contracts, and the noises he makes send a shiver of pleasure down to my toes.
When it’s over, I’m a little glad it didn’t last any longer than it did. I can already tell I’m going to be sore. But the Prince pulls out of me and wraps his arms around me, cradling me into his chest.
“That felt incredible, Ivy,” he breathes.
I nod, and a smile drifts over my lips. It did feel incredible—but not because I had a mind-blowing orgasm. I didn’t come with him inside me, but it doesn’t matter. It feels like we’ve forged a connection that can’t be broken.
We signed that oath on the floor of the bakery that will shape my future.
I’m his, and he’s mine.
Forever.
30
Luca
“Shit. The condom broke.” I pull the latex off my cock and reach for a napkin from the picnic basket. Glancing at Ivy, I arch an eyebrow. “You were too tight.”
Ivy blushes, glancing down between her legs.
“No blood, either,” I note, frowning.
“I broke my hymen riding a bike when I was fourteen,” Ivy says, grinning. “Sorry to disappoint you. I promise you were my first.”
“Nothing you do could ever disappoint me.”
Excitement curls in the pit of my stomach at the thought of being her first. I’ve never taken anyone’s virginity before. Glancing down at Ivy’s body, I let my hands wander up to her stomach.
No one else has touched her like this. No one else has been inside her, or felt her the way I have. It feels special, like we share something that no one can take away from us.
Laying back on the pillows, I stare up at the ceiling of Ivy’s new bakery. I glance over at her, pulling her in to lay on my chest.
“Did you come?” I ask, burying my face in her hair.
“Once,” she says. “When you…did that thing with your mouth.”
I chuckle. “When I ate your pussy?”
“Yeah. That.”
“Not after?”
Ivy shakes her head. “No, but it’s okay. I’m sure it’ll happen. I’m just glad to get the first one out of the way.”
I smile. “What was it like?”
Even without looking at her, I can tell she’s chewing her lip. Ivy takes a deep breath, and then shrugs. “Felt like a big ball of fire was sitting in the pit of my stomach, and all I wanted you to do was be inside me.”
“Similar to how I felt, then,” I sigh, pulling her close.
The next few weeks are pure bliss. When I’m not doing talks with Damon and Dahlia, I’m at Spoonful of Sugar. Ivy stocks the shelves with all the supplies she needs and starts baking as soon as she sets foot inside the kitchen.
“I need to get to know these ovens,” she tells me when I ask why she’s baking so much so far ahead of the Grand Opening in a month’s time.
There’s so much to do that I never would have expected. Packaging, labels, business registration, setting up the accounting systems, planning the menu—Ivy attacks it with enthusiasm I’ve rarely seen before.
George, the pastry chef from the castle, comes to visit one day in the week before the Grand Opening. I had no idea Ivy had made such an impression on him, but he immediately rolls up his sleeves and helps her tweak one of her recipes.
Ivy’s cheeks are rosy, her hair is full of flour, her eyes are bright, and she’s the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.
I usually spend nights at Ivy’s house, when I’m not traveling for the tour. No one misses me at the castle. Beckett leaves to rejoin Theo, Cara, and Dante in Argyle, and I’m free to do as I please.
Namely, spend every waking hour with a black-haired beauty.
The morning of August 1st, the Grand Opening, Ivy rolls over in bed and plants a kiss on my cheek. It’s just over a month since Margot was admitted into rehab, and the past four weeks have been incredible. It’s been peaceful, and joyous—and happy.
Perhaps most surprisingly, I haven’t taken a single painkiller. I’ve been in pain, of course. Sometimes it’s almost unbearable—but I haven’t wanted to numb anything. I know that if I take the drugs, it’ll dull everything that’s going on. The good and the bad.
Ivy tells me my kiss tastes better now that I’m smoking less weed, too. My kiss—and something else she’s been enjoying tasting.
She snuggles into me, smiling. “Today is the day.”
“What time is it?” I groan, opening my eyes just a slit.
“Four-thirty.”
“In the morning?”
Ivy laughs. “Get used to it, buddy. Still happy you set