All Chapters of His Forbidden Claim: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Ivy's POV I jolt up in bed like I’ve been yanked out of the deepest pit in hell.Gasping. Sweaty. Shaking like a leaf in a storm.The nightmare’s claws are still raking down my spine, the sound of her voice echoing in my skull—my mother, shrieking in that venom-laced tone only she could master.“You ruined everything.”I press my trembling hands to my face, trying to breathe, but it’s like there’s a boulder sitting on my chest. My heart pounds, thudding like a war drum inside my ribs, each beat louder than the last.I know it’s not real. I know she’s not here. But damn it, it feels real.Like she’s standing at the foot of my bed, judging me. “I’m fine,” I whisper to the darkness, lying straight through my teeth.I throw the covers off and climb out of bed barefoot, my feet hitting the cold floor with a shiver that shoots straight up my spine. The hallway is quiet—too quiet. The silence buzzes in my ears, heavy, suffocating.I don’t even think. I just move.My feet know the path by h

Alexander’s POVHer breath hitches as my hand slips under the waistband of those silk panties. Barely there. A tease. God, it’s like touching nothing but fire and skin. And fuck, she’s already wet. The heat radiates off her, making my pulse skip a beat.I can’t stop staring at her face, those wide eyes that look at me like they’re both terrified and addicted. The little gasp she lets out when my fingers brush against her skin sends a charge through me. I’m already hooked, already drowning.“You’re trembling,” I murmur against her neck, my voice low, dark. It slides over her skin like a promise, one I’m not sure I should make. “That dream still haunting you, or is it me now?”Her hips jerk into my hand like she’s starving for me. My palm fits perfectly against her, and I swear to God, I can feel the pulse of her desire in every inch of her body. She wants it. Needs it.“You know it’s you,” she breathes, her voice barely a whisper, but it hits me like a goddamn hammer.Fuck.Her honesty

Ivy’s POVIt’s past midnight when I slip out of my room like a thief. Barefoot. Braless. Wearing nothing but his damn hoodie and a heartbeat that won’t calm the fuck down.The hallway is dim and silent, but everything inside me is loud. Loud with need. Loud with guilt. Loud with a reckless ache I can’t outrun.I should be sleeping. I should be pretending like I don’t remember the way his voice got all deep and rough when he called me baby girl. Like I didn’t almost beg him to ruin me the last time we were alone.But I can’t. Because every time I close my eyes, I see him. And every time I breathe, I swear I taste him.The office door is cracked. ight spills into the hallway like a dare. And he’s inside.Sitting behind the desk like a goddamn sin. His shirt is half undone, chest slightly exposed, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. That sharp jaw flexing like he's clenching back every filthy thing he wants to say.He doesn’t even glance up.“If you’re here to play games, Ivy…” His voice is

Ivy’s POVThe moment I swing my legs off the bed, I know I’m screwed.My thighs protest. My hips ache. And between my legs?Yeah. Let’s just say gravity is not my friend this morning.“Fuck,” I hiss under my breath, gripping the edge of the bed like I’ve just come back from war.Well. Technically, I did.A war of moans, growls, and multiple orgasms that have left me wrecked in the most delicious way.I shuffle, wobble, my way toward the ensuite, wincing with every step. My legs don’t even feel like mine. My core is sore in the best kind of way, and I swear I can still feel him inside me.The door creaks open and the scent of steam and cedarwood hits me first.He’s already in the bathroom. Shirtless. Leaning against the sink. Towel slung low around his hips. Coffee mug in one hand, toothbrush in the other. Watching me like a wolf watches its favorite chew toy.His lips curve. “You walkin’ funny, baby girl?”“Shut up.”I try to glare, but I’m too busy limping like an injured gazelle. It

Ivy’s POVThe grocery store hums with the low murmur of carts rolling and muffled pop music overhead. The cool air bites at my bare thighs. Alexander didn’t see the need for pants today, and maybe I liked teasing the world just a little. His oversized white shirt brushes mid-thigh, sleeves rolled to my elbows, smelling like his damn cologne and sin.I’m reaching for almond milk when it happens.That voice.“Ivy?”It hits me like a slap. A chill races down my spine, curling around my ribs. My hand pauses mid-air, fingers brushing the cold carton.No. Not today.I turn slowly, heart thudding against my chest like a goddamn war drum.And there he is.Jason.Same cocky smirk. Same disheveled, too-casual look. His cheap cologne floats to me like regret.“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he says, eyeing me like he’s got any fucking right.I arch a brow, give him the smile I save for people I don’t like. “Life’s full of disappointments.”I grab the almond milk and toss it into the cart withou