Chapter 52 Befitting Punishment

Chapter 52 Befitting Punishment
Alexander’s POV

She’s quiet the whole drive home.

Curled up in the passenger seat like a fucking runaway I dragged back from the edge. Her eyes are swollen. Her lips are red. Her hoodie smells like a motel floor and her shame.

And still—

She’s the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.

I grip the wheel hard enough to snap it in two, my jaw tight, my pulse violent.

She really thought she could leave me.

Me.

After everything I’ve given her, after all the ways I’ve loved her, ruined her, fought the world for her, she still packed her shit and ran.

And now she’s looking at me like I might disappear.

Nah. Not tonight.

Tonight, she doesn’t get to run. She doesn’t get to make decisions. She gets to feel.

And I’m going to fucking make sure she never forgets who she belongs to again.

We don’t talk. I don’t need words.

Not when every goddamn cell in my body is screaming to claim her.

I pull into the garage. Kill the engine.

Then I turn to her, slow and deliberate. “Upstairs. Strip. On the bed. Wrists spread.”

Her lips part in surprise, a little breathless sound escaping. “Alexander…”

I arch a brow. “Did I fucking stutter?”

She swallows hard, her thighs pressing together under that pathetic little hoodie.

And then she nods.

“Good girl,” I mutter.

She rushes out of the car and disappears into the house.

I follow behind like death itself. Calm. Deadly. Focused on one thing and that's her.

By the time I step into the bedroom, she’s exactly where I told her to be.

Naked. Freshly showered. Lying on her back.

Wrists stretched out to the headboard, waiting.

I take my time unbuttoning my shirt. My eyes never leave hers. She’s already trembling, her breaths fast, her nipples tight.

“Spread your legs,” I say, voice low and lethal.

She obeys, just like she always fucking does when it matters.

I tie her wrists to the posts with black silk ties. Not tight enough to hurt but just enough to make a point.

“You wanna run?” I whisper, crawling up the bed, dragging my fingers up the inside of her thigh. “You wanna leave me again?”

She shakes her head, eyes wide. “No… I don’t…”

I lean in, mouth against her throat. “You fucking did. And now you pay for that.”

“Alexander…” Her voice cracks.

I slap the inside of her thigh—light, but sharp enough to make her gasp.

“I don’t wanna hear my name tonight,” I growl. “I want screams. I want begging. I want tears if that’s what it takes to knock sense back into you.”

She lets out a broken whimper, her hips rolling toward my touch.

“Please…”

I grip her chin, force her to look at me.

“You’re mine, Ivy. I don’t care what the world says. I don’t care if they burn our names down to ash—I. Don’t. Fucking. Care.”

She’s still tied.

Soft silk wrapping around her wrists, her arms stretched above her head like a goddamn gift. My gift. Her thighs are trembling—open, bare, already slick from everything we’ve done before this. But it’s not enough. I want more. I want her wrecked.

I kneel between her legs, my palms hot as they slide up her thighs, spreading her wider. She gasps, arching off the bed, hips twitching like she’s begging me.

"Patience," I growl, dragging my mouth over her knee, trailing up. "You ran from me, remember? So now you’re mine to play with. Mine to ruin."

Her moan is desperate. Music.

I tease her—just a breath over her soaked slit. Her whole body jerks.

"You’re fucking dripping, Sweetheart," I murmur. "Look at this pussy. Did you miss my mouth? Or was it my cock you were crying for when you ran off?"

"I—I missed everything," she whimpers, eyes glassy. "I just—I was scared."

I look up at her.

"I know, Baby Girl," I say, softer this time. "But you don’t run. You stay. You talk. You scream. You fight. You come. But you stay."

And then I press my mouth to her.

Her cry cuts the air. One long, wild sound that makes my cock twitch against the mattress. I slide my tongue through her folds, slow, savoring, like she’s the sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever tasted. Which she is.

"Fuck, Ivy," I groan. "You taste like sin."

I drag her clit into my mouth, suck it hard and then flick it with my tongue. She loses it, thighs clenching around my head.

But I don’t stop.

I pin her hips down, licking her like a man possessed, like eating her is the only reason I exist.

Her breath hitches. That perfect fucking tremble.

"A-Alexander, I—"

"Come on my tongue," I snarl, licking faster, harder. "Now, Baby Girl."

She shatters.

Legs shaking, back arched, moaning so loud I swear the walls shake with it. I don’t stop until she’s twitching, begging, whimpering from overstimulation.

I crawl up her body, biting her nipples, sucking one into my mouth until she cries out, then biting the other just hard enough to make her gasp.

"You done?" I smirk against her skin.

She blinks, flushed and dazed. "No… please."

"Good," I murmur, lining my cock at her entrance. "Because I’m not fucking done either."

I thrust into her. Hard.

One solid move and I’m buried to the hilt.

We both moan. Loud. Raw.

"Shit, Ivy. You’re so fucking tight. Always so tight for me. Like this pussy remembers who owns it."

She wraps her legs around my waist, nails digging into my back, mouth open, gasping.

"Say it," I growl, pounding into her. "Say who owns this pussy."

"You do," she cries. "You—fuck—Alexander!"

I fuck her hard. Deep. Slow at first, making her feel every inch. Her walls grip me like she never wants to let me go.

I lean down, licking the sweat off her neck, biting her collarbone.

"God, you drive me crazy," I growl. "You make me want to lose control. You make me want to break everything that isn’t us."

"Then break me," she begs. "Fuck—please, just… don’t stop."

I flip her.

Hands still tied, ass in the air, face buried in the pillows.

Perfect.

I slam into her from behind, one hand tangled in her hair, the other on her hip, dragging her back onto my cock like the greedy little slut she is.

"Take it," I snarl. "You wanted to leave me? This is what you missed. This cock. This fucking madness."

She’s sobbing, moaning, pleading. And then she’s coming again, clenching so hard I see stars.

I don’t last long after that. I bury myself deep, growling her name as I come, hard, possessive, shaking with it. I collapse over her, chest heaving, lips pressing into her neck as I untie her wrists.

She turns under me, eyes wet, lips trembling.

"I’m sorry," she whispers.

I kiss her. Slow. Gentle this time. Just lips and love.

"You’re mine, Baby Girl," I breathe against her mouth. "And I’ll always come for you."

She nods, curling into me like I’m home.

And fuck, maybe I am.

I untie her wrists, hold her close, press kisses to every corner of her face until she can barely keep her eyes open.

She curls up in my arms, so fucking small, and I wrap myself around her like armor.

“I love you,” she murmurs, already drifting.

“I know,” I whisper. “Sleep now. I’ve got you.”

She breathes soft against my chest.

And for the first time tonight, I finally fucking breathe too.

To Be Continued...