Chapter 15
Vivi
I’m utterly, completely exhausted, but I don’t want to sleep.
My mind tells me that I need to sleep, that I’ve been going for too long. But my body aches for my husband’s touch in a way I’ve never experienced before. I look up at Ivan uncertainly, trying to figure out this longing. I’ve enjoyed our sexual interactions up to this point in a human, biological way, but this is different.
I need him…his touch, his cock …in some fundamental, primitive way that is as frightening as it is compelling.
He came for me. He burned this city to find me, uncaring of what that might mean for him.
As much as I’ve felt like a pawn in some game that only he knows the rules for, he has given up so much just to have me again.
Ivan Romanov loves me. In his own amoral, brutal way, the man—and the monster—loves me.
And if I’m honest with myself, I love him, as well.
There is no doubt in my mind about this.
“We are filthy,” Ivan murmurs, dragging a fingertip down the flesh of my throat. “Let’s get you showered.”
In the en suite bathroom, Ivan lifts me, setting me on the countertop, then moves away to turn the water on in the glass shower enclosure. He returns to step between my legs, and with his eyes fastened to mine, he begins to strip me. His hands are unhurried, gentle even. When I glance down to watch them travel the path of the buttons on my shirt, I catch a glimpse of a fine tremble that he stills by clenching his fists briefly in the folds of material.
“Vivi…” His voice is rough, and I shush him by raising a finger to his lips.
“I’m okay, Ivan. I’m okay.”
I toe my shoes off, urging him with a small, nipping kiss and my hands on his chest to continue. Steam is starting to fill the marble and tiled room. Ivan continues divesting me of my clothes, first my shirt and then my pants, lifting me to my feet to pull them over my hips and past my feet.
I stand and wait while he rids himself of his own clothing, and then he leads me into the shower.
With infinite care, he soaps his hands and glides them slowly, painstakingly, over my skin. His lips are pressed tightly closed as he inspects every inch of me, his breath catching on a string of Russian profanity when he reaches bruises in the shape of fingerprints on my bicep.
“I will kill him again,” he mutters. “I will find him in Hell, and I will make him suffer. I will—”
Reaching upward on my tiptoes, I kiss him, shutting him up. My hands skim over his flesh, slick with soap and hot with anger and desire. He has a wound…a knife, from the looks of it. I touch it gently.
“Does it hurt?”
“Shh, love.”
Love. My chest squeezes and then loosens as something unfurls within me beneath the pain and fear of the time spent with Nikolai. “Kiss me, Ivan. Make me forget.”
“I will make you forget,” he vows. “I will occupy your thoughts and your flesh so completely, the only thing you will remember is me.” His mouth descends upon mine, hard and hungry, and he shifts, pressing my back against the cool tiles of the wall.
I gasp a little as our bodies press together—his hardness against my softness. I arch closer to him without hesitation, my hands finding their way around his waist as he leans into me. Unbidden, a breathy sigh escapes me and echoes through the small space between us as I nuzzle my face into his chest.
“I can feel your heart beating,” I whisper. It hammers against my cheek as he digs his fingers into the fullness of my hips, pulling me close enough to feel him, thick and hard, against my belly.
I flinch, panic flaring for the briefest of seconds before I quell the sensation.
This is Ivan. My husband. Not Nikolai.
"Give me your hand," he orders quietly, loosening his grip on my hip to hold out a hand. I hesitate for a moment before slowly extending my hand toward him. He laces our fingers together as we stand beneath the pulsating water. There’s something about the simple act that feels weighty with significance as he lifts my hand and presses a kiss to my fingertips.
With his other hand, he trails a path of fire down my spine until it reaches its destination: my ass. He squeezes lightly before trailing lower still until his palm rests firmly at the base of one plump cheek, once again pulling me closer to him. A quiver races through me at his touch, but I don't pull away. Instead, I lean further into him and let my free hand find its way to his cock, still rock hard against my stomach.
His hips buck forward, his cock sliding away from my grip and between my legs. Ivan is always in control, always the one directing every movement. He rarely seems to want me to touch him. I moan as his hardness brushes against my inner thigh, shivering with pleasure. Slowly, I reach back out and wrap my hand around him, feeling the heat radiating from his skin, appreciating the thickness of him in my palm.
Lifting up on my toes, I brush my lips along his neck and jawline, inhaling deeply. Ivan’s chest rises and falls in a deep inhalation before he turns his head and kisses me deeply. Thoroughly.
My fingers tighten around his girth.
“I need you inside me,” I whisper, fastening my gaze on the tattoos decorating his chest. “Need you to prove that I’m yours, that I’m here, that—”
Cupping my chin, he forces me to meet his eyes. “You belong to me, Vivi. I’ll always come for you, always find you.” A tear traces its way down my cheek, partially obscured by the fall of water. Ivan sees it anyway and tracks its path with a single finger. “But you should know that I belong to you, as well.”
I nod and gulp, my breath hitching in my throat. There’s no more talking after that. Grabbing my legs, Ivan lifts me in a single effortless move, wrapping my thighs around him as he presses me into the tile for leverage. Our wet skin slides together, making a slick sound that echoes around the small enclosure. My fingers curl around his shaft tighter, guiding him to where I need him most.
He positions himself at my entrance and pushes inside, both of us groaning as he slides home. We sink into each other, the unfamiliar sensation of the position exhilarating and terrifying all at once. My inner walls clamp down around him, and he holds still, giving me a moment to relax and accept his intrusion before slowly easing out and back in.
Gripping my ass, Ivan lowers his forehead to mine as I clutch his shoulders, and he pumps himself into me at a languid pace. I arch my back and curl my hips upward and into him, moaning out loud as our bodies move together in sync, meeting him thrust for thrust. The sound of slapping skin fills the air with every push and retreat, water droplets splashing onto our faces. We don't care, losing ourselves in each other beneath the running water.
My breasts brush against his chest with every breath I take, my nipples tightening to painful points at the barely-there stimulation.
“It’s too much—”
“Never too much,” he grunts as I bite my bottom lip, and he pulls me down harder against him. “It’ll never be enough.”
His thrusts deepen, and I gasp as he hits that sweet spot inside me. I moan into his mouth, arching my back further, inviting him in. His hand slides up my spine, caressing the nape of my neck and sending goosebumps over my skin. I dig my nails into his shoulders, urging him on without words.
Harder.
Faster.
I don’t know whether the moisture glistening on our flesh is sweat or water. I’m on fire, burning from the inside out, Ivan’s stubble grazing against my chin as he leans down to kiss my neck, whispering words in Russian that drive me higher.
My heart pounds within my chest as I push back against him with urgency, meeting his movements with equal fervor. Pressure coils within me, a sweet, aching tension spiraling tighter and tighter within my core.
“So…close…” I pant out. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop—”
I dig my fingernails into his skin, holding on tight as if he’s my lifeline, the only thing keeping me here. One of his hands finds its way between us to stroke my clit, while the other holds me tight against the wall. My response is sudden and immediate; I shudder beneath his touch, my walls clenching around him as the pressure unfurls in a bright, brilliant explosion.
I think I scream.
As I go tense beneath him and then limp, Ivan slows his thrusts ever so slightly, then speeds up. He jerks against me and then pumps into me fiercely, his grip on my body painful as he comes.
I lay my head in the crook of his neck and hold him loosely around the shoulders, exhausted. His hands roam over my body sweetly, lovingly even, as we catch our breath. Reaching out, he cuts the water off, then grabs a towel from where he’d tossed one earlier over the top of the shower door. He wraps it around my back and walks, still snugly seated within me, out of the bathroom and to the bed.
I lie still, eyes closed, as he dabs the water from my skin with the fluffy towel, then tucks me beneath the thick down coverlet. The single light goes out, and the bed dips as he climbs in and settles, half-covering me and dropping kisses like sparks over my body.
I thread my fingers through his hair and lie still, savoring the moment.
After a while, when he lies still against me, I find words.
“What comes next, Ivan?”
His hand sweeps over my flank and dips between my legs, finding me wet again. “I have many ideas, my pet.”
A half-laugh escapes me, and I shove against his shoulder. “Not with me. With everything. Azrael. The war. Everything.”
The air in the hotel room grows heavy, and Ivan releases a sigh into the darkness. “Those are problems for later. Right now, all I want is to take care of you.”
In the half-light from the bathroom, I see a wicked expression cross his face. He tosses the covers back and moves down the length of my body, his large hands sliding beneath my buttocks and spreading me apart. He smiles, then lowers his lips and sucks my clit into his mouth. I buck against him, my fingers twisting into his hair.
“Ivan—”
He licks into me and murmurs something unintelligible, his tongue finding every secret and teasing it free.
“Ivan, I can’t so soon—”
He lifts his head. “You can, and you will.” Then he lowers his head and gives lie to my words, making me come not once, but twice, before he switches positions. He settles above me, sliding his cock between my lips with lazy intent before lowering his mouth to my pussy once again.
When we’re finished, I’m limp with exhaustion and satisfaction. Ivan tucks me into his side, dropping a kiss on my temple. “Sleep, love.”
I close my eyes and let a sigh shudder out. I’m safe. Safe enough to let my guard down, safe enough to let someone else take care of me.
I sleep.