Chapter 15 Ivy
IVY
“We have to stop meeting like this.”
Ruslan’s voice drifts through the fog concealing my thoughts from any clarity. I blink and while the fog doesn’t dissipate, Ruslan’s face remains clear in front of my eyes.
“Where… what happened…?”
“You don’t remember?” Ruslan’s brow knits together and a soothing warmth envelops my hand.
“I…” Where am I? Everything beyond Ruslan is fuzzy, like I’m still trapped in the dream that’s consumed me for so long that I can’t even tell how much time has passed. As I try to recall the dream, it fades quickly and details become nothing in my mind, just wisps of smoke I can’t catch.
“Ivy?” Ruslan’s face comes closer, his eyes twinkling as they reflect a light I can’t see. “Ivy, can you hear me?”
“I can,” I croak, and my throat burns. Wetting my lips with an equally dry tongue sends a rush of stinging pain through my mouth, but just as I’m about to wince, a straw appears at my lower lip. I suck hard and cool, soothing water washes away the desert in my throat.
By the time my thirst has been quenched, I’m more alert.
“Ruslan?”
“I’m here.” That warmth around my hand remains.
“Cassian… where’s… is he okay? Oh, God… oh, Cassian, there was so much blood!” It comes back to me in flickers, like photographs in my mind of random moments during that whole disaster.
“Cassian is okay,” Ruslan replies, his voice soft.
“The bullet missed everything important. He just lost a lot of blood and hit his head pretty hard when he fell out the window. So did you, actually. If your chest feels tight, it’s because you cracked a rib.
You’re lucky to be alive. A two-story fall onto stone slabs?
” Ruslan whistles softly. “You’ve got a thick skull. ”
As he speaks, it grows clearer in my mind. My parents’ house. The blood all over the study. The safe. The man who attacked Cassian and our chase up the stairs.
“He pushed me,” I murmur. “He pushed me out the window.”
“Cassian?”
“Mmhmm.”
“He saved your life.”
“I… I couldn’t do anything to help him.” The corners of my eyes sting. “He got hurt because of me and I—”
“No.” Ruslan’s suddenly over me and his warm palm cups the side of my face, grounding my sudden upset. “Those men hurt him. They were the cause. Not you.”
“Is he really going to be okay?” I whisper, gazing up into his eyes.
“Yes. We have some pretty good doctors here. You’re also going to be okay as long as you rest and don’t make any sudden movements.”
My eyes close, and when they reopen, Ruslan isn’t over me anymore. “Ruslan?”
He grunts beside me, suddenly in the chair next to me. He’s shrouded by darkness this time and he flashes me a small smile when our eyes meet. “Welcome back.”
“Welcome… back?”
It turns out my knock to the head when I fell makes maintaining consciousness a little tricky.
I lose track of how often I wake and how often I sleep.
One period of being awake lets Ruslan explain the small bleed on my brain.
That, along with heavy painkillers, is what keeps dragging me back under.
Another bout of wakefulness comes with Ruslan sliding an ice chip over my tongue and promising me I’ll be okay.
Three days I spend dipping in and out of consciousness, days that pass in a blink for me.
On the third day, I wake to Ruslan standing over me with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and sincere concentration etched across his face. He doesn’t appear to notice I’m awake, but just as I warm my throat to speak to him, a sweeping warmth across my bare thigh catches my attention.
The warmth spreads down to my knee and then back up, then it vanishes and a light chill takes its place. Before the cold becomes unpleasant, a trickle of water brings the warmth back to my skin and the sweeping sensation resumes.
Up and down my thigh, around my knee, and down my calf. Ruslan appears to be following the sensation with his eyes and it’s not until his warm fingers brush under my knee to lift my leg that it clicks what he’s doing.
He’s giving me a sponge bath.
Ruslan’s touch is incredibly gentle, his movements tender and careful.
He works without a word and leans forward until some strands of hair escape his hairline and sweep down across his temple.
My fingers suddenly throb with the urge to reach up and tuck them back into place so I can gaze at his face unobstructed.
I resist because this is enjoyable.
My heart remains at peace.
Ruslan’s sponge sweeps higher up my thigh toward the crease of my hip, and my heart skips a beat as memories of the last time his hand was between my legs floods my mind. I briefly close my eyes and bite hard on the inside of my cheek, praying Ruslan didn’t notice anything.
Cautiously, I reopen my eyes and my heart lurches.
He’s looking right at me and when our gazes lock, his lips melt into a warm smile. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“How long were you awake?”
“Long enough.”
Ruslan nods. “I’m sorry. I would have had Valentina or Raven to do this but I’m the only one here, and I didn’t want you to have to wait much longer before getting cleaned.”
“I don’t mind,” I reply immediately and my cheeks warm. “I-I mean… given what we did before, you’re probably the only one I’d trust.”
“Trust?” The tip of Ruslan’s nose twitches slightly and he shakes his head. “Those are some heavy painkillers, huh?”
I bite back a smile. “Not the painkillers talking.”
“Sure.” He rolls his eyes slightly. “I can stop if you need me to.”
“No.” I slowly rock my head against the pillow. “Feels nice.”
“You sure?”
I nod.
Nothing else matters right now, not when the warm strokes across my body make my heart sing and my skin tingle. Maybe it is the painkillers, or the fact that I’ve spent the past three days dipping between realities. It’s unclear, but one thing I’m sure of is that Ruslan’s touch is incredible.
His rough, callused hands are soothing against my hip as he strokes upward past the edge of my underwear to my abdomen.
As he cleans, he ensures the covers remain over my body to cover the area he’s not working on and the sheets retain the warmth he leaves behind.
As he cleans over my abdomen, I can’t take my eyes off his face.
“You came for me,” I murmur.
“Let’s not talk about that now,” Ruslan says quietly. “You’ve been through enough. Just rest.”
“What if I want to hear your voice?”
Ruslan’s hands pause on my skin and his eyes flick momentarily up to my face. “Never had that request before.”
“Really?”
He nods.
I close my eyes. “Your voice is so deep and soothing. If I listen, really listen, I can almost feel it right here.” Slowly moving one hand, I rest my fingertips just beneath the hollow of my collarbone. “It’s nice.”
“Interesting.” He resumes the sponge bath. “No one’s ever told me that before.”
“Maybe you’ve been around the wrong people.”
“Maybe. Most people tell me my voice sounds like the echo of a tunnel, but I’m not sure they mean it as a compliment. Or I see people online trying to imitate a deep voice and they sound like they’re about to tear their vocal chords.”
I’d laugh, but Ruslan’s attention over my abdomen and up to my ribs, along with the soothing tones of his voice, is sending my mind in a completely different direction.
I’m hot.
All over.
Flames of heat lick at my limbs and trail after Ruslan’s hands while excitement prickles at the back of my neck each time his hands sweep up toward my breasts.
God, what is wrong with me?
Here he is doing an incredibly gentle, nice thing for me, and all I can think about is how sensitive my skin is, how good his touch is, and how I’m so turned on that I can almost taste the lust on the back of my tongue.
It must be the painkillers. Or some other medication they’ve got me on because there’s no way this is normal.
Ruslan’s on a roll now, telling me all about what he cooked for lunch and the card game he lost against Cassian.
He could be reading out terms and conditions for all I care.
His voice is absolutely honey to me. Subconsciously, my body starts to follow his movements as he washes up to my chest and around my breasts.
The water dampens the edge of my bra as much as my core clenches and dampens my panties.
I’m so caught up in the arousing contact that I moan deeply, certain it’s just in my mind until Ruslan’s hands freeze just below my breasts.
A pulse of fear shoots through me from head to toe and I slowly open my eyes.
“Enjoying yourself?” Ruslan smirks down at me.
My cheeks flare immediately as if I’ve been struck. “Oh, my God,” I whisper, covering my face with my hands. “Oh, my God, that was out loud, wasn’t it?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Ivy?”
“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me, I was just—”
“Ivy.”
“I was just so caught up in everything feeling nice and pain is distant and your hands were—”
“Ivy.”
“Your hands were everywhere and your voice was so soothing and part of me thought maybe I was still dreaming and—ahh!”
Ruslan’s hand thrusts between my thighs and the warm, damp sponge presses firmly against my pussy, soaking my already drenched panties, and a trembling gasp shoots past through my palms. Humiliated, I peek through my fingers at him.
He’s still smiling at me, rather amused, and when our gazes lock, he presses the sponge firmer against my pussy and applies the warm pressure I’ve been craving.
“Oh, God,” I whisper again. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” Ruslan replies, massaging my pussy with the sponge back and forth.
There’s no direct contact. Ruslan uses my own body against me and massages just enough that my outer lips shift and rub against my clit, turning my slowly building desire into rampant shocks of pleasure.
“This is a night for firsts,” Ruslan continues. “An erotic sponge bath? Look at you. I can see how hard your nipples are through your bra and your thighs are locked around my wrist like your life depends on it.”
I want to deny it. I want to tell him he’s wrong to spare myself the embarrassment, but the way he talks just turns me on more, and I fear anything out of me will make him stop what he’s doing. All I can do is stare up at him and lower my hands, panting against my fingers.
“I was doing a nice thing for you and you turned it so dirty.”
He purrs that R sound, and my eyes roll as desire coils hot and low in my stomach. He’s taking me apart, stroke by stroke, and I can’t stand it.
Suddenly, his other hand catches my chin and he pinches my cheeks slightly. “Look at me, Ivy.”
I open my eyes immediately.
“Keep looking at me. I want to see what goes through your eyes when you orgasm from a sponge bath, of all things. Were you always this sensitive? I bet I could bounce you on my knee and you’d come, wouldn’t you?
What about a motorbike? Would the vibrations make you soak the seat?
Or is it just me that can do this, hmm?”
I have no words. No thoughts.
Pleasure has built inside me so slowly that now I’m forced to fully acknowledge it. It’s bubbling over like a simmering pot, and nothing else exists inside me.
Ruslan twists his hand, presses the heel of his palm down firmly, and rubs against my pussy.
That last note of pressure is all I need and I come hard, choking on moans as they surge out of me and past my fingers.
Not once do I look away from Ruslan. Something about the intensity of his gaze keeps me utterly pinned as I shake and quiver under him, my core pulsing rhythmically to the rock of his hand.
“Good girl.”
If I hadn’t just come, I would have come the moment his velvet voice purred out those words just above a whisper. My cheeks burn hotter as he releases me and removes his hand and the sponge from between my legs.
“I wonder just what you’ll do if I gave you the real thing?” Ruslan muses, adjusting the covers over me. The sponge lands in the basin with a splash. “Guess I’ll have to find out one day, hmm?” He winks at me, but before I can reply, the hinges of the door creak and light floods the room.
“Ruslan,” comes Valentina’s voice. “I’m back. Also, you’ve got a call.”
“Thanks. Can you watch her?” He glances over his shoulder. “She’s trembling, not sure if it’s cold or a fever.”
“Sure. You want me to call the doctor?”
“Just stay with her for now.” He shoots me a smirk and then vanishes, leaving me to hide the after effects of my orgasm as Valentina appears.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, her eyes darting over me and then to the basin of water.
“I’m okay,” I croak softly.
“You’re flushed.” Valentina leans forward and presses the back of her fingers to my forehead. “And hot.”
I can’t tell her the truth. I’ll burn up from humiliation, so instead I adjust the covers and seek out a distraction. “I never got to thank you.”
Valentina sits in the chair next to me, frowning slightly. “Thank me?”
“For saving me that day Ruslan and I were kidnapped.”
She waves one elegant hand at me, shaking her head. “It’s what we do. You don’t need to thank me.”
“I do,” I insist. “I’m just me, y’know?”
Valentina’s lips purse. “You’re not just you, Ivy. You’re caught in the middle of something big. You understand that, don’t you?”
The peace from Ruslan’s attention fades in an instant. “I do.”
“And Ruslan is a dangerous man. Do you understand that?”
Is she trying to warn me about something? There’s no way she can know what we were just up to, but there does seem to be concern in her eyes. Ruslan might be dangerous, but compared to everything else? He’s an angel.
I nod slowly. “I know he is.”
“There’s a difference between knowing and understanding, Ivy. You have to be careful.”
Is she trying to warn me away?
It might be too late for that.