21
IVAN
I slept in an empty bed for years before Cora. It was by choice; I didn’t want anyone in my space, especially when I was asleep. I never trusted anyone enough to let them close while I was so vulnerable. Until her…
Now, though, when I feel her side of the bed dip, when I feel a hand snake around my waist… I welcome it.
I don’t even mind that she woke me up from a damn good dream as her hair whispers over my chest.
In the dream, Cora and I were out on a date. The restaurant was loud, but the world around us was dark and hazy. Indistinct. No one else mattered. I couldn’t see them. Didn’t want to.
There was only her.
She wasn’t sure what to order, but I told her exactly what I wanted. “And what is that?” she asked, a knowing smile teasing the corners of her full mouth.
In answer, I spread her on the table in front of me. I ran my hands up her thighs and dragged the tiniest pair of panties I’ve ever seen down to her ankles.
I devoured her right then and there, not stopping until she’d fallen apart twice and begged me to stop.
“I can’t take anymore,” she panted. “It’s too good.”
When I let her up, she slid off the table into my lap. She wrapped her legs around my waist…
Now, I’m awake. And ready to bring those dreams to life.
“I was dreaming about you,” I murmur into the dark.
Sharp nails drag down my abs, a little too painful to feel good. She breathes out.
“Are you trying to tell me you want it rough tonight, then?” I ask with a smirk.
She answers by pressing her lips to the jut of my hip bone. Her breath is damp against my skin. And her lips feel rough, not nearly as soft and smooth as I’m used to.
I never thought I’d say the dream was better than reality, but…
Suddenly, she cups her hand around my dick, but she moves too quickly. Her hand slaps my balls and the haze of sleep burns up in a second. I jolt up, eyes wide.
“What the fuck, Cor—”
Except the woman kneeling between my legs is not Cora.
All at once, everything feels wrong. The sharp nails, her damp breath, even the way she smells—some deep, musty stench instead of the bright fruitiness I’m used to…
Francia smiles up at me.
“Get the fuck out of my bed!” I roar.
Her eyes widen in panic, but I don’t stop. I can’t. Not until she is out of my bed. Out of my room.
“Out!” I rip the covers off and shove her off of the mattress. “Get off of me. Get the fuck away!”
“Ivan, wait—” She scrambles to get her feet under her, but I keep shoving her towards the door.
She pulled me out of a dream and into a nightmare. If I hadn’t opened my eyes, how long would it have taken me to realize? How long would the she-devil have been in my bed? How far would she have gotten?
Anger burns through me. She isn’t moving fast enough.
Because she isn’t running for her life.
I grab her arm and drag her out of my room and into the hall.
“I’m leaving!” She tries to pull out of my grip. “I’m out of your room, Ivan. Let me go.”
But I don’t. I can’t. I want to drag her straight out of the front door. I want to kick her to the curb in nothing but the clothes on her back. Or, really, the clothes not on her back.
Because she’s wearing a tiny silk slip with lace cutouts on her hips and chest.
“This is just a misunderstanding,” she whines.
Like hell it is. There is no misunderstanding the way she’s dressed. The way she touched me.
I grit my teeth in an effort not to twist her arm out of the goddamn socket. “I fucking told you there would be no touching. No love. No sex.”
As we cross the entryway and move into the opposite wing of the house, I see a few staff members poking their heads out of the shadows. Some guards are taking note of what’s going on between us.
Good. If they wanted to know Francia’s place in this house, this is it. Cowering at my feet like a dog.
When we get to her door, I finally let her go. She drops to her knees and looks up at me beneath lowered lashes.
Even now, she’s trying to seduce me. The games never stop with her.
“I didn’t come into your room to do… that. I came to talk to you.”
“Most people use their mouths for talking. Not their hands.”
“I came to talk to you, but then I saw you.” Her eyes glance down at my crotch. “I wanted to give you some relief. You liked it at first.”
“I assure you I didn’t.”
“Tell that to your dick,” she whispers. “You got hard for me.”
Before the words are even out of her mouth, I snatch her off the floor and pin her to her bedroom door with my forearm barred across her throat. She yelps, but then goes perfectly silent as I crowd into her space.
“That was not for you,” I growl. “It will never be for you.”
She frowns. “If it’s not for your wife, then who is it for?”
I don’t answer the question because we both already know the answer.
Francia’s scowl deepens, but I lean in closer. “If you ever sneak into my room again, I’ll kill you.”
With that vow hanging in the air, I turn and march back to my side of the house.