The intensity of her gaze feels like a violation, so I spin her in my arms, making her gasp. One arm hooks around her waist and bends her over the wooden altar while the other comes to rest on the delicate lace covering her back. The veil is obscuring all that I want to see, so I rip it off and discard it onto the floor. She falls into complete stillness as I trace over the black satin buttons adorning the curve of her spine, pausing to appreciate the beauty of her form cinched up so elegantly in this dress.

“You should know if I give you something, I expect you to wear it,” I tell her roughly.

“I couldn’t,” she whispers.

My hand falls away from her back, and I gather up handfuls of the fabric skimming over the wooden floor. When I tug it up to reveal her bare thighs, her body goes rigid beneath me.

“What are you doing?” She peeks over her shoulder, daring a glance at my face.

“Punishing you.”

The moment the words leave my lips, she tries to jerk away, but I press her down firmly with my palm in the center of her back. Her face is mere inches from the heat of the candles, her chest heaving as she glances around for an invisible savior. There are none to be found for her here.

I shove the fabric up around her waist, revealing the perfect curves of her hips and ass on display in a tiny scrap of black lace. My eyes roam over the untouched landscape of her body, and I stifle the agony building in my throat, forcing myself to remember why we are here.

I reach for a candle, and Ivy’s breathing escalates as she tries to crane her head back.

“Santiago.”

The plea in her voice rips through me with surprising efficacy. My fingers are wrapped around the candle, frozen. I blink at her, stunned by my reaction, and then shake it away.

Dragging the glass across the wood, I savor the way her body trembles beneath my palm. When I am satisfied that I have sufficiently drawn out the anticipation, I slip my fingers beneath the delicate band of her panties and tear it into two pieces. Repeating the process on the other side, I let the scrap of fabric fall to the floor until she is bare for me.

My palm curves over her ass, and I silently shudder as my fingers knead into the warmth of her flesh. I could take her now, but it wouldn’t be enough. I need so much time for the things I want to do with her.