45
IVAN
I was in her room listening to the shower run. I planned to walk away. It was late and being there after everything that happened tonight was a mistake.
Then she said my name.
No—Cora moaned my name like a fucking siren call.
Now, I’m coiled around her, her breath on my neck and her wet skin sliding against mine. She’s begging me.
Fuck me. Please.
I will. Of course I will. I don’t have a choice.
But first…
I want to watch her fall apart.
I work the wand against her, buzzing the absurdly expensive machine over the bundle of nerves between her gorgeous thighs. I bought her the toys to use, but when I walked in the bathroom and saw it in her hand as she moaned my name, I’ve never wanted to snap a device in half more in my life.
It should have been me.
“Is this what you want?” I growl.
Cora wraps her arm up and around my neck, hanging from me as she writhes against the pressure. “It’s good enough.”
I bite her earlobe and tug until she bends back, her throat exposed. “You deserve more than ‘good enough,’ Cora. Is this what you want?”
She’s panting now. Her body is twitching, fracturing apart bit by bit. I’m so hard it hurts. The friction of her thighs isn’t helping me focus.
“Ivan,” she gasps. Her throat bobs as she swallows another moan. “I’m—I’m coming.”
Then, before I can even give her permission, that’s exactly what she does.
I feel her stomach tense under my hand. She trembles with the release, sucking down lungfuls of air. Tiny splutters pass her lips and she jerks and spasms in my arms.
It’s fucking beautiful.
But it isn’t enough.
Not for her. Certainly not for me.
She’s still coming down when I throw the wand on the shower floor and spin Cora against the glass. Her eyes are wide and searching as I band a gentle hand around her throat.
“Tell me you’re satisfied. Tell me that was enough for you.”
Tell me you don’t want this so I can walk away.
Water clings to her lashes and streams between her breasts. She’s flushed and breathless from two orgasms. It should be enough. If not, the fact I’m covered in another man’s blood should be reason aplenty for her to walk away.
And if she won’t, I should. I can’t have her. I can’t want her.
But fuck me, she is the only thing I want. Everything else can burn to ashes. I want her.
Her hand reaches out, stroking lightly over my abs. “Ivan…”
Whatever scrap of control I had left cracks apart at the quiver in her voice.
I grip her thigh with crushing force and wrap her leg around my hip. Cora should be screaming for help, but instead, she tugs down the waistband of my briefs.
“It wasn’t enough for me,” she breathes. “I want…”
She doesn’t finish the thought before I slam into her.
“Fuck.” I brush my thumb over her pounding pulse and push her head back. I pin her to the cold glass wall with my hand and my cock and my body.
Then I pull out and crash into her again.
Each retraction is an opportunity to leave. To end this. To sever whatever connection exists between us.
But the pull is too fucking strong.
Cora claws at me. Her nails scrape at the bits of dried blood on my arms as she drags me closer to her, rising to meet every thrust with the same desperation I feel burning in my bones.
“Take me.” She wraps her arms around my neck and lifts her other leg to hook around my back. “Take me, Ivan. Like this.”
I watch her body fall onto mine. The way she tenses with every thrust. Her lips are parted, and she draws close. Closer. Close enough that I feel her breath on my face and smell her toothpaste.
She’s going to kiss me again, and I know it will unleash whatever is lurking under my skin for her.
Just as her eyes flutter closed, I slide out of her and pull away.
Her feet slap against the shower floor. “What are you—”
“Turn around.” I spin her and claw at her hips. Red marks map all the places where I’ve touched her, like living tattoos.
She presses her palms to the tile at the very moment I fill her from behind. A long moan works free from her throat.
I press the heel of my hand hard to her lower back, bowing her in front of me. Taking exactly what I want.
This isn’t about her. This is about me.
I lie to myself again and again, thrusting into her as if it has nothing to do with who she is to me.
“Don’t stop,” she begs. “Keep going. Like that.”
I hook a hand around her throat and haul her body up. Her shoulder blades crash into my chest, but she’s still trembling against my body. She’s still straining for the exact right angle.
“Yes, yes, yes.” She punctuates each slap of our bodies with a cry of pleasure that electrifies me. Finally, she gasps. “I’m coming. I’m—”
Her body tightens like a vice around me and, when that happens, I don’t stand a fucking chance.
I spill into her. The leash on my self-control is gone, missing, destroyed—if it ever even existed in the first place. I grip the base of her throat, bite her shoulder, palm her breasts. I explore every remaining inch of her body, milking every possible second of this moment for all its worth.
Cora just rests the back of her head on my shoulder and hooks her hand around my neck as I explode.
Finally, reality comes swimming back to the forefront and I can inhale again. She looses a breathy laugh. “Oh my God… That was… Ivan, that was…”
She can’t finish the sentence. She doesn’t need to.
I know what it was.
I also know exactly how dangerous it’s becoming.