INFERNO 18+

CHAPTER 10

The front door clicked behind him, echoing faintly through the townhouse. Ivy’s heart skipped, half hoping he would glance back at her, half dreading the indifference she expected.

“Gabriel!” she called, her voice sharper than she intended.

He didn’t look at her. He strode past her, long strides, like she wasn’t even there, and headed straight for his office.

“I’m talking to you!” Ivy demanded, following quickly, her robe clinging to her curves with each step. Her chest rose and fell, frustrated and furious at his deliberate ignoring.

His hand hovered briefly on the office door handle before he turned the knob and entered without a word. The door clicked shut behind him.

Ivy hesitated, her fingers brushing the polished wood, but her resolve didn’t falter. She twisted the knob. “Gabriel, I’m talking to you,” she repeated, louder this time, voice trembling with a mixture of irritation and desire.

Gabriel didn’t answer. He removed his jacket, draped it neatly over the chair, and sank into the black leather of his office chair, his gaze fixed on the papers in front of him.

Ivy stepped closer, folding her arms across her chest. “Are you ignoring me? Seriously?”

He glanced up briefly, expression unreadable, then returned to the paperwork as though she weren’t even there.

Ivy bit back a retort and took another step, leaning lightly against the edge of the desk. “You know, this is really childish. I deserve at least a word.”

Gabriel exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose before setting his gaze forward. Inwardly, he wrestled with a storm he wasn’t ready to admit.

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Gabriel

God, she was infuriating. That voice, that defiance—it should have been a warning sign, a reason to stop. She was young, inexperienced, vulnerable in ways he had no right to acknowledge. Yet every inch of him remembered the feel of her beneath him last night, the taste, the softness, the way she had surrendered even for a moment. One taste should have been enough—should have satisfied him—but it wasn’t. Not even close.

He forced himself to stare at the paperwork, pretending the numbers, contracts, and shipments mattered more than the memory of her lips, the curve of her hips, the heat in her gaze. One taste, and he was already craving more. One night, one stolen encounter, and suddenly, restraint felt impossible.

He had to stop it. He had to. This attraction wasn’t part of the plan—she was a complication, a distraction that could undo everything he had worked for. And yet, the thought of her walking out of that house, leaving him with nothing but memory, sent a low, dangerous ache through his chest.

He looked up, catching her in the doorway again. She hadn’t left. She was still watching him, waiting. That patience, that calm daring, made him clench his fists. God, she was provoking him without even trying.

He had to remember: he was the one in control. He had to remind himself why this couldn’t go further, why he needed to keep the boundaries clear. Because if he didn’t… he’d lose himself completely.

Yet even as he reminded himself, a part of him—a deep, primal part—wanted to pull her into his arms, claim her, mark her as his. One taste had awakened something in him he hadn’t felt in years, and it scared him. He needed to stop it before it grew into obsession, before it became dangerous.

Gabriel closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe, to separate the memory from reality. She was Ivy Blackwood—dangerous, clever, and untouchable in ways he shouldn’t care about. And yet, every fiber of his being screamed to cross every line, to give in to what he wanted. He wasn’t allowed to.

Not yet.

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Ivy stepped closer, crossing the threshold of his personal space despite the warning in his posture. “Gabriel… I need you to answer me,” she said softly, but her eyes burned with challenge.

He opened one eye, finally, just enough to see her clearly. She was tempting, infuriating, defiant. “I’m busy,” he said flatly, though even as he said it, the words sounded weak.

“I’m not asking for your work,” she whispered, stepping closer. “I’m asking for… for you.”

The simple admission hit him like a lightning strike. He could feel heat spreading from his chest down to his d**k. One taste, and he had been caught off guard; one glance, and she was claiming pieces of him he had sworn he’d never give away.

He forced himself to look away, studying the stack of documents, the cold lines of his office. One taste wouldn’t be enough, he realized. One night had changed nothing—if anything, it had made things worse. She had already burrowed under his skin, and he hated the fact that he couldn’t pry her out.

“Ivy…” he started, but stopped. Words failed him. He wanted to tell her to leave, to give him space, to save him from the chaos she brought, but instead he sat in silence, the battle inside him raging.

She was dangerous—not because of who she was, but because of what she made him feel. Desire. Possession. A need for control he couldn’t reconcile with reason. One taste had been a mistake, a glimpse he couldn’t forget. He had to stop it now, before it became an obsession he couldn’t contain.

He leaned back in his chair, rigid, commanding, keeping his distance. His eyes flicked to her, warning and caution mingling with the lingering echo of last night. “One taste is all you get,” he said finally, voice low and steady. “One taste. Don’t mistake it for more than it is. Don’t make me lose control.”

Ivy’s lips curved in a slight, knowing smirk, but she didn’t reply. She stepped back, understanding the warning, though the fire in her eyes didn’t dim.

Gabriel exhaled, his hands tightening on the desk. He had to regain control. He had to focus. One taste had reminded him of something he hadn’t allowed himself in years: he couldn’t be half-hearted with her, couldn’t let desire dictate his actions. Because once he let it, there would be no stopping—not for him, not for her, and not for anyone who got in his way.

And deep down, he knew… he wanted her more than he should. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking of bending her over his desk and claiming every inch of her body he knew he shouldn’t be thinking of filling her with his milk to the brim. F*ck the worst mistake he made was thinking one taste of her would be enough and whatever it is he thinks is going on between them needs to stop.