17. Cora
17
CORA
“ C ora,” he says once we’re in the bedroom, his voice low, thick with that Russian accent that always makes my stomach twist. “You are the most important thing in the world. You must stay safe.”
My throat feels tight, my words lodged somewhere deep inside me. He takes a step closer. The sound is deliberate, calculated. It’s a warning. He’s in control here, and he wants me to know it. “Please, Ivan…” My voice trails off.
“No,” he says, his tone firm. “You don’t get to beg yet.” He reaches out, his fingers brushing against my cheek. The touch is soft, almost tender, but it sends a jolt of electricity through me. “You belong to me, Cora. You must obey, for your own safety.”
His words make my stomach churn, but not out of fear. No, it’s something else. Something raw and primal. I hate it. I hate how much I crave it.
“You don’t own me,” I whisper, my voice trembling.
Ivan smirks, his hand sliding down to grip my chin. “Don’t I?” His thumb brushes against my bottom lip, and I can’t help but shiver.
I want to argue. I want to fight back. But I can’t. Not when he’s looking at me like that. Not when his touch is making my body betray me. My breath hitches as he leans in, his lips brushing against my ear.
“You’re going to apologize,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin. “You’re going to tell me how sorry you are for trying to fight. And then, maybe, I’ll forgive you.”
His words send a jolt of heat straight to my core. I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t want him. But I do. God, I do.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Ivan pulls back slightly, his eyes narrowing. “What was that? I didn’t hear you.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again, louder this time. My cheeks burn with humiliation, but I can’t look away from him.
“Good,” he says, his lips curling into a smirk. “Now, tell me why you’re sorry.”
“Because—because I tried to fight you,” I stammer, my heart racing.
“And?” he prompts, his hand moving to grip my waist.
“And… I belong to you,” I admit, the words heavy on my tongue.
Ivan’s smirk widens. “That’s right. You do.” He leans in again, his lips brushing against mine. “Say it again.”
“I belong to you,” I whisper, my voice barely more than a breath.
“Louder,” he demands, his grip tightening.
“I belong to you!” I cry out, my voice breaking.
Ivan’s smirk turns into a full-blown grin. “Good girl.” He kisses me, hard and demanding, his tongue slipping into my mouth before I can think to resist. Not that I would.
When he finally pulls away, I’m breathless. His eyes are dark with desire as he looks down at me. “Now, let’s see how sorry you really are,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “I want you naked. Now.”
I obey, my heart pounding, as he undresses himself. First the tie, then the jacket, then the shirt. Each piece of clothing is removed with precision, revealing the hard, sculpted muscles beneath.
By the time he’s down to his boxers, I can barely breathe. The injuries just make me want him more. What is wrong with me?
“Get on the bed,” he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument.
I obey without hesitation, my legs carrying me to the bed as if they have a mind of their own. I lie down, feeling the cool sheets against my skin, and watch as he finishes undressing. When he’s finally naked, I can’t help but stare. He’s perfect. Every inch of him is hard, defined, and utterly intoxicating.
He climbs onto the bed, his knees pinning my legs apart as he leans down to kiss me again. This time, his kiss is slower. His hands explore my body, his touch sending shivers of pleasure through me.
“Ivan,” I whisper.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down my neck.
“I want you,” I admit, my breath hitching.
“That’s not enough,” he says, his teeth grazing my skin. “What do you want me to do to you?”
“I—” I start, but I can’t finish. The words are too much, too raw.
“Tell me,” he demands, his voice firm.
“I want you to touch me,” I whisper, my cheeks burning.
“Where?” he prompts, his hand trailing down my stomach.
“Everywhere,” I admit, my voice breaking.
Ivan smirks, his hand moving lower. “Good answer,” he says, his fingers brushing against my pussy. I gasp, my body arching into his touch.
He’s merciless, his fingers teasing me. My breath comes in short, shallow gasps, and I can feel the pressure building inside me. But just when I’m on the edge, he pulls away, leaving me desperate and aching.
“Ivan, please,” I beg, my voice trembling.
“Please what?” he asks, his eyes dark with desire.
“Please don’t stop,” I whisper, my cheeks burning with humiliation.
“You’ll have to beg better than that.
“Please,” I cry out. “Please, Ivan. I need you.”
“That’s more like it,” he says, his smirk widening. He leans down, his lips brushing against my ear. “But you’re going to have to work for it.”
I nod, my heart pounding in my chest. “I’ll do anything,” I whisper, my voice trembling.
“Good,” he says, his hands gripping my hips. “Because I’m not going to go easy on you.”
He pulls me onto my knees, positioning me on all fours. I feel exposed, vulnerable, but I don’t dare move. His hands grip my hips tightly, and I can feel the heat of his body pressing against me.
He thrusts into me, filling me completely. I cry out, my body arching into his. He’s merciless, his thrusts hard and demanding, and I can’t help but moan with each one. My hands grip the sheets tightly, my body trembling with pleasure.
“You’re mine,” he growls, his hands gripping my hips tightly. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” I cry out, my voice trembling.
“Again,” he demands, his thrusts growing harder.
“I’m yours!” I scream, my body trembling with pleasure.
“Good girl,” he growls, his hands moving to grip my shoulders. He pulls me up, my back pressed against his chest, and continues to thrust into me.
He reaches around, his hand brushing against my clit, and I cry out, the pressure inside me building to a breaking point. His thrusts grow harder, faster, and I can feel myself on the edge of orgasm.
“Come for me,” he growls, his voice low and demanding.
I can’t hold back. My body shudders, pleasure washing over me in waves as I climax. He follows shortly after, his body tensing as he finds his release. He holds me tightly, his breath hot against my skin as we both come down from the high.
We collapse onto the bed, our bodies tangled together. His arm wraps around me, pulling me close. His lips brush against my ear, his voice low and possessive.
“You’re mine, Cora,” he whispers. “So do what you’re told.”