her. The thing with Ivy, though, was that it felt like I still had a thousand layers to get through. She had every piece of me, but I knew I didn’t have all of her. And I fucking wanted every last piece.

I took care of two jobs that morning and was on my way back to the clubhouse when Ivy called. The way she stumbled over her words told me something was very wrong.

“King… shit… I, um, fuck….” Her voice trailed off before I heard crying.

Every instinct I had screamed at me to tread carefully, but I was never good at that. My preference was to invade and interrogate. I was the storm that refused to relent. “What’s going on?” I demanded, my voice harsher than necessary, but fuck, she had me twisted up with unease.

“Don’t yell at me!”