Chapter Fifteen #2
I had a near-death experience a week ago, so I’m not scared of dying. But I also have people I care about, and the last thing I want is him laying his filthy claws on them.
Dread unfurls in my stomach.
I’ve seen what he did to his boss—what he’s capable of.
I need to get to him as quickly as I can—pretend to work for him, gather all the information I need, and then come clean to Igor.
But how?
Just because I’m working for Serrano doesn’t mean he’ll let me in on every little secret about himself and his operations, especially after I called off our alliance once. But I’ve gone too deep, and just telling Igor everything won’t make him trust me.
My head begins to throb with a dull headache. My thoughts are all over the place, and I need a shower to help me calm down and think straight. Fear breeds desperation and desperation breeds irrationality, and that’s the last thing I need right now.
Drawing in a deep breath, I take off the shorts and shirt I’m wearing and slip into the bathroom for a hot shower.
I turn on the shower and adjust the temperature until the water is almost unbearably hot. Steam quickly fills the room as I step beneath the spray and close my eyes.
The water pounds against my shoulders, washing away the sweat clinging to my skin but doing nothing to quiet the noise inside my head.
Serrano’s words play on a loop.
Don’t try to play smart, Audrey.
Fuck him.
I drag both hands over my face and let out a frustrated breath.
Where are you, Igor?
For the first time since all of this started, I don’t want to figure it out on my own. I just want him with me. Somehow nothing feels too impossible to fix when he’s here, no matter how big an issue it is.
And when he’s away, I just feel lost.
Suddenly, the bathroom door clicks and my eyes fly open.
Through the veil of steam, I find Igor standing in the doorway.
He simply stands there, one hand still resting on the doorknob, his dark suit untouched except for the loosened tie hanging around his neck. His eyes find mine immediately, holding them for the briefest moment before slowly drifting lower.
Heat rushes into my face and relief crashes into me so suddenly my knees almost give out. I wasn’t expecting him to come back so quickly. I wasn’t expecting to need him this much, either.
His blue eyes search my face, as if trying to figure out why I look like I’ve seen a ghost. “Audrey?”
My throat tightens and I blink back tears. “I thought you had meetings.”
“I did, but I missed you, so I came back.” His gaze lingers on my body for another heartbeat before it lifts back to my face. His blue eyes have turned almost stormy, every ounce of restraint quietly unraveling behind them.
That’s when the realization that I’m fully naked hits me. We’ve had sex before, but he’s never seen me like this. I suddenly become self-conscious, too aware of the way his eyes drift over my body, scorching my skin like the summer sun.
Without saying another word, he steps forward.
Three long strides carry him across the bathroom until he’s standing directly in front of me beneath the spray, the water instantly soaking through his expensive suit, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“Igor...” I whisper, though I’m not even sure what I’m trying to say.
He doesn’t give me the chance to figure it out.
One large hand slides around my waist, pulling me flush against him, while the other cups the side of my face with surprising gentleness. His forehead brushes mine for the briefest second, and then his lips crash against mine.
The way he kisses me is primal, hungry, and possessive.
I close my eyes and kiss him back with the same desperation and passion. My body tingles all over and heat pools between my legs.
My breath quickens, my nipples aching for his touch.
He cups my breast with his free hand, fondling it without mercy before he breaks his lips away from mine and kisses the rest of my body as he sinks down to his knees.
My stomach churns with anticipation as I lean back against the wall, letting him do whatever he wants with me.
Igor slides his hand between my thighs and parts them, then lowers his head, positioning it between my legs.
A sharp gasp leaves me the moment his tongue makes contact with my clit. He starts slow and torturous, pressing his tongue firmly against me and sliding it up and down a few times before locking into a rhythm that completely shatters me.
The heat from the water above mixes with the warmth of his mouth on me, driving me over the edge with a deep, consuming pleasure that feels like an out-of-body experience.
My fingers slide into his wet hair, gripping tightly as if that could somehow ground me, but I’m slipping further into a world of ecstasy with every deliberate stroke of his tongue.
This feels better than anything I’ve ever experienced. I can tell he’s a pro at it from the way he knows the right pressure to use at every point. The intense scorching of his mouth on me is driving me crazy.
“Igor,” I breathe, his name slipping out as a ragged sigh in the steam. “Baby…”
He answers by shifting his weight, his large hands sliding up the back of my thighs to lift me just a fraction and anchor me completely against him.
I roll my hips forward, chasing the devastating high of my climax as he increases the pressure of his tongue against my most sensitive part.
An ache builds in my core, tightening into a slow-burning fuse that makes every muscle in my body go taut.
My head rolls back and my eyes close as I’m completely lost to the sensation of his tongue ravishing me. The warmth building inside me expands to a dangerous high that clashes with whatever resistance is left inside me.
Then my orgasm surges like a rolling wave, flooding my entire body. Igor doesn’t stop, even as a loud cry rips from my throat and my muscles ripple and squeeze around the intense pleasure, sending a long, shivering ache from my clitoris all the way to my toes.
I’m still completely absorbed by the tremors racking my body, and before the haze clears, my husband rises to his feet. Water streams down his face, matting his dark hair to his forehead.
He looks more like a model than a bratva businessman. He’s so handsome that my stomach flutters just looking at him.
Unbuckling his belt, he takes off his pants, and I swallow when his cock springs free from his boxers. It’s hard and big, and my throat bobs at the sight of the precum on the tip of his pink head.
My vagina pulses.
I want to feel him inside me until I’m screaming his name and begging him for more.
Bracing one hand on the wall beside my head, he lifts my leg with the other and presses the tip of his erection to my entrance, then leans over and kisses my neck.
My breath hitches, my hands instinctively finding his damp shoulders as he leans forward and uses his weight to slide smoothly inside me. A long, breathless sigh escapes me as he fills me up completely, the friction sparking a deep ache that chases away the lingering exhaustion from my climax.
Then he starts to make love to me slowly, like he’s claiming me in the most sensual way possible. His thrusts are deep enough to consume me completely while he fucks me slowly enough to drive me insane.
I bury my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the woodsy scent of his cologne and whispering his name like it’s a love song.
He withdraws slowly and pushes back in, locking in a deep rhythm that matches the sound of the water falling from the shower. Each time he moves inside me, he fills me up completely.
I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers digging into his flesh as the feeling of having him this close starts to blur into something much more intense than sex.
He leans down, his mouth right against my ear, his voice rough and low over the rushing water. “Look at me,” he mutters, his breath heating my skin as he drives into me again. “Tell me who owns you.”
A shaky breath catches in my throat. I look up at him, my eyes locking onto his.
“You’re mine, Audrey,” he whispers, slowing his thrusts to a steady rhythm and taking his time to torture me with it. “Every single part of you is mine. You’re not allowed to hate me or betray me. I’ll kill any man who dares to look at you the wrong way.”
His eyes hold something more than lust or possession, and for the first time, I start to feel like I might mean more to him—more than just an object of his desire, more than just sexual attraction.
But I know deep down he’s not that kind of man.
He might care for me, protect me, and worry about me, but he’ll never love me, not in the way I want him to, at least.
Yet hearing him say that and seeing the way he looks into my eyes makes a tight, painful ache bloom in my chest. It has nothing to do with the physical pleasure, and for the first time, the weight of my true feelings for him hits me.
I can’t lose him.
The realization cuts through the fog, leaving me completely bare.
I’m falling for him all over again, deeper and more helplessly than before. And the idea of him finding out about my past alliance with Serrano and wanting nothing to do with me paralyzes me with fear.
A single tear slips from the corner of my eyes, mixing with the water on my face. It runs hot down my cheeks.
“Please,” I whisper, not even sure what I’m begging for.
A groan rumbles from his chest, and he pulls my hips hard against his and pushes deeper inside me.
I wrap my legs around his waist, clinging to him as tightly as I physically can, trying to bury the fear of tomorrow under the certainty of having him here with me tonight.