47
CORA
I don’t realize how tightly I’m gripping the edge of the trash can until Ivan’s hands smooth over mine. Gently, he pries my fingernails away from the wooden lip.
“Are you okay?” he asks, voice low and serious. His right sleeve is dripping water. A droplet carves its way down his bicep and rolls off his elbow. I watch it go in what feels like slow motion.
“I’m okay.” My voice is shaking. My entire body is shaking. I wasn’t even the one fighting.
“I’m going to take care of you, solnishka. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I know.”
And I do know that. I believe him.
So why can’t I stop shaking?
“You’ve got to go, man!” the chef bellows from the kitchen. “I’m calling the cops.”
Ivan starts to let go of me, but I cling to him. I twine my fingers through his so he can’t escape. I need him close to me. He scrutinizes me for a moment, then sighs and leads me back out to the car.
He helps me up and buckles me into place before walking around and claiming his spot behind the wheel. We take a circuitous route through the city to make sure we shake anyone who might be following us. Based on Mikhail’s face, that run-in was a surprise for him, too. But still—better safe than sorry.
Finally, we move beyond the last of the residential streets until we’re winding through the hills. Only then can I let myself relax.
“Are you okay?” Ivan asks again.
He’s still holding my hand over the console. I squeeze his tighter. “Yeah. I’m okay.”
“You were shaking.” Ivan readjusts his grip on the wheel. The whites of his knuckles are visible. “I can’t stand that he scared you like that.”
“Really, I’m okay. I knew you would protect me.”
His jaw clenches. “He deserves worse than he got. If there hadn’t been so many people, I would have—”
“Ivan, I know. I—” The vibration in me seems to have reached my chest. My heart is racing and I realize all at once that I wasn’t shaking because I was scared. This hum in my chest has nothing to do with fear or Mikhail Sokolov.
It’s for Ivan.
I need him. Now.
“Pull over.”
“Right now?” He checks his mirrors. The road is empty.
I shift in my seat and press my thighs together. “Right now.”
Ivan pulls into the next dirt driveway and follows it until there’s an overgrown alcove in the woods. Huge trees cast shade over the car and block the view of the main road. It’s perfect.
Before Ivan can ask what is going on, I unbuckle my seatbelt and crawl into his seat. I straddle him, pressing the beat between my legs against his body.
“Seeing you back there was really, really hot.” I hook my hands behind his neck and roll my hips against him. “That’s why I was shaking. It was adrenaline from seeing you in action like that. But now, there’s nowhere for all that adrenaline to go.”
Ivan’s eyes have been eaten away by the black of his pupils. He grips my waist and drags me against him. “I have an idea or two for where it could go.”
He captures my mouth, nipping at my bottom lip while he throws his seat back as far as it will go. I yelp in surprise and Ivan slides his tongue past my lips.
We are a mess of teeth and tongues and limbs as he lifts my hips high so I can wiggle out of my sweatpants. Somehow, I manage to get them off and straddle him again. Ivan tugs down the neck of my shirt and pushes my bra aside. He takes my breast in his mouth and I arch my back.
“Ivan,” I moan. His hair is silky soft between my fingers. “You’re killing me.”
He smirks up at me. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”
His pants are a lot easier to deal with than mine. A button and one zipper and my hand is wrapped around the long, thick length of him.
He curses under his breath as I slowly explore him from top to bottom. “You’re going to kill me, Cora.”
I’m fine with that, but he isn’t. He presses me back against the steering wheel, grips my hips, and pulls me down onto him in one devastatingly steady stroke.
We crash together until I’m sticky with sweat and panting. All I can do is lay my head on his shoulder as he seats himself deep inside of me again and again.
“Come for me,” he growls. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of my hips. He’s on the edge, holding himself together long enough for me to fall first. Sacrificing for me yet again.
I throw my head back and cry out.
“Good girl, Cora. Just like that.” His lower lip is caught between his teeth as he works me down his cock once, twice, a third time. Then he crashes down with me.
I kiss his creased forehead until his arms band around my back and we’re lying together, limp and sated.
And safe.
Most of all, we’re safe.