18

Chapter 52

51. Cora


51

CORA

Overstimulation is hot in theory. In reality, it’s a seesaw from torture to ecstasy and back again.

My body is still clenching around the dildo attachment, my first orgasm ebbing away, when Ivan forces me back down onto the machine.

His eyes are black with desire. It’s almost scary. Almost.

Mostly, though, the way he’s looking at me makes me want to throw this machine in the trash and get Ivan inside of me as soon as possible.

“You’re going to stay here and come until you can’t walk. That is the price you’re going to pay.” His voice is hoarse, thick with need. I can see the large bulge in the front of his pants.

“Wh-what about you?” I stutter.

He steps back and drops down into his chair. “I get to watch. That’s my prize.”

Before I can open my mouth to renegotiate, he flicks his large thumb over the remote and I cry out.

I’m still sensitive from the first orgasm and this machine is a beast. Suddenly, I’m terrified. I was all talk, all bravado coming out of the shower. But this is not the fight I was ready for.

“I won’t come again so soon,” I tell him. I’m practically begging. “I need more time. I need—”

He turns up the power and my words are lost to a crackling groan I didn’t know I was capable of. I toss my head back and rock my hips. My whole body is moving on its own. I’m helpless to do anything but go along for the ride.

“Like that,” Ivan coaches. “Grind down on it.”

I want to do as he says, but in reality, I have zero control here. The machine takes what it wants. Well, actually Ivan takes what he wants, kicking up the power so I have no other option than to come again.

I open my eyes just long enough to see Ivan leaning forward in his chair, his eyes locked on me. I have his full attention even if I can’t give him mine. I’m a little busy drooling and coming while my brain turns into pudding.

“I’m coming. I came,” I say. Truth be told, I’m not really sure which tense to use. I just came down from one wave, but a slight shift of my hips has the attachment working me right back up.

“Touch yourself,” Ivan orders.

I sit up and slide my hands over my chest. My nipples are pinched to hard, sensitive points that I let slide between my fingers.

Ivan watches my hands with intense focus. He isn’t missing a moment of this.

“It feels so good,” I whisper.

“The machine?”

I shake my head and look at him. “Your eyes on me.”

“You like when I watch you.”

It isn’t a question, but I nod anyway. “I like seeing what it does to you.”

My eyes slip lower to the evidence of how much Ivan enjoys watching me, too.

He stands up and eases towards me, lowering the intensity on the toy as he does. Then he sets the remote to the side and slips his waistband down low. His cock springs free.

“You can do a lot more than see it,” he growls.

I don’t need an invitation. I take him in my hand and wrap my lips around his head.

At this rate, I’m going to be a pile of goo before the night is done. It’s nice to take control of something while I still can. To give Ivan a fraction of the pleasure I’m feeling.

I circle my tongue around him and then dive deep.

Ivan lets out a low curse, which is all the encouragement I need. I wrap my hand around the base of him and stroke, meeting my mouth in the middle.

Without really meaning to, it becomes a competition with myself to bring him to his knees. I want to make him lose control the same way I have.

He places his hand at the back of my head, thrusting gently into my mouth. My name falls from his lips like a prayer. “Cora.”

I feel him tensing. I know it’s close.

Then fireworks flare behind my eyes as the toy kicks into high gear.

I fall back with a cry, using every bit of my strength to stay seated and not fling myself onto the floor.

When I look up, Ivan is holding the remote again. I didn’t even see him grab it.

“Cheater!” I pant.

He laughs and stands back, turning the dial higher and higher.

I clench my teeth and think about taxes. About grandmothers in hand-knit cardigans and counting how many tiles there are in the floor. I pull all of my muscles tight and, when that doesn’t help, I give up and just flop silly and let this thing have its way with me.

It promptly obliterates me yet again. Three orgasms? Four? I’m losing count. Numbers don’t seem to hold much meaning anymore.

“You’re still fighting it,” Ivan says with a frown. “Why?”

I feel the intensity pick back up and I moan. I can barely find words. My mind is melted. Rational conversation is for the birds.

Somehow, I manage to gasp out, “I want you inside of me. When I come, I want you… I want it to be you.”

Ivan reaches out and places a hand on my stomach. Gently, he shifts my body back, angling me so the focus of the vibration shifts. Then he slips his hand lower, circling his finger over my clit.

I open to him, moaning wordlessly because I am so far beyond human speech that it is straight-up laughable.

He kisses my forehead and my cheek. Then his lips find my ear. “It’s been me this entire time, Cora. Inside of you or not, your pleasure is mine. I own you.”

And just like that, I crash.

The most powerful orgasm yet rocks through me. I cling to Ivan’s arm to keep from pitching sideways. It’s a miracle I can sit up at all.

As I come down from yet another climax, Ivan finally turns the machine off.

The silence in the room is deafening after the nonstop vibration of the toy. I’m positive he can hear my heart thundering in my chest. The blood coursing through my veins. He grips my waist and lifts me off of the toy as if I weigh nothing.

“Am I done?” I whisper, wrapping my useless legs around him.

“That depends. Can you walk?”

He pretends like he’s going to set me on the ground and I cling to him even more tightly. “Definitely not. Don’t even try it.”

He chuckles and lowers me onto the bed.

As I spread out on the mattress in front of him, his smile fades. The dark desire I saw in his eyes earlier is back and entirely focused on me.

I’m not sure where I find the energy, but I spread my legs and run a hand up my stomach. I trail my finger over my skin and around each of my breasts.

Before I can slide my hand back down between my thighs, Ivan snatches my wrist and pins it to the mattress. Quickly followed by my other hand until I’m wrapped around his waist with my hands bound above my head.

“Mine,” Ivan whispers, his gaze tracing every inch of me.

I arch my hips, brushing the tip of him. “Yours.”

He slides his cock into me easily. I thought he’d be an inferno of intensity, but he’s actually slow and tender. Each stroke is a balm to my frazzled nerves, an antidote to the buzzing in my veins.

He stretches and fills me with just the tip until I’m sure I can’t take anymore. Then he slides in deeper.

“This.” I strain against his hold on my wrists and arch towards him. “This is—I want this. You.”

The words are nonsensical, but they’re everything.

The toy took whatever it wanted from me. Ivan is different. He hears me. Moves with me, not in me, if that even makes any sense.

He fills me in long, steady thrusts until I unfurl in a wash of heat and pleasure and love.

I know he feels it, too, because his breath picks up. He releases my wrists and grips my thighs, holding me fast against him.

“Perfect,” he breathes, watching me come undone one last time as he follows close behind. “You’re so fucking perfect for me.”

It’s a long time before Ivan slides out of me and carries me into the bathroom. I just took a shower, but my skin is sticky with sweat and my new muscles hurt in all the best ways. He lathers soap over my body and his own. Then he wraps me in the softest, fluffiest towel and lays me in our bed.

“Tell me what you need, Cora.”

“You.”

His eyebrows rise. “I don’t think you can handle any more of me tonight.”

I smile, my skin warming with a blush. “No, not that. Just… lie here with me. Stay here with me.”

He nods and starts to lower himself into bed when I hear my phone alarm buzzing. He grabs it from the nightstand and holds it out to me. “What is ‘BC’?”

“Oh. That’s the alarm for my pill.”

“Pill?”

I struggle upright and pull the circular pill container out of the nightstand. “The pill. I was off of birth control while I was at Alexander’s, but I’m back on my schedule now.”

I drop a small blue pill into my hand and am about to toss it back down the hatch when Ivan lays his warm fingers on my wrist. “Do you want to be back on your schedule?”

“What?”

He tips his head towards the pill.

I frown and blink. Apparently, five—God, maybe six—consecutive orgasms make me a little slow because it takes me way too long to understand what he’s saying.

Finally, I look up at him, eyes wide and stunned. “Do you want me on my schedule?”

“I want what you want,” he says. “But I also want a future with you.”

It’s the most direct conversation we’ve had about our relationship since… ever. Sleeping in the same room, doing a whole lot of not-sleeping in the same room—it all pointed towards this being an actual relationship. But neither of us had said it out loud.

Until now.

I blink back a flood of emotion. “I want a future with you, too, Ivan. I want all of it.”

“Kids?”

Leave it to Ivan Pushkin to be direct about life’s big questions. “Yeah,” I admit. “I want kids. I want to be a better parent to them than either of mine were to me.”

“That won’t be hard. For either of us,” he says.

I chew on my lip. “I hope so.”

His thumb brushes over my mouth, untucking my lip from between my teeth. “I know so, Cora. You’re going to be an amazing mother whenever the time comes.”

My heart races. “I haven’t really thought about—I mean, the timing is—There has been a lot going on and I guess I don’t know what you are—”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He curls his hand around my neck and presses his forehead to mine. “I’m here with you, solnishka. No matter what. Whenever you’re ready.”

I press into his steady touch. He’s solid and dependable. I’ve never felt safer than when I’m in this man’s arms.

I know our kids will feel the same way.

“I’m ready.”

He pulls back to look in my eyes. “Ready.”

“Ready,” I repeat. “I’m not going anywhere, either. So why not just… let fate decide?”

His eyes are a bright amber when he smiles. He’s so handsome that I want to look away. It’s too much.

“Fuck fate,” he says, plucking the pills out of my hand and tossing them back into the bedside drawer. “You and I will choose our own future.”