35
IVAN
From the outside, the shop looks like any other boutique on the street. “Le Plaisir?” Cora frowns at the gilded letters above the door. “We're shopping? I thought Niles bought me everything I'd need."
The thought of Niles walking into this shop is enough to tear a laugh from me. "There are some things that I prefer to handle myself.”
I open the door and usher her inside. The bell above the door chimes our arrival, but Cora doesn't make it more than two steps in before she slams to a stop.
A long table runs down the center of the small space. Mannequins in barely-there lingerie perch on top of it. Underneath them, in lit shelves that ring the shop, are countless sex toys. Every shape, length, kink, color, and voltage imaginable.
I close the door behind me. Cora shrinks back into me, itching for escape. “We made rules, Ivan. We can’t—”
“I said I’d keep my hands to myself. But if you’re going to demand celibacy, you’ll need something to take the edge off.”
The idea came to me fully formed. I didn’t question it. Partially because I want to prove to her now that there is no checkmate with me. I always win. Always.
But a deeper, darker part of me wants to see what Cora will do in a luxury sex shop. The part of me that has always craved a bit too much trouble wants to know what she’ll be drawn to, what she likes.
I know how she looks and sounds when she comes on my cock.
What about when she’s tied spread-eagle on a bed while I tease her with whips and vibrations and soft kisses between her thighs?
Her face quivers. She’s too stubborn to show me what she’s really thinking, but I can guess at the tensions rippling inside of her right now.
They probably look a lot like my own.
Finally, she turns away from me, looking out over the store. “What’s my budget?”
I run my thumbs along the suddenly tense column of her neck. “Do your worst.”
Cora leans back into my touch, rocking against the pressure of my fingertips into her muscles. Then, as if remembering who I am, she jerks away and heads for the nearest display.
A red-headed woman in a dangerously low-cut top appears from the back. She glances at Cora and then turns her attention to me, a wicked smile on her lips. “Hello. Is there anything I can help you with?”
“We’re just looking,” Cora calls over her shoulder. She’s huddled over the shelves like she’s worried the woman might see what she’s buying.
“Of course. Take your time.” The woman takes a step closer to me. “If you see anything you like, be sure to let me know. I’d love to personally assist you. My name is Madison."
The flick of her tongue over her red-painted mouth is hard to misconstrue.
She retreats toward the back. Cora watches her leave with a scowl on her face.
“See anything you like?” I ask. “The associate would love to personally assist you.”
“Madison would love to personally assist you.” She snorts. Cora thinks for a moment, then she waves down the saleswoman. “Excuse me, miss? We’re going to need a basket over here. Maybe two. I have quite the shopping list to get through.”
My wife-to-be gives me a wicked grin that has a powerful effect on everything below my belt.
Cora will never be able to one-up me.
But fuck, the woman fights dirty.
Dildos, vibrators, clitoral stimulators—you name it, Cora grabs it. If I hoped to narrow down her interests in the bedroom, I'm out of luck. Cora unceremoniously dumps her haul into the basket without a word and then goes back for more.
“Are you interested in any lingerie today?” Madison points to a lacy black set on a mannequin in the back corner. She speaks in Cora’s direction, but keeps her eyes on me. “I have this set for myself and I can’t recommend it highly enough. I’ve tested it thoroughly and it has stood up to whatever I’ve put it through.”
I gesture to Cora. “Whatever she wants, she can have.”
“How generous of you,” the woman purrs. “Not all men are so understanding of a woman’s needs.”
I glance over and catch Cora staring daggers at the redhead. Then she snatches up three lingerie sets and practically hurls them at the saleswoman. “Do you have a dressing room?”
"Sorry, we don't. We've had too many incidents." She winks at us both. "Some people can't wait to get home. They find the allure of something new a little too exciting."
Cora's jaw practically grinds her teeth to dust, her tongue running over her teeth when she’s able to relax enough. She's not missing any of Madison's clumsily obvious hints. "How am I supposed to know if these fit me then?"
Madison waves towards the back of the store. "There's a mirror in the back to hold things up to yourself, but we have a generous return policy. Sometimes…" She looks to me, eyebrow arching. "Sometimes, things don't work out and you need to exchange for something new. We understand that and we are happy to accommodate our customer's needs. No matter what they might be."
"Thanks," Cora bites out. She stomps off to the back of the store.
Madison steps closer to say something to me, but I breeze past her without a word and follow Cora.
The back room is a lounge with a leather sofa and a tall mirror in the corner. I can see the reflection of Cora leaning against the corner, her eyes closed. Her full lips are pursed in an exhale.
“You’re not taking this seriously.”
She stiffens at the sound of my voice. One eye opens narrowly. “I’m not taking this seriously? You’re not exactly leaping to help. Or are you too distracted by Miss Obvious over there? Shall I give you two some privacy?”
“There it is again,” I remark.
“There what is again?”
“Jealousy. It’s an interesting look on you. Not as good as” —I glance at the pile in her arms— “sheer pink lingerie, but still interesting.”
I can see her teetering on the edge of an explosion. The wise voice in me says to defuse the situation. What good can come of stoking her fire?
But the voice in me that said, “Follow her into the office”, the voice that started all this shit, now says, “Light the match and watch it all burn.”
Do it, I’m daring her silently. Flash that fire. Stake your claim. Be bold enough to say you want something that’s right there for the taking.
What I’m really asking my fiancée is, What are you made out of?
I already know the answer.
I just need her to see it for herself.
She chews on her cheek as she thinks. Finally, she shakes her head. “This is a sham of a marriage anyway. Why should I care if some woman flirts with you? Why should I care if you take her home and dress her up in lingerie, then take her right back out of it?”
Because I want you to care.
“Because you want your friends to be safe,” I say instead. “Because you want to catch the person who tried to kill you yesterday. That won’t happen if you don’t play your part to perfection. This may be a sham to the two of us, but it’s real to everyone else. We have to make them believe it.”
“I don’t know how.” She presses a hand to her face. “I don’t know how to do this, Ivan. I’m in so far over my head. Two days ago, I was a waitress. Now, I’m…I’m…”
I can’t hold myself back anymore. Seeing her here, in this place, with that confused flush in her cheeks matching the flush on her collarbone…
I want her every bit as badly as I did the night we met.
I stride closer and pin her against the wall. “Mine,” I finish for her in a breathy growl. “You’re fucking mine.”
Her pupils eat away the green of her irises. “What? I can’t. We’re not—”
I press my lips to the curve of her neck just below her ear. “It’s all pretend, Cora. Settle back and enjoy the charade.”
She shivers when I grip her hip. I let my fingers spread out across the swell of her body, claiming as much of her as I possibly can. I hike up her dress and shove those panties roughly aside, then brush my finger through her arousal. She’s already slick for me, dripping.
I want her—no, I need her—to start embracing her position at my side and the power it brings. The best position is whichever one allows me to bury my dick inside her sweet body, but there’s far more to it she hasn’t even begun to tap into.
“You’re mine,” I remind her, rubbing my thumb over her clit. She sucks in another trembling breath and I feel her grind against my hand. She tries to do it subtly, but there’s not a chance in hell I’m missing the way she’s desperate for more. “Stop worrying about other women trying to steal what they can’t have. Show them why it’s you. Show them why you’re mine…and why I’m yours.”
When her eyes meet mine, glazed with lust and need, I plunge two fingers deep inside her.
She arches her back against the wall, pushing her into me even more. Fuck, how could I even begin to notice another woman when she’s already so fucking perfect?
I whisper exactly that to her as I start to rub that sweet spot inside her. She shudders and clutches my arms as I nip her skin and continue to murmur all the reasons why she shouldn’t take bullshit from anyone. Least of all some pathetic, thirsty sex store clerk.
Our bodies are pressed together, my erection hard against her thigh. Cora drags her leg against me and moans my name in a frazzled, strangled rasp. “Ivan…”
Suddenly, a voice breaks through the sexual haze. “How are things going back here? Do you two need any…” Madison’s voice trails off as she enters the room and sees the two of us.
I have no intention of pulling my fingers out of Cora’s slick heat, but she grips my wrist anyway. Her fingers are cold, but her gaze on the saleswoman is suddenly fiery. Whether the woman returns it or not, I have no idea. I’m too distracted by how Cora’s glare looks even better with her flushed skin.
“We’re fine,” she says sweetly. “Thanks, anyway.”
Madison clears her throat. “You can’t do that here. You have to—”
“You have to sit down and shut up.” Cora’s voice is laced with irritation, but it’s the rumble of her fury that makes me so fucking hard. She glares at Madison and, at the same time, rolls her hips to fuck herself on my hand. “And show me some fucking respect instead of eyeing my man like some dick-hungry slut. He’s mine.”
Holy fuck. If she’s not careful, I might actually end up fucking her hard right here, right now.
I’m halfway convinced Cora wouldn’t mind that at all.
The woman behind me practically chokes on her shock. “You can’t—”
“My wife just told you what you're going to do,” I growl. Cora clenches around me. “So sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up.”
An amused smile curves my lips when Madison takes a trembling seat on the edge of the couch. Cora gasps and I don’t know if it’s because of the thrill that throwing authority gives—or if it’s because I’m working my fingers inside her faster and massaging her clit more with my thumb.
She deserves this. She’s a fucking queen waiting to be crowned. She just has to be willing to see it—and accept it.
Her nails dig into my wrist, begging me to keep going. “How did that feel?” I ask, nipping at her ear. “To show her who you belong to?” A whimper works between her bee-stung lips. She clings to me just to stop from crumbling to the floor.
“Good,” she moans. “It felt… It feels so damn good.”
Madison might still be sitting where I ordered her to or she may have run for the hills—I have no idea. Nothing exists beyond this woman and the way she feels in my hands.
I lose myself in her pleasure, driving her to the edge so I can greedily watch her spill.
“Ivan!” she grits out, her body clamping down on my fingers. “I’m—fuck…fuck…Ivan...” She tries to tell me, but I already know. And I bask in the way she shatters in my arms, her lashes fluttering as her toes curl and she bucks herself on my fingers, soaking them with her release.
She floats down, sighing and holding onto my neck for dear life. I keep her there, pinned between the wall and my hips.
The bride I never asked for.
The queen I never saw coming.