Chapter 10: Purple Haze

"I KNOW YOU'RE IN HERE, BLAIR, YOU FUCKING PUSSY! COME OUT AND FACE ME, YOU BACKSTABBING CUNT!"

"She's not here," I manage to croak from my pathetic position on the floor, hastily wiping tears from my face with the back of my hand.

Ivy's head snaps toward me like a predator, noticing prey for the first time. Her purple eyes widen, then narrow dangerously as she takes in my crumpled form. For a moment, she seems genuinely surprised to find me there instead of Blair.

"Nick?" she says, her voice suddenly dropping several decibels from her previous screaming. She glances around the trailer again as if Blair might be hiding behind the mini-fridge. "Where is she?"

"Gone," I say, trying to stand up with whatever dignity I can salvage. My legs feel like overcooked pasta. "She left. To prep for the race."

Ivy's breathing is heavy, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath her Zenith team shirt. There's something wild in her eyes that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I've seen Ivy angry before, everyone in the paddock has, but this is different. This is unhinged.

"To prep for the race," Ivy repeats, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. She takes a step toward me, and I instinctively back up until I hit the counter behind me.

The rage emanating from her is almost visible, like heat waves distorting the air. Her fingers clench and unclench at her sides, and a vein pulses in her neck. Then, something shifts in her expression, a terrifying transformation that turns my blood to ice. Her lips curl upward into a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"You know what?" she says, her voice suddenly eerily calm. "This is better. Much better."

Before I can process what's happening, she slams her palm against the door panel. The electronic lock engages with a decisive click, the small light turning red. She doesn't take her eyes off me for a second, that unnerving smile still playing on her lips.

"Look, Ivy…" I start, raising my hands placatingly.

She moves with shocking speed. One moment she's by the door, the next she's tackling me to the floor. My back hits the cold tile with a painful thud, knocking the wind out of me. Before I can catch my breath, she's straddling my chest, her strong hands pinning my wrists above my head.

I buck and twist, trying to throw her off, but it's like trying to move a boulder. The disparity in our strength is humiliating, a stark reminder of the natural order in our world. Her grip tightens painfully around my wrists, and I can feel her thighs clamping around my ribs like a vise.

"Ivy, what the fuck?!" I gasp, still struggling futilely beneath her.

"Get off me!" I shout, but Ivy's weight remains immovable.

Her eyes dart around the trailer wildly until they lock onto something behind me. Without releasing her hold, she stretches one arm out, fingers grasping at what looks like a yoga strap hanging from a hook near the meditation area. The purple cord dangles just within her reach.

"Hold still," she growls, somehow managing to grab the strap while keeping me pinned.

"Ivy, what are you doing?" My voice cracks as she maneuvers my wrists together, binding them with frightening efficiency. She drags me across the floor like I weigh nothing, securing the other end of the strap to the leg of a bolted-down table.

"Shut the fuck up," she snarls, her face inches from mine, breath hot against my cheek. "You think I don't know what's happening? Blair thinks she can fuck with me? Get me penalized? Take my position away?" A harsh laugh escapes her. "I'll just take my anger out on you instead."

Panic surges through me. I fill my lungs and scream, "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

Ivy sits back on her heels, watching me with something between amusement and contempt. "Don't bother. This room is soundproofed for meditation. No one can hear you."

My heart hammers against my ribs as I realize she's right.

Without warning, Ivy grabs the front of my Team Zenith shirt and tears it open with a single violent motion. The cool air hits my exposed chest, raising goosebumps across my skin.

"Ivy, please," I plead, trying to reason with her. "Blair broke up with me. Just now. We're not together anymore."

Her fingers pause where they've been tracing threatening circles around my nipples. For a moment, I think I've gotten through to her. Then she scoffs, pinching one nipple hard enough to make me yelp.

"I'm sure you'd say anything to stop me from making you betray your owner right now." Her eyes narrow. "That's what she is, isn't it? Your owner? Your precious Blair, who keeps you like a pet?"

"No! It's not like that…" The words die in my throat as she slaps me across the face, not hard enough to really hurt, but enough to shock me into silence.

Ivy's hands move to my waistband, her fingers working methodically at the button and zipper. There's something almost tender in the way she slides them down my legs, a jarring contrast to the violence of moments before. She yanks both my pants and underwear off in one fluid motion, flinging them carelessly across the room.

"Ivy, I swear to God," my voice comes out shakier than I intended, "Blair really did just break up with me. We're done. Over."

"Shut the fuck up," Ivy snarls, her eyes flashing with dangerous intensity. "You expect me to believe that? That she just happened to dump you right before I got here?"

I swallow hard, watching helplessly as Ivy's hands move to the front of her purple racing suit. She grabs the zipper at her collar and slowly drags it downward, the metallic sound cutting through the silence like a knife. The suit parts down the center, revealing inch after inch of her perfect skin.

My breath catches in my throat as she shrugs the suit off her shoulders, letting it pool around her waist. She pulls her sports bra over her head and tosses it aside, then pushes the suit down her hips until she steps out of it completely.

Holy shit. Ivy Hunt is standing before me, completely naked, and I can't tear my eyes away.

She's magnificent, all lean muscle and dangerous curves, her body a testament to athletic perfection. The purple highlights in her hair catch the dim light as she stalks toward me, moving with the predatory grace of someone who knows exactly how powerful she is.

"Like what you see?" she purrs, a cruel smile playing on her lips.

I know I should be terrified. This is objectively rape. This is wrong. But as she straddles me again, her bare skin against mine, something shifts inside me. The hurt and rage toward Blair that's been building all morning crystallizes into something dark and reckless.

Blair left me. Blair threw me away like I was nothing.

And here's Ivy, dangerous, unhinged, but undeniably wanting me, even if it's just to hurt Blair.

"You're not saying anything now," Ivy observes, running her fingernails lightly down my chest. "Changed your mind about how loyal you are to your girlfriend?"

I don't correct her. I don't tell her again that Blair isn't my girlfriend anymore. I don't say anything at all. Something about the absurdity of this situation, me, tied up in Blair's meditation trailer while her arch-rival prepares to have her way with me, makes me want to laugh and cry simultaneously.

I'm not from this world, not really. I don't belong in this reverse reality where women like Blair and Ivy dominate everything and everyone around them. Maybe that's why I don't feel afraid of being assaulted by this goddess.

I feel a jolt of electricity as Ivy positions herself over me, her thighs bracketing my hips. Without warning, she drops down, impaling herself on my embarrassingly hard cock. The sensation is overwhelming, she's impossibly tight and already slick with arousal.

"Fuck," I gasp, the word punched out of me by the intensity.

Ivy freezes above me, her expression morphing from predatory to genuinely perplexed. She stares down at where our bodies connect, then back at my face.

"You're rock hard already?" Her voice carries an edge of disbelief. "Nick, I'm literally trying to ruin you right now. I'm raping you. And you're... enjoying it?"

Something reckless and self-destructive rises in me. Blair's rejection, the years of feeling inadequate, it all crystallizes into a moment of pure defiance.

"Go on then, Ivy," I challenge, meeting her gaze. "Ruin me."

Her eyebrows shoot up, and for a split second, I glimpse something unexpected in her expression, not anger, but something closer to competitive irritation, like I've somehow stolen her thunder.

"You're not supposed to..." she begins, but instead of finishing her sentence, she starts moving her hips, slamming down on me with punishing force.

I'm supposed to be terrified in her eyes. I'm supposed to be fighting. Instead, I find myself bucking upward to meet her thrusts, matching her rhythm as embarrassing moans escape my throat.

Ivy's face contorts with confusion as she rides me, her eyes narrowing like I'm a puzzle she can't quite solve. The purple highlights in her hair catch the light as she tosses her head back, her own pleasure clearly building despite her intentions.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she pants, not slowing her pace.

"Just shut the fuck up and bounce on it, bitch," I snap, the words tearing from my throat with a venom that surprises even me.

Ivy's rhythm falters, her eyes widening in genuine shock. Her expression hardens into something terrifying. Her hands shoot forward, wrapping around my throat with frightening precision. Her thumbs press against my windpipe, cutting off my air supply.

"What did you just say to me?" she hisses, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

As the pressure increases and my vision begins to blur at the edges, I feel a perverse thrill shooting through me. My hips buck upward involuntarily, driving deeper into her.

'Joke's on you, I'm into this.'

The corners of my vision darken as oxygen deprivation sets in. My eyes roll back slightly, and a strangled moan escapes my constricted throat. Somehow, being at her complete mercy, feeling her literal grip on my life, is intoxicating.

Ivy's hips work harder now, her pace becoming frantic, almost desperate. She's trying to tame me, to break me, but the harder she chokes, the more intensely I respond. Our eyes lock, and something shifts in her gaze, a flicker of understanding, of recognition.

There's hunger there, raw and honest. Not just the desire to hurt Blair through me, but something more primal. Something we both suddenly acknowledge we want.

The pressure on my throat releases abruptly. I gasp, sweet air flooding my lungs as my vision clears. But before I can fully recover, Ivy's hands are on my face, cupping my cheeks with surprising gentleness.

"You're crazy," she breathes, a hint of admiration in her voice.

Then her mouth crashes against mine, her kiss nothing like Blair's calculated affection. It's chaotic, almost violent, teeth clashing and tongues battling for dominance. She tastes like adrenaline and expensive coffee, with an underlying sweetness I never would have expected from someone so outwardly bitter.

I strain against my restraints, suddenly desperate to touch her, to tangle my fingers in that purple-streaked hair. The yoga strap cuts into my wrists as I pull, the pain only adding to the intoxicating cocktail of sensations overwhelming my system.

Her mouth is an addiction I didn't know I needed, better than anything Blair ever offered.

"Untie me," I gasp against her lips, my voice a desperate plea rather than a command. "Please, Ivy. I want to touch you."

Without breaking our kiss, her fingers work at the knot binding my wrists. I feel the tension release as the purple strap loosens, falling away from my raw skin. The second my hands are free, they find her perfect ass, gripping the firm muscle as I thrust upward with newfound leverage.

She moans into my mouth, her hips grinding down to meet my every thrust. Our tongues dance together in a frantic rhythm that matches our bodies, tasting, exploring, claiming. There's nothing gentle about this, it's instinctual, desperate, a collision of need and anger.

My fingers dig into her flesh, guiding her movements as she rides me with increasing urgency. Her inner walls clench around me, impossibly tight and getting tighter. Suddenly, she breaks our kiss with a gasp, her back arching dramatically. Her entire body starts to tremble, powerful muscles contracting around me as she convulses in pleasure.

"Oh my god," she cries out, collapsing against my chest, her arms wrapping around me with surprising strength. Her face buries in my neck as aftershocks ripple through her. "Holy fuck, Nick," she whispers, her voice stripped of its usual hardness, replaced by something raw and genuine.

Her climax triggers something primal in me. I grip her hips and drive upward with renewed intensity, my body taking control as rational thought evaporates. Each thrust sends electric shocks of pleasure racing up my spine as her still-pulsing walls grip me like a vice.

"Fuck, Ivy…I can't hold back…" The pressure builds at the base of my spine, a dam about to burst.

She captures my mouth again, swallowing my groans as I explode inside her. Wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes through me as I pour everything into her trembling body. My hips keep pumping instinctively, prolonging the sensation as her tongue tangles with mine.

The kiss deepens as we ride out our shared ecstasy together, her fingers threading through my hair while my hands slide up her sweat-slicked back. There's something strangely intimate about this moment, this afterglow with a woman who minutes ago was my enemy.

When our lips finally part, we're both gasping for air. Ivy rests her forehead against mine, her purple eyes searching my face with something that looks almost like wonder.

"That was..." she breathes, trailing off as if words have failed her.

"Yeah," I agree, equally eloquent in my post-orgasmic haze.

She shifts slightly, and I slip out of her. The loss of connection feels jarring somehow. Ivy rolls off me onto the cool tile floor, lying beside me with one arm thrown across her eyes. Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she catches her breath.

For a moment, we lie there in silence, the reality of what just happened slowly seeping back into my consciousness. The trailer's dim lighting casts strange shadows across Ivy's naked form, highlighting the rise and fall of her chest as her breathing steadies.

Suddenly, Ivy's eyes snap open. She glances at the digital clock on the wall, and her expression transforms instantly. The vulnerability that had briefly surfaced vanishes behind her usual mask of cold calculation.

"Shit," she mutters, sitting up abruptly.

Without another word, she rises to her feet and begins collecting her scattered clothing. I watch, still dazed, as she pulls on her sports bra and steps into her racing suit. As she puts her legs in, I see a little bit of me trailing down her leg. Her movements are precise, almost mechanical, as she zips up the purple uniform.

She glances around the trailer, spots my pants in the corner, and snatches them up. With a flick of her wrist, she tosses them at my face. They land with a soft thud across my chest.

"Here," she says, grabbing a Zenith team jacket from a hook near the door and throwing that at me too. "Cover yourself up."

I sit up slowly, wincing at the soreness in my wrists from the restraints. As I reach for my pants, Ivy pauses at the door, her hand hovering over the electronic lock.

"Sorry I tried to rape you," she says, her voice oddly flat, almost casual. Then, without waiting for a response, she's gone. The door clicking behind her.

"What the fuck even was that?"