by Zoe Blake
I thrust forward, feeling the tight squeeze of her entrance muscles, and I forced the head inside. It finally slipped past her tight ring.
“Oh, God! Take it out. It hurts.”
I rubbed her back. “It’s supposed to hurt, baby.” I didn’t tell her it was about to get a lot worse.
I gripped her hips and pulled her body back slightly. She bent forward.
I slid in another few inches. The skin around her tight ring smoothed out and turned white as it stretched to accommodate the thick width of my cock.
“Please, Ivan,” she whimpered.
I reached around her hip and pushed my fingers between her legs. I rubbed her clit as I pushed in another few inches. It took all my restraint to go slowly and not thrust to the hilt as her sweet body clenched tightly around my shaft.
I pulled out until just the head remained and then thrust in again. Her body relented.
She moaned as I pinched her clit. “That’s it, baby girl. Let me in.”
I kept one hand on her pussy, and palmed her breast with the other. I pulled her up till her back was flush with my chest. If she remained completely bent over, I knew I would pound into her too hard and fast. If she was upright, my cock wouldn’t pierce her too deeply. It was a minor concession I was willing to make, but only for her first time. The next time I took her I would drive in to the hilt till she screamed my name.
Keeping her clasped to my body, I thrust in and out, relishing the clench as her body reacted to the intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure. Her small body lifted with the power of each thrust. I knew I wouldn’t last long. She was too tight, the pleasure too intense.
I quickened my pace, feeling the pressure build.
Her arms swung up to reach behind her. She clasped me around the neck as her body arched. I rubbed her clit harder as I neared my own release. Her ribs expanded as she sucked in a deep breath and held it. I knew that meant she was right there. I tweaked her clit and her body jerked within my embrace as a powerful orgasm shook her. I held her weight against me as her knees buckled. Pushing her forward, I let her hang limply over my arm as I finally gave full rein to my lust.
I thrust into her again and again. I gripped her hip so tightly she was sure to have bruises as I pushed in as deeply as I dared one last time. My release tore through me, filling her.
I carefully pulled free and turned her into my embrace. Clasping her to my chest, I let the hot water stream over our bodies as my heartbeat slowed back to normal.
After a few moments, she lifted her head to stare up at me. I cupped her face, caressing my thumb along her cheekbone, careful to avoid the bruise. If I could, I would kill the man all over again for hitting her. I would never forgive myself that this happened on my watch, while she was under my protection.
I should have known Harold would have an accomplice in the States. I’d arrogantly assumed because I had retrieved the money that it was over, and I could focus on the more pleasurable pursuit of fucking Dylan. Because of my oversight, I had left her vulnerable to attack.
It was a mistake I wouldn’t make twice.
From this point forward, I was keeping her under lock and key. No more games. No more her disobeying me and doing just as she pleased. No more denying she was now mine.
She searched my face. “Did you really kill him?”
“Yes. Both of them.” There was no point in lying. I wasn’t ashamed of what I’d done, and I would do it again if necessary.
She blinked. “What happens now?”
I poured some shampoo into my palm and lathered it before spearing my fingers into her long hair. “Now, you let me take care of you.”
She closed her eyes as I massaged her scalp. “That’s not what I meant.”
I tilted her head back and kissed her lips. “I know. What do you want me to say, Dylan?”
She opened her eyes. “The truth.”
I stepped forward, forcing her back against the shower wall. I placed a palm on either side of her head, caging her in. “The truth is I’m a cold-hearted, selfish bastard who has every intention of keeping you for myself. I don’t know why you are different from any other woman I’ve ever met, and I don’t care. I want what I want, and I have absolutely no intentions of letting you go.”
She turned her head to the side. “What if I… what if I don’t—”
I cut her off. “Don’t even bother finishing that sentence, because I’m going to tell you right now, I don’t give a damn.”
“What?”
“I. Don’t. Give. A. Damn. What you want is immaterial to me. You’re mine and I’m keeping you. Fight it all you want. It won’t change anything.”
“You can’t do this.”
“It’s already done.”
Her mouth opened and closed. For once, I had left her speechless.
I ran the back of my knuckles down her cheek and over her jaw. I then wrapped my hand gently around her throat. “There is no one to protect you from me. No one to stop me from taking what I want. If you were honest with yourself, you’d stop fighting me and admit it’s what you want too.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not! I never wanted this, any of this. If you had any shred of decency or soul you’d let me go.”
My lips quirked up in a mirthless smile. “I never claimed to be decent, and my soul was lost to the devil long ago, but you… you just might be my salvation.”
I claimed her mouth. Plunging my tongue inside, needing to taste her. I placed a hand under her knee and raised her leg to hook it over my hip as I pushed my already hard cock between her legs. I was insatiable when it came to her.
Besides, that last time had been wasted. I needed to fill her with my seed as often as possible if I were to bind her to me with a child. A baby would stop all of her protests and she’d learn to accept her circumstances. The thought of her belly heavy with my son made me want to chain her to the bed and fuck her until it was a reality.
Afterwards, I carried her to the bed and tucked her in. I watched her sleep while I made several calls to the numerous top end clothing and jewelry stores that lined Michigan Avenue. By the end of the day, she would have a wardrobe fit for a queen.
And a fucking winter coat.
Chapter 20
Dylan
Ivan insisted on bundling me up in a blanket as he carried me out to his car.
Mary had lent me a pair of leggings, a black sweater, and a pair of pink Ugg boots to wear. I was embarrassed beyond belief when Ivan had to ask for them, but Mary assured me with a wink that Vaska had ruined more dresses than she could count.
She was going to lend me a coat, but both Ivan and Vaska started yelling when they realized all of her coats were more for fashion than warmth. Mary and I exchanged a look. It must be a Russian thing, this insistence on warm winter clothes.
We left as Vaska was putting one of his coats over her shoulders and insisting on taking her shopping.
I huddled deeper into the blanket as we rode silently to Ivan’s hotel. I must have slept longer than I realized because it was now dark. When I tried to think on the events of the last few days, my head ached. I wished I could just make everything stop, if only for a little while. Just long enough for me to grasp the magnitude of what was happening.
My stomach rumbled loudly. Mortified, I wrapped my arms tightly around my middle and clenched, trying to make it stop.
Ivan glanced over from the driver’s seat. He frowned. “When did you eat last?”
“Do tequila shots and a handful of Doritos count?”
His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel harder. “No, they do not,” he ground out.
“Then breakfast.”
“The breakfast I ordered earlier?”
I nodded.
“The one where you barely finished half a slice of toast and only ate a few fucking strawberries?”
I tucked my chin deeper into the blankets as I squeaked, “Yes.” I had been way too nervous this morning to eat anything. The
n the rest of the day had become such a freaking train wreck it hadn’t even occurred to me to be hungry until now.
Ivan cursed under his breath as we turned into the hotel parking garage. I looked for a hotel sign but didn’t see one. We were also on a small, rather posh residential street. It must be some kind of super top secret villain lair type hotel not available to us common people.
We circled the parking garage till he reached the top. Once again, his was the only car within view. As he turned off the car, I reached for the door handle.
“Don’t even think about it.”
Cowed, I stayed put as I waited for him to circle around the vehicle and open my door. There was no point in protesting as he insisted on carrying me into his hotel suite. As we entered, my mouth dropped at the racks of clothes and large white boxes piled up on every available surface. Ivan didn’t really seem the type to enjoy shopping.
Ivan set me down on the sofa. Before letting me go, he pulled the blanket tighter around me. He crossed to the desk and pushed several boxes aside and lifted the phone receiver. As he waited for it to connect, he gestured toward the boxes and clothes. “I’ll let you go through those later.”
My head tilted to the side as I surveyed all the boxes. Why on earth would he want me to look over his purchases? I certainly knew nothing about men’s fashion and judging by the super sexy way he dressed in expensive tailored suits and sweaters, he definitely didn’t need any help from me in that regard.
Ivan’s voice broke into my musings. “Yes, hello, send up your entire room service menu. I want one of everything.”
Shocked, I shifted in my seat to lean up on my knees as I gripped the back of the sofa. “What are you doing?” I whispered.
He waved me off. “Yes, that’s what I said, one of everything. And a couple of bottles of wine. The Louis Latour should be fine.”
The freaking Louis Latour? Did he just order a couple of super expensive bottles of wine like he was tossing a couple of iced teas on the bill?
Ivan hung the phone up.
I turned with a huff and sat back down on the sofa. “Are you crazy? We’ll never eat all that food.”
He shrugged as he pulled off the T-shirt Vaska had given him. “I didn’t know what you’d like to eat.”
“You could have just asked.”
He sat down beside me on the sofa and played with a lock of my hair. Since it had air-dried, it fell over my shoulders in a wavy, wild tangle. “This way will be more fun.”
Fun?
What is happening?
Why is he being so nice and… boyfriend-like?
I shifted as far away as possible, with my lower back pressed against the sofa arm. I gestured toward him. “Can you please put a shirt on?”
Ivan smirked. It really was unfair how the scar on his lip made him look like a freaking sexy pirate. The tattoos and heavy chain certainly didn’t help.
He wrapped his hand around my neck as he leaned in. “Why? Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off me?”
I flew off the sofa, leaving the blanket behind. I crossed the room to the clothes racks. I tugged on the vampire T-shirt to make sure it was covering my ass as much as possible, since the thin black leggings left little to the imagination.
The garment bags were an alphabet soup of the who’s who of top end fashion: Diane Von Furstenberg, Oscar de la Renta, Vera Wang, Tom Ford, Gucci, Prada.
Ivan leaned back, stretching his arms over the top of the sofa. He nodded toward the clothes racks. “Try something on for me while we wait for our food.”
I looked quickly between him and the clothes. I shook my head, then pointed to my chest. “Wait. These are for me?”
“Of course,” he responded nonchalantly, as if it were no big deal to see an entire hotel room filled with expensive designer clothes.
For one torturous half second, I relished the idea of getting to wear the type of clothes I’d always dreamed of. It would be heavenly to feel their soft silks and taffetas next to my skin and know they were new, not secondhand, worn-out, thrift store knockoffs. Clothes and jewels, especially pearls, really were my weaknesses. When I finally had some money, I didn’t want a big house or fancy car. I wanted pretty clothes and a classy strand of pearls like the glamorous women from the old movies. The ones with brass and sass who were independent and quick-witted like Bette Davis and Barbara Stanwyck. They always seemed to wear pearls when they fired off their comebacks that set the men back on their heels.
I backed away from the temptation. “I can’t accept any of this.”
Ivan’s gaze narrowed. The energy in the room shifted. “It wasn’t a request.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t need any handouts from you. I make my own money and can buy my own clothes.”
Ivan ran his hand over his jaw. “I don’t know how I can be clearer, moy malen’kaya kukla. You no longer have a place to live, because I will not allow you to return to that hole you call an apartment. You no longer have a job, because I have no intentions of allowing my woman to put herself at risk by prancing about empty homes with strange men.”
His little doll.
That is what he keeps calling me in Russian.
His little doll.
Something to be clothed and played with, a toy, a possession, nothing more.
My heart raced as he rose and crossed the room to where I stood.
He stroked my cheek. “The clothes on your back, the food you eat, the bed you rest your pretty head in—will all come from me, from this point forward.”
I swallowed. Perhaps there was a way to reason with him. After all, what he was saying was impossible. “Even if I were to agree, which I don’t, what happens when you return to Russia in a few weeks? You will have destroyed everything I’ve worked for up till this point.”
My life might be hard and filled with fake pearls and fake coffee creamer, but at least it was an honest living, one I had fought hard to achieve. Believe me, following in the criminal footsteps of my family would have been far easier, but then I may have shared the fate of my doomed uncles.
“I’m taking you with me.”
“What?”
“You didn’t think I was leaving you here? No. You are coming with me.”
“With you? To Russia?”
“Of course.”
Never in my life had I thought I would ever have an occasion to utter this sentence. “I’m not going to Russia with you.”
Ivan shrugged. “Then it’s a good thing I had no intention—”
I threw my arms up and covered my ears with my palms. “I swear to God if you say it’s a good thing you weren’t going to ask my permission, I’m going to start screaming and never stop.”
My body shook.
Ivan pulled me into his arms. He stroked my hair as he pressed his lips to the top of my head. “Moya bednaya devochka, tebe nuzhno perestat’ drat’sya so mnoy.”
I sniffed. “I don’t understand.”
He cupped my face and tilted my head back. After staring into my eyes, he kissed my forehead. “I said, my poor baby girl, you need to stop fighting me.”
I did not have the will to resist the strength of his arms. Everything about my life was cold and hard and he was so warm. I leaned my cheek against his bare chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart. I didn’t object when he swept me into his arms and carried me back to the sofa. When he sat me on his lap, I closed my eyes and leaned my head against his shoulder, giving in to the comfort he offered.
My eyes flew open when he tugged on the hem of my T-shirt. “What are you—”
I didn’t even finish my question before he pulled it over my head. I should feel vulnerable and naked; instead, the skin-to-skin warmth of his body was hypnotically soothing.
Ivan leaned over and dumped the contents of a large black glossy shopping bag onto the coffee table. Several red and gold boxes tumbled out. On the top of each, in delicate script, was the name Cartier.
He opened the
first box and pulled out a long, hundred-inch strand of perfectly matched large ivory pearls. He draped the necklace over my head. Before I could object, he placed a finger over my lips. “Don’t say a word. Indulge me.”
He wrapped the necklace over my head a second time. The strand was cool against my skin as the pearls settled between my breasts.
Ivan then reached over and opened a second box, then a third. They also contained long strands of pearls.
“Ivan…” I breathed, unable to even form the words.
He wrapped the pearls around my throat, letting them cascade over my chest in a luminous waterfall of iridescent bubbles.
He gathered the strands in his palm. The back of his knuckles brushed my exposed nipple. His voice was a low, seductive growl. “You cannot object to these after I heartlessly ruined your other pearl necklace. I owed you a replacement.”
I stared at his mouth. Fucking hell, why did this man have to be so dirty sexy wrong?
I licked my lips. “Technically, my pearls were cheap plastic imitations.”
He stroked my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “Pretend that is what these are.”
“If I accept them, what will you want in return?”
Holy hell, did I just say that?
Am I... am I flirting with him?
Ivan raised a single eyebrow. He grasped the pearls and used them to pull me closer. His warm breath caressed my cheek when he growled, “Everything.”
He moved to claim my mouth, and God help me, I leaned into his embrace, but just then there was a knock on the door. “Room service.”
Chapter 21
Ivan
I held the cheeseburger up. “This is good, but not as good as McDonald’s.”
Dylan laughed as she snatched a fry from my plate, which was balanced on the sofa cushions between us. “That’s funny.”
It was nice to hear her laugh. In our limited time together, I had seen her frown and heard her yell, moan, and scream, but not laugh. I would have to make her laugh more often.
“I’m serious.”
She brushed the salt from her fingers as she reached for her wineglass. “No, you’re not. You can’t honestly be comparing any cheeseburger to a McDonald’s cheeseburger?”
