All Chapters of His Forbidden Claim: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Ivy’s POVBrunch with Jessica was never meant to be innocent.It was meant to be messy, loud, probably involve one of us saying something completely inappropriate in front of children, and 100% end in some scandalous detail being yelled across the table.And today? It delivers.Jessica’s already two mimosas in by the time I slide into the booth at our favorite rooftop spot, wearing a pale yellow sundress and oversized sunglasses to hide the “I just got wrecked by a Greek god” look on my face.“You look suspiciously radiant,” she says, sipping with a raised brow. “Like you’ve been laid by Zeus himself. Did he make you see stars? Did he—oh my God, he did, didn’t he?!”I chuckle, hiding my smile behind my menu. “Can we eat before you start demanding positions and play-by-plays?”“Nope. Tell me everything. Did he tie you up? Did you cry? Did he growl and call you his dirty little girl?”I nearly choke on my water. “Jess—”“I need this, Ivy. My vibrator broke last week. My sex life is dead

Ivy’s POVI’m still panting when he pulls me off the bed, his eyes burning into me like I’m his fucking obsession.“Get on top,” he commands, his tone dark and rough. “You wanted to play, so now you’re gonna ride me. You’re gonna feel every inch of me while you take control, just a little. Understand?”His hands grip my waist, guiding me until I’m straddling him, my thighs trembling slightly as I hover over his cock. God, it’s so hard, still leaking from when he came inside me earlier. The thought of how deep he was, how rough he took me, makes me ache again.“Don’t keep me waiting, Ivy,” he growls, voice low, demanding. “Ride me. Now.”I sink down slowly, shivering as he stretches me wide. He’s so thick, so damn perfect. I can feel the burn of him filling me up, and I can’t stop the gasp that leaves my mouth when he bottoms out, his hands still gripping my hips.“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, watching me as I start to move.I roll my hips, slow at first, feeling every inch of him s

Ivy’s POVAnother knock. “Open the door, Ivy.”“I will when I check,” I say.Silence again.The timer buzzes on my phone.This is it.I step forward like I’m walking toward an execution chair.Look down.One line.My knees go weak.Negative.“Oh, thank God,” I whisper.Jess yells, “YOU’RE NOT PREGNANT?”“No.”“You sure? You double-checked? You stared at it under the light like a crazy bitch?”“I’m sure.”“You better still let me throw you a fake baby shower. We already ordered dick-shaped cupcakes.”I laugh, actually laugh, like I haven’t just aged five years in three minutes.Then the doorknob turns.I shriek. “Jesus, Alexander!”He storms in like he owns oxygen. “You didn’t lock it.”“I didn’t think you’d barge in!”His eyes rake over me, landing on the test on the counter.“One line?” he asks, voice hoarse.I nod. “Negative.”His whole body drops tension like a damn weight.And then, he walks to me, cups my face, and presses his forehead to mine.“I didn’t know if I wanted it to be

Ivy's POV He stops in front of me, so close I can smell him, cologne and danger and heat. His gaze burns straight through me.“I’m not a monster,” he growls. “I’m just not the fairytale you built in your head.”“You kill people,” I whisper, voice cracking. “You stalk them. Study them. And then end them.”“You think I liked it?” His voice sharpens. “You think I woke up one day and decided, ‘hey, I’d love to become a fucking ghost in the night’? I did what I had to do. I survived.”“And what about me?” I ask, hands trembling at my sides. “Where do I fit in? Am I just some dumb girl you’re playing with until your next job?”That gets him. His nostrils flare. His eyes darken to something primal.He grabs my wrist, firm, not hurting, but possessive, and yanks me closer. I stumble into him, chest to chest, heart slamming against his.“You really think I’d risk all this shit just to play with you?” he growls against my ear, breath hot. “You think I’d bring you into my house, my bed, my fuck

Ivy’s POVThe morning sun filters in through the tall windows, warming the silk sheets tangled around my body. My limbs ache in that satisfying, delicious way, a reminder of everything Alexander did to me last night. My thighs are sore, my lips still swollen from his kisses, and my neck… marked.I drag myself out of bed, my skin still humming, my mind spinning between rebellion and desire. He’s nowhere in the room, which gives me a rare moment to breathe, to think.When I reach the grand entrance hallway, a crisp white envelope sits on the side table by the door, standing out like a dare. It’s thick, expensive paper with gold calligraphy. No name on the front, just my address, handwritten in familiar, loopy script.I already know who it’s from before I even rip the seal.Claire.Claire fucking Maynard.We were inseparable back in high school , sneaking out of classes, dancing barefoot at 2 a.m., crying into wine bottles over douchebags who didn’t deserve our mascara. Then life happen