4. Cora
4
CORA
I shouldn’t be here.
Every rational part of me screams at me to run while he’s in the shower.
But where would I go?
The weight of that question settles into my bones.
Another city that doesn’t care about me? Streets filled with strangers who would step over my body without a second glance. Out there, I’m nothing. But in here…
In here, I’m something. Something he wants.
I don’t trust this feeling. I don’t trust him. I don’t trust the way he looks at me like he already knows what I’m thinking before I do. I close my eyes, sighing to myself. God, what’s wrong with me?
“Thought you’d have gone by now.”
I look up. He’s standing in the bathroom doorway, towel low on his hips. A rush of steam spills out around him, curling along the polished marble floors. “Glad you decided to stay,” he adds with a smile that makes my pussy tingle. “I’m enjoying your company.”
Water clings to his skin, trailing down the hard ridges of his stomach, carving paths I force myself not to follow.
Jesus.
He was dangerous before. Fully clothed, shrouded in that unreadable calm of his. Now, stripped down to nothing but muscle, he’s something else entirely.
My throat tightens, but I lift my chin, refusing to shrink beneath his gaze. "I’m just using you for a warm bed."
His lips curve into a slow, wicked half-smile. "That suits me just fine."
My stomach flips. I roll my eyes. "You must be really lonely to want to hang out with a homeless beggar."
His smirk deepens. "You’re also a thief, let’s not forget."
"Oh, yes," I mutter, glancing around the extravagant suite. "I’ve already emptied your wallet.”
“Now I know you’re lying.”
“How come?”
He chuckles, low and dark. "I didn’t bring it."
"You paid for clothes, food, and the room. You must have a wallet.”
“My word is enough.”
“What you’re planning on buying me next. A leash? Seeing as I’m apparently your pet for the night."
His expression sharpens, something dangerous flashing in his eyes. "Sit up and beg."
My breath catches. Heat rolls through me before I can shove it down.
I scowl. "You’re disgusting."
"And you’re stalling," he says, stepping closer. "Why are you still here? Try the truth, you might like it."
I could say I have nowhere else to go. That I don’t trust myself out there. That he’s dangerous, but out there is far worse.
Instead, I cross my arms. "Because I’m comfortable."
He snorts. "You don’t look comfortable. You look on edge."
"Maybe your expensive sheets are too soft," I snap.
“So toss them on the floor.”
His gaze flicks to the way I’m gripping the sheet. His smirk returns, slower this time.
The air shifts. The teasing edge vanishes. Something heavier settles in its place. I exhale sharply, trying to ignore the way my pulse hammers against my ribs. He’s too close now.
So I do the only thing I can—I stand. A poor attempt at regaining control.
A mistake.
Because standing only brings me into his reach.
His hands find my waist, fingers pressing lightly into the silk, a touch that shouldn’t feel as possessive as it does.
He’s warm. Solid. Unmovable.
I stiffen. "What are you doing?"
"That should be obvious." His voice is lower, roughened with something dangerous. “You’re my pet for the night, remember? You’ll do what you’re told like a good girl, won’t you?”
Then he kisses me. For a moment I let it happen but then I shove him back. Hard. My breath comes fast, uneven. "What the hell are you doing?"
He exhales sharply, something like frustration flickering in his eyes. "Tell me—without lying—that you don’t want me right now. Do it."
My pulse thunders. I should tell him that. I should say the words.
But nothing comes out.
His eyes darken, satisfaction curling at the edges of his lips. "That’s what I thought."
His hand threads through my hair, tilting my head back as his mouth presses against mine again.
This time, I don’t fight it.
His grip tightens, pulling me flush against him, and I let him. I don’t think about what it means, what it says about me.
His hands are rough, gripping, claiming. I fight back. My nails dig into his shoulders, my teeth graze his lower lip in retaliation.
He growls, a sound that vibrates against my mouth. I swallow it whole.
“Told you,” he says. “I knew you wanted me.”
"You’re a bastard," I breathe against his lips. “I hate you.”
"And you’re a liar," he growls, tearing the sheet away.
My world tilts as he backs me toward the bed, shoving me down.
“You’re trembling,” he says.
“I’m not,” I lie again, my voice shaky, betraying me instantly.
He smirks, a knowing smile that sends a shiver down my spine. “Yes, you are. But that’s good. It means you’re alive.”
“I hate you,” I reply.
“No, you hate that you want me.”
I open my mouth to protest, but before I can speak, his hands are on my hips, lifting me effortlessly off the ground. I gasp, my hands instinctively flying to his shoulders for balance. “What are you?—”
“Don’t fight it,” he says, his voice low, commanding. “You’re mine tonight, Cora. And I’m going to make sure you never forget this.”
His towel slips, falling to the floor, and my eyes widen as I take him in. All of him. Every hard, defined inch. I look at his rock hard cock and I freeze at the sight.
“Ivan,” I whisper, my voice full of shame, “I’m… I’m a virgin.”
“Good.” His lips curl into a smirk. “That means I can claim you, Cora. First and forever.”
I hate the way my body reacted to his words, the way my stomach clenches and heat pools low between my legs. “You’re a mobster,” I say, but my voice lacks conviction. “I shouldn’t want you.”
“And yet here you are,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear as he nipped at the sensitive skin. “Letting me touch you.”
“You’re not giving me much choice.”
“You don’t want choice any longer. You want me to take charge. You are my pet tonight, remember?”
His hands slide down my body, pulling my joggers down my legs until they pool on the floor. I lay back, exposed, my heart pounding as his gaze rakes over me.
“Touch yourself,” he commands, his voice low and gravelly.
My breath hitched. “What?”
“You heard me. You’re already wet. Now show me how you like to be touched.”
Something about his voice makes it impossible to disobey. My hand slides straight to my clit, stroking it slowly. A sharp breath escapes me, my body instantly reacting, and his eyes darken, full of hunger as he watches me.
“Good girl,” he growls, his hand wrapping around his own length, lazily stroking. “Now, tell me what you like.”
A slow smirk tugs at my lips as I circle faster, teasing myself just to make his jaw tighten. “Hmm… wouldn’t you like to know?”
His smirk mirrors mine, but there’s a warning in his gaze, a promise that makes my stomach flutter. “Cora,” he warns, voice low and edged with amusement.
I bite my lip, my pleasure building. “I like you watching me.”
His smirk turns wicked. “That so?”
Before I can blink, he drops to his knees in front of me, his grip firm as he yanks me closer. My gasp turns into a soft laugh, but the sound dies the moment his mouth finds me, his tongue teasing and torturing with lazy, deliberate strokes. “How about now?”
“God, that’s so good.”
“Tell me,” he demands, his voice muffled against me, words vibrating through my core. “Tell me what you want. Give me a command.”
I tighten my grip in his hair, tugging just to feel the low growl that vibrates through him. “I want you to make me come.”
His chuckle is indulgent. “Oh, printsessa. That was never in question.”
His tongue flicks, slowly at first, then relentless when he feels me start to tremble. My thighs try to close around his head, but his hands keep me spread, his grip bruising as he devours me.
“Fuck—Ivan,” I gasp, body arching, nails digging into his scalp as I break apart, waves of pleasure rolling through me as my orgasm swallows me up.
He hovers over me, his body heavy, solid, and hot as he drags his lips over mine.
“You’re nervous.” His hand slips down to my throat, his fingers resting lightly against my pulse. “But you still want to, don’t you? You want to know what it feels like to be taken by a man like me. That takes courage.”
My cheeks burn, but I don’t look away. I can’t. His gaze is hypnotic, pulling me in, making me feel like I’m already his.
“Good girl,” he says, his smirk widening. “Because I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never imagined. But first, you need to relax.” His hand moves down my body, his touch feather-light as it trails over my collarbone, my breasts, my stomach. “Breathe for me, printsessa. In and out. That’s it.”
I do as he says, inhaling deeply, then exhaling shakily. His touch is intoxicating, every brush of his fingers sending sparks through me. When his hand finally reaches the top of my thighs, I gasp, my hips jerking involuntarily.
“Shh,” he soothes, his voice like velvet. “I’ve got you.” His fingers begin to explore, slow and deliberate, circling my clit with a precision that makes my entire body burn. “You’re so wet for me already. Do you know how much that pleases me?”
“I—I don’t know,” I stammer, my hands gripping the sheets tightly. My mind is a whirlwind of sensations, every nerve in my body on fire.
“You will,” he growls, his fingers slipping inside me, making me moan. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll know exactly what your body is capable of.” He leans down, his lips brushing against my ear.
I arch into his touch, my body moving instinctively against his hand. He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates through me. “That’s it. Let me hear you.”
“Ivan,” I gasp, my voice breaking as his fingers curl inside me, hitting a spot that makes my legs tremble. “I—I can’t?—”
“Yes, you can,” he says firmly, his other hand gripping my hip to steady me. “You’re going to come again for me, Cora. And when you do, I want you to scream my name.”
His command is impossible to resist. My body tightens, every muscle coiling as the pleasure builds, consuming me. “That’s it,” he says. “Come for me.”
My climax hits with a cry that echoes through the room, his name spilling from my lips like a prayer. “Ivan!”
Well done, my little virgin,” he murmurs, his voice thick with approval. He withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips and sucking them clean with a satisfied smirk. “But we’re just getting started.”
Before I can recover, he flips me onto my stomach, his hands gripping my hips as he pulls me up onto my knees. I feel exposed, vulnerable, but also… exhilarated. The anticipation of what’s to come is unbearable.
“I need you to trust me, Cora. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” I whisper, my voice trembling. I feel him press against me, the heat of his body searing into mine.
“Good girl,” he growls, his hands tightening on my hips. “Relax for me. Let me take care of you.”
And then he’s easing his way inside me. It’s overwhelming, the stretch, the fullness, but also perfect. He moves slowly at first, giving me time to adjust, his hands soothing as they stroke my back.
“That’s it,” he murmurs as he rocks back and forth. “You’re taking me so well. Such a good little virgin for me.”
“Ivan,” I moan, my fingers clawing at the sheets as he picks up the pace. Every thrust sends waves of pleasure crashing through me, my body moving in time with his. “It’s so much?—”
“I know,” he says, his voice rough with need. “But you can take it.” He leans over me, his chest pressing against my back as his lips find my ear. “And you’re mine now. Every inch of you belongs to me.”
His words send a shiver through me, and I feel myself tightening around him, my body responding to his dominance in ways I never thought possible.
When he reaches around to rub my clit, I lose all control, my orgasm crashing over me with such intensity that I scream his name again.
He doesn’t stop, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his own release. “Look at you,” he growls, his voice strained. “So perfect, so tight. I’m going to fill you up, Cora. Mark you as mine.”
And then he’s coming, his body shuddering with the force of it as he spills inside me. The sensation is overwhelming, and I collapse onto the bed, spent and trembling.
His lips press against my forehead as he strokes my hair. “Sleep now, printsessa,” he murmurs. “You’ve earned it.”
The bed shifts as he rises, and the warmth of his body disappears like it was never there at all. I don’t watch him. I won’t. But I hear him. The quiet rustle of fabric as he pulls his pants on, the controlled, efficient movements of a man who is done with me.
"Get some sleep."
His voice is flat. Cool. As if this—we—are nothing more than a transaction that has now been completed.
Something ugly twists in my stomach.
I turn my head, finally looking at him. He stands near the edge of the bed, shirtless, his expression unreadable. He doesn’t meet my gaze. Doesn’t look at me like a man who had his hands on me, his mouth on me, his body against mine.
No, he looks at me like I’m someone he’s already moved past.
"Where are you going?" I ask.
I hate the way my voice comes out. Afraid. Already missing him, relying on him for sleep.
Because I don’t need him.
Because I don’t rely on anyone except myself.
He glances at me, but there’s nothing there. No warmth, no regret, no second thoughts. Just cold certainty.
"You’re leaving in the morning. Don’t get close.”
My stomach twists. I shouldn’t care. I knew what this was. The sheets feel too tight, my skin too hot, my chest too tight.
"Right." I force a shrug, turning away. "Wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome."
I wait for him to say something. Anything. A parting line, a joke, maybe even an insult to break the tension.
But there’s nothing. Just the weight of his gaze. Watching me.
Then he walks over to me and settles beside me again, pulling me into his arms. I shove him away but he’s too strong. He holds me close. “I know what you’re thinking,” he whispers. “But trust me, it’s better it ends here. You don’t want a life with a man like me. It would destroy you.”