CHAPTER 218: FOR FUCKS’ SAKE

He willed himself to shrink even just a little bit. But see, that’s the problem when two hearts bond in love. Control goes out the window. The heart cannot be manipulated. It owns us, owns our very souls, even our pleasures. Especially those.

"For fuck’s sake..." he muttered under his breath.

Winn’s muscles flexed as he moved, every line of his body tightening and releasing in perfect rhythm. He picked up speed now, hitting her at an angle that was devastating—one that made Ivy’s breath catch and her eyes widen.

Her hands clawed at his shoulders. Her legs trembled around him, instinctively pulling him deeper, her hips rising to match him in a dance older than time itself.

His grunts became louder, heavier, losing their rhythm as he neared the edge. Her touch became even more frantic, her fingers sweeping up his neck, burying into his hair, dragging down his back.

"Winn!" she cried out.

"I can’t hold it any longer, babe." Winn confessed. He drove wildly into her.

"God, please...I don’t want it to end." Ivy cried.

With the will of a god—or maybe just the sheer stubbornness of a man who loved her too damn much—Winn pulled out of her, breathing heavily.

"I don’t want it to end too, babe. I wish it won’t."

She looked wrecked—beautifully, devastatingly wrecked—hair tousled, lips swollen, chest rising fast.

"We have all night, right?" Ivy asked. Ivy’s eyes searched his carefully.

"Ivy...It’s taking all of my will to keep you away." He wasn’t exaggerating. His forehead pressed against hers, breath shaky. Even in the faint light she could see the tension in his jaw, the tight grip he kept on the sheets as if he was physically restraining himself.

"I know, Winn." Ivy placed her hand over his heart. His heartbeat jumped beneath her palm. "Just give me this one night. Please." She swallowed.

One night. That was the lie they were pretending would protect them. One night changes things, it changes everything—it rewrites futures, anchors souls, destroys the illusion that distance is safety. Winn felt it, Ivy felt it.

He cursed under his breath at the universe that made her his weakness.

He took off her dress the whole way—slowly this time, memorizing each inch of skin. He unclasped her bra. Winn lowered his head, took his time pleasuring her breasts, letting his mouth speak what he couldn’t say out loud.

When he finally slid his cock back inside her, it was surrender, it was fury, it was longing.

He made it long enough for her to have one more orgasm, gripping him desperately before he himself finally shattered inside her with a tremor he tried—failed—to control.

Afterward, they collapsed into each other’s arms, their breaths tangled, their skin slick with sweat, their hearts thundering. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t dare.

They knew that words were dangerous; words built promises, and promises were the very thing they weren’t supposed to make. If they talked, letting go wouldn’t be easy. Moving on would be impossible.

She was curled against him, hair a messy halo across his chest, breathing soft and uneven. He knew he wasn’t done with her—not by a long shot.

And so he took her again and again, in different ways, different positions, pushing them both to the edge of breathlessness, until their bodies felt boneless.

*****

Sometime in the middle of the night, Winn felt Ivy struggling against him. His eyes flew open instantly, instincts kicking in stronger than any alarm. He tightened his arms around her without thinking.

"Hey...hey...hey... I’m here." Ivy jerked again, breath quick, limbs trembling. "Babe! You’re safe. Come on, wake up." He pressed his lips against her temple, grounding her, soothing her with quiet murmurs until she finally opened her eyes—wide, frantic, and wet.

She blinked up at him, chest rising and falling rapidly. When recognition dawned, her body went limp with relief. She was indeed safe in his arms, tethered to him. "Winn..." she whispered, clinging to him.

She curled into him, her heart still beating erratically, each thud a frantic plea against his ribcage. Winn felt every shake of her body, every uneven breath, and it carved him open in ways nothing else ever had. He tucked the blanket around her shoulders.

Her fingers gripped his forearm, nails lightly digging.

"Tell me about it, Ivy. Every single detail.". He stroked his thumb along her spine in slow, consistent passes, coaxing her to open up. She stiffened at first. But then she nodded.

And so she did.

Her voice was small at first as she told him about the moment she left the Orchard mansion. She explained how she’d driven back toward her home in Long Island.

She described the men waiting for her. She repeated their instructions word for word—sharp, cruel phrases that twisted Winn’s stomach. Their threats. Their smirks. Every detail poured out of her.

And then she reached the sleazy motel part. She described how they dragged her inside, how one of the men raped her, stabbed her. Her voice trembled, but she didn’t stop. She told Winn how she didn’t know, not then, that she was pregnant.

Pregnant with Winn’s child.

He didn’t interrupt—he wouldn’t take her voice from her—but his entire body shook with barely contained rage.

She had never explained in detail what happened in that room. Everyone guessed—whispered, speculated, tiptoed around the truth. But no one had known. No one but her.

And since that night, she had never gone a single night without those nightmares—images that clung to her.

"You need to see a therapist, Ivy." Winn finally said. "Someone trained. Someone who can help you carry this so you don’t have to do it alone."

"No." Ivy shook her head. "Not yet. It fuels me."

"To do what?"

"I don’t... I..." she stammered. Winn watched her carefully, his hand rubbing lazy circles on her back.

"You want to make them pay."

"I feel like... like I have to get my power back. I felt helpless, weak. It was a horrible feeling." She inhaled sharply. "I can’t live the rest of my life feeling like someone stole a part of me and I didn’t fight for it."