44. Cathy
44
CATHY
A s I step back into Ivan’s mansion, the familiar shadows and towering walls no longer feel imposing but welcoming. The cool, dark air wraps around me like a protective cloak, a sensation I hadn’t expected.
For the first time, this place doesn’t feel like a cage; it feels like a home, one that I’ve chosen.
I make my way to his study, the room that often feels like the heart of his world. He’s there, standing by his desk, his gaze intense but unreadable as he watches me cross the threshold.
There’s a moment of silence between us, a charged pause, before I set my bags down by my feet and meet his eyes directly.
“You were right,” I say, my voice steady, though I can feel the last traces of nervousness melting away. “All my things were still at my apartment, untouched.”
“I’m glad you decided to come back,” he says. “Wasn’t sure you would.”
Taking a deep breath, I look around the study, then back at him, feeling a newfound confidence bubbling up. “I want to be here, Ivan. With you. But on my terms.”
I can see the surprise in his eyes, but he doesn’t interrupt as I continue. “No more contracts. No more locked doors. I choose to stay here because I want to, because I believe there’s something worth building between us.”
There’s a stillness in the air, and I let a small smile touch my lips. “Besides, I have that manuscript that needs finishing,” I add, gesturing to my bag. “And I can’t think of a better place to write than your library.”
A flicker of amusement crosses his face. “The library is yours to use,” he replies, his tone softening in a way I haven’t heard before. “I’m sure it has everything you’ll need.” There’s a hint of warmth in his voice, and it reassures me that this choice, this life I’m choosing, feels right.
I pat my belly and smirk, feeling bold enough to tease him. “Well, there is one more thing. I’m going to need someone who can handle my pregnancy cravings,” I say, my eyes twinkling. “You did say something about traditional Russian snacks?”
Ivan raises an eyebrow, a rare smile curving his lips. “You have quite the appetite for someone so determined to call the shots,” he murmurs, his tone laced with a hint of humor that catches me off guard.
He lets the silence hang for a moment, then begins talking, his voice softened by something I haven’t heard before—a kind of warmth. “When I was young, my mother would make pirozhki for us,” he starts, his expression momentarily shifting as he slips into a memory. “Soft, warm rolls, stuffed with meat, potatoes, or sweet cheese.” His eyes meet mine, a flicker of surprise in them, as if he’s just realizing how much he remembers.
"And then blini, thin pancakes folded over sour cream or jam.” His face lights up, and there’s a hint of that rare smile again. He looks younger somehow, almost boyish, as he describes each dish. “I’d sneak extra when I thought no one was watching.”
He catches me staring and raises an eyebrow, the warmth fading slightly, but the glint of humor remains.
Then he straightens, his hand sliding down to my hip, and the look in his eyes shifts back to that dark, commanding heat. “Enough talk,” he says, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, “bend over the desk.”
There’s no more softness, just the intense focus I know too well.
With a steadying breath, I step forward, placing my hands on the desk, bending over as he’d instructed. His presence behind me is electric, a force I’m helpless to resist.
He stands behind me, his tall frame casting a shadow over my trembling form. His hand cups my ass, squeezing gently before giving it a firm smack. The sound echoes through the study, a sharp contrast to the quietness of the night.
"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "You want more?"
I nod, biting my lip to keep from moaning. He spanks me again, harder this time, and I gasp, the sting spreading across my skin like wildfire. But it's not painful—it's exhilarating. Each smack sends a jolt of pleasure through me, making my body quiver with need.
Another slap lands on my already reddened skin, and I whimper, my hips involuntarily bucking back against him. He chuckles darkly, the sound sending shivers down my spine.
"That's it," he growls. "Show me how much you love this."
His hand continues its relentless assault, each strike more forceful than the last. I can feel the heat building between my legs, the ache growing more intense with every passing second. My breaths come in short, desperate gasps, my mind swimming in a sea of arousal.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he stops. I sag against the desk, my body trembling with the effort of holding still. But the respite is short-lived.
His hands slide under my skirt, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of my thighs. I shiver at his touch, my eyes closing as I moan softly.
He pauses for a moment, letting the tension build, before slipping a finger inside me. I cry out, arching my back as he begins to move, his touch both gentle and insistent.
"God, you're so wet for me," he taunts, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "So ready for what's coming."
Another finger joins the first, thrusting deeper into me with each stroke. I can feel my climax approaching, the pressure building to an unbearable level. But just as I think I might explode, he pulls his fingers away, leaving me panting and begging for more.
"Come for me, Cathy," he orders, his voice harsh and commanding. "Come hard for your husband."
The words are enough to push me over the edge. With a scream of pure bliss, my body convulses as wave after wave of orgasm crashes over me. It feels like I'm falling apart, my entire being focused on the overwhelming pleasure coursing through me.
When it finally subsides, I collapse against the desk, gasping for breath. Ivan steps closer, his cock hard and throbbing against my ass. I can feel his heat, the promise of what's to come, and my body responds instinctively, pressing back against him.
"On your knees," he commands, his voice gruff with desire.
Without hesitation, I drop to the floor, my hands reaching up to grasp his shaft. I lick my lips, my mouth watering at the sight of his thick, pulsing erection.
Slowly, I take him into my mouth, savoring the taste and texture of him. He groans, his hands gripping my hair as I begin to bob my head up and down, my tongue swirling around the tip of his cock.
I work him harder, taking him as deep as I can, my throat contracting around his length. He bucks his hips, fucking my mouth with abandon, the sounds of our bodies mingling in the silence of the room.
But he doesn't let it continue for long. Suddenly, he pulls out, lifting me back onto the desk. My legs wrap around his waist as he positions himself at my entrance, his cock nudging against my slick folds.
With one swift motion, he thrusts into me, filling me completely. We both groan at the sensation, the friction igniting a fresh wave of desire within me. He starts to move, pounding into me with powerful strokes, his hips slamming against mine with each thrust.
"Tell me how much you love my cock," he demands, his voice rough with need.
"I love it," I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. "I love your cock, Ivan. Fuck me harder."
He obliges, driving into me with even greater force. The desk shakes beneath us, the sound of our bodies meeting echoing through the room. I can feel my second orgasm building, the pressure becoming unbearable once more.
"Come for me again, Cathy," he growls, his voice filled with urgency. "Let me see that beautiful pussy tighten around my cock."
The command pushes me over the edge. With a scream of release, I come again, my inner walls clenching tightly around his shaft.
"You like that, don't you, Cathy?" he growls, his voice rough with desire. "You like feeling my cock pounding into you like this?”
I moan in response, my body arching back against him involuntarily as another wave of pleasure builds within me. His words are so dirty, so degrading, but they send electric shocks of arousal straight to my core.
“Yes, Ivan," I gasp, my voice trembling with need. "I love it. I love how you fuck me so hard.”
He chuckles darkly, the sound reverberating through my body. "Good girl," he murmurs, punctuating his praise with another deep thrust that makes my knees buckle. "Because you’re going to take every inch of me, just like this. You’re going to come on my cock until you can’t see straight.”
His fingers find my clit again, teasing and circling, adding another layer of sensation to the mix.
"Fuck, Ivan, I’m so close," I pant, my hips bucking against his hand, desperate for release.
"Not yet," he commands, pulling his fingers away from my clit and focusing solely on fucking me. His rhythm grows even more intense, his strokes becoming sharper, angrier. "I want to feel you come apart around me, but only when I tell you to."
I whimper in frustration, my body straining towards completion, but his dominance is absolute. He controls every aspect of this encounter, from the intensity of his thrusts to the depth of his penetration. And somehow, that knowledge only makes the situation hotter.
"Please, Ivan," I beg, my voice cracking with desperation. "Please, just let me come. I can’t… I can’t hold back anymore…"
He pauses for a moment, his cock pulsing inside me as he gazes down at me with those piercing blue eyes. There’s a flicker of something in them—something almost tender—before he leans down to capture my lips in a bruising kiss. His tongue plunges into my mouth, exploring every inch with the same aggressive fervor he uses to claim my body.
When he finally pulls back, his breathing is ragged, his chest heaving with exertion. "Alright, sweetheart," he says softly, almost reluctantly. "Come for me. Let go. Do it.”
The permission is all I need. My orgasm hits me like a tidal wave, overwhelming my senses and consuming me entirely.
He follows me over the edge, his own climax hitting hard and fast, his cock throbbing inside me as he pours himself into me completely.
We stay locked together for what feels like an eternity, neither of us willing to break the connection.
Finally, after what seems like forever, he slowly withdraws from me, leaving me gasping and trembling on the desk. He traces a finger over my trembling lips, watching with satisfaction as I shiver under his touch.
I melt into his embrace, feeling safe and cherished despite the intensity of our encounter. But before I can fully relax, he suddenly picks me up off the desk, carrying me effortlessly across the room.
"What are you doing?" I laugh breathlessly, wrapping my arms around his neck.
"Taking you somewhere more comfortable," he replies with a wicked grin. "You’ve been such a good girl today. I think you deserve a little reward."
“And what might that be?”
“My wife is going to enjoy a bath.”
“Oh, well if my husband is ordering me,” I say with a grin. “What choice do I have?”