Chapter 38
IVAN
Even though we didn’t get to the bottom of the attack on James like I had hoped we would today, we at least have a solid plan in place for the meeting this weekend. And I’m more than ready to finally catch this motherfucker and introduce him to my fist.
By the time we pull into Korona’s underground garage, exhaustion weighs on every muscle in my body.
But the moment I think about seeing Melani, my pulse kicks up a notch.
It’s two in the morning, so she’s probably asleep—I did tell her not to wait for me.
Still, I don’t care. I can’t wait to have her in my arms and hear what she thought about her roses.
Luka and I step out of the car together and stride towards the elevator. “Linda Fontana is a wild card,” he says. “You need to keep her locked tight so she doesn’t interfere with our plans this weekend.”
It mirrors almost exactly what Aleksei said to me before I left the castle. He had found out about her snooping and thinks she might try to show up this weekend since she was sneaky enough to get her hands on the meeting details. He’s right.
“Good thing we have her as our guest then,” I reply as we step into the elevator. “I’ll talk to her about it.” In other words, I’ll handle her.
“And Melani?”
“What about Melani?”
“Will she be a problem? She probably knows about the meeting too, after that conversation she had with her mother last night.”
“She won’t be a problem.”
I’ll make sure of it.
We didn’t really resolve anything last night, but she knows better than to try something reckless like showing up at that meeting. Besides, how would she even get out of the suite? My men have eyes on her at all times. She won’t be a problem.
The rest of the elevator ride passes in silence. When the doors open, Luka and I part ways outside my suite. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” I tell him, stepping inside, and he nods.
Boris is waiting for me. Standing in the middle of the room at two in the morning, shoulders tight, his brows pulled together. The particular expression of a man preparing to deliver bad news and dreading the delivery. My gut knots. “Melani?”
“She’s fine,” he assures me and nods towards her bedroom. “She fell asleep a few hours ago.”
The knot loosens—only to cinch tight again at the look still on his face. “What is it then?”
“She had her breakfast at Tavaria today.”
The words don’t fully register for a second. Then they do, and my vision fizzes out at the edges. I take a dangerous step towards him. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“She showed me the elevator card—said you’d given her permission to eat at the restaurant. Then we also—” he clears his throat, “ended up doing a full tour of the building…” His voice trails off as he realizes he’s fucked up.
I close the distance between us and grab him by the throat. “What elevator card?”
The blood drains from his face. “T-the m-ma-ster keycard. It was with her, sir. She said—”
“I gave her nothing.” I squeeze harder, cutting off his air.
“You took the word of my prisoner over your standing orders and granted her freedom?” The word prisoner feels wrong in my mouth as soon as I say it, but I don’t correct myself.
“Do you want to end up worse than Igor?” The man who was first assigned to Melani thought he could lecture me about her well-being.
The idiot is lucky I only demoted him to street work.
A strangled gurgle is his only answer, and I ease my grip just enough for him to breathe. “She had my master keycard?” I repeat.
He nods as much as he can with my hand still around his neck. “She asked me to call you to confirm, but you said not to call unless the suite was on fire.”
I glance towards Melani’s bedroom, and the emotion that moves through me isn’t what I expected. It isn’t fury. It’s something closer to pride. That little—that gorgeous, smart woman. My woman.
I release Boris’s throat, and he crumples to the floor, sucking in desperate breaths. “This is the only pass you get,” I tell him as I walk away.
Despite the storm of emotions coursing through me, I’m careful when I open Melani’s bedroom door.
I move quietly towards her, my chest tightening at the sight of the roses I got her, now arranged in a pretty vase on her nightstand.
She’s curled up on her side under the covers, a paperback lying open near her hip like she lost the fight against sleep mid-page.
I go on my haunches next to the bed and run my hand gently down her hair.
She stirs, muttering under her breath as she rolls towards me.
Fuck.
A fist closes around my heart, squeezing so hard I can’t breathe—can’t see. When my vision clears, her eyes are open.
“You’re back,” she whispers, her lips curving into a sleepy smile that knocks the breath out of me all over again.
“You sleep in my room now,” I say gruffly, already sliding an arm beneath her neck and the other behind her knees. Then I lift her against my chest and rise to my feet.
“Okay,” she says sweetly, her voice soft and drowsy as she nuzzles into me.
When I walk out of the room with her in my arms, Boris is still standing there, rubbing his throat.
“We’ll continue this tomorrow,” I tell him, and he leaves without a word.
I carry Melani to my room and lay her down carefully. She sinks back into the pillow without opening her eyes, already halfway gone again.
A quick shower later, I pull on a pair of sweatpants and crawl into bed next to her, sleep dragging me under almost just as fast.
Heated pleasure rips me out of sleep.
My body jerks against the mattress as my eyes fly open, chest tightening as I try to breathe past the pressure coiling low in my gut. It takes a second to understand what’s happening—why my cock feels like it’s being swallowed whole. Melani.
She’s at the foot of the bed, knees tucked beneath her, mouth stretched wide around me.
Her tongue drags along the underside of my cock while her hand rolls my balls in slow, teasing circles.
The sight of her there damn near punches the air out of me, and my cock throbs hard in her throat, slick and burning hot.
“Fuck,” I groan, my voice raw and barely human, my hips kicking up without permission to drive my cock deeper into her mouth, and she takes it.
Her eyes flick up to mine, bright even with the tears gathering from how far down her throat I am. She hums around me in response, and the vibration rips a harsher curse from my chest.
My hand shoots out, my fingers threading into her hair as I grab hold.
She pulls back slowly, lips wet and swollen, only to take me in again, inch by agonizing inch. The suction is strong. Deliberate. I can’t think. I can’t fucking think. My jaw locks, chest heaving, every nerve wired to the way she’s working me.
“Jesus Christ,” I grit out, dragging my free hand over my face, but I can’t close my eyes, can’t tear my eyes away from her.
Her grip tightens around my balls, tugging gently while her mouth slides down my cock again, her tongue flattening beneath it.
My stomach clenches, sweat dampening my chest as control slips straight through my fingers.
I fist her hair properly and guide her down, forcing more of me into her mouth until the tip is scraping her tonsils.
She gags and chokes, saliva dripping down her chin, and my cock throbs harder at the sight.
I pull her head back slowly, giving her a moment to breathe before shoving her down again.
Her throat works, her eyes watering as she takes me deeper and deeper.
A broken groan tears out of me, my head digging back into the pillow as my balls draw up tightly. She fucking has me. Undone. And I hate it. I fucking hate how much power she has over me—and I love it even more.
The need claws through me, sharp and brutal, shredding the last scraps of my control. I press her head down once more, harder this time, and she sputters around me.
“You can fucking take me, Milani,” I snarl, my voice low, savage with need.
“And you’re going to take me.” She does.
Her lips stay sealed around me like the good girl she is, her throat working as I thrust deeper, tears streaming down her cheeks now, mixing with the saliva slicking her chin. My messy girl. Moya.
The wet, choking sounds she makes tear me apart and push me over the edge.
“Fuck, Milani—” The growl rips from my chest as my back arches, my cock pulsing as I empty into her.
She takes it all, swallowing without hesitation, her eyes never leaving mine.
I watch her greedily. Watch how she drags her tongue along my length, collecting the warm blend of semen and saliva, lapping it up.
When a bead escapes the corner of her mouth, she catches it with the tip of her tongue and swipes her lips clean.
I curse at how fucking hot that is, my cock jerking despite being fully spent.
But she doesn’t stop. Her mouth stays on me, closed around my softening cock, sucking gentle, teasing tugs that light every nerve I have left. My spine tingles, my eyes rolling back as the sensation turns almost unbearable. It’s too much.
“Enough.” I pull her off me, and she lifts her head with the most innocent smile, like she didn’t just almost suck my soul out of my body.
I sit up and grab her under the arms, hauling her up onto the bed before flipping her onto her back.
She lets out a startled gasp, but I’m already moving, crawling down her body.
My hands slide under her thighs, lifting them and hooking them over my shoulders as I yank her closer until her pussy is right in my face.
The sight has me swearing under my breath.
She’s wet. Soaked.
“Did sucking me off make you this needy?” I murmur, dragging two fingers through her folds.
The squelch makes my cock twitch back to life embarrassingly fast. I smear her wetness over her swollen clit, then slide back down to her entrance, spreading the mess all over.
“Of course it did. Your pussy knows exactly what your mouth was doing and now it wants its turn.”
She lets out a deep moan, her back arching at my words. I thrust two fingers into her, hard and deep, and she jolts up the bed with a sharp cry of my name. My other hand clamps around her hip, holding her in place.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I lower my mouth to her before she can answer and draw my tongue through her folds in one long, slow stroke that makes her gasp like I’ve stolen the air from her lungs.
A groan tears from my chest as her taste explodes on my tongue—addictive, sweet, fucking perfect.
I could spend hours buried here and still never get enough.
I devour her like I’ve been starving, my mouth and tongue working over every wet inch of her while my fingers sink into her tight, dripping heat.
She thrashes, gasping and moaning and twisting under me, but I don’t let up.
I want her cum, and I want it now. My grip tightens as my tongue flicks her clit faster and my fingers curl deep inside her.
Her back arches clean off the bed, and she screams my name into the ceiling, her body convulsing as her thighs clamp around my neck so tight my breath cuts short. And I love every single moment.
She shatters with my name on her lips, her cunt clenching around my fingers, her whole body trembling in my hold, and I groan at the way she falls apart, utterly undone.
When the last shudder moves through her, and she goes still, I slide my fingers out of her cunt and drag them across her quivering stomach.
Then, with deliberate strokes, I write one word on her skin.
Mine.