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He growls low in his throat. “It’s a graze. And we can talk about it later.”
To punctuate the point, he draws his hips back and slams into me again.
“You shouldn’t have—You have so many people who care about you.” It’s a struggle to keep my voice steady when my body is fighting to get closer to him. “I don’t want you to die to save me. My family isn’t like yours. There isn’t anyone who cares about me. You should—”
He hauls me against him in an instant, dragging me off my back so we are kneeling together, chest to chest. “For fuck’s sake,solnishka.I’ve explained this to you over and over again.”
“Explained what? I don’t know anything. None of this makes any sense to me.”
“Then let me clear things up for you.”
He slides my body up and down his thighs, taking me in slow, steady strokes while he looks into my eyes. He brings his mouth nearly to mine, letting our lips brush with every word.
“I do whatever the fuck I want.”
I start to argue, but he takes my lower lip into his mouth. His tongue swirls against mine, muddying my thoughts and my senses. I’m putty in his hands.
His hand slips between us, thumb circling between my legs. I tip my head back, eyes closed. “You can’t die for me, Ivan.”
“Of course I can.”
His thrusts are shallow now, but I feel like he’s touching the deepest part of me. I want to stay like this with him for as long as possible. Forever, if I had my way.
But I don’t have forever.
We might not even have tomorrow.
So I cling to the bleeding edge of now. We rock together until I’m rolling my hips against him and crying out to the ceiling, dizzy with pleasure.
Slowly, Ivan lays me back on the mattress. He fists a hand in my hair as we collide together. Once, twice, and again and again until he pants out a curse.
I trace the swirling tattoos on his arms as he spills into me. His body flexes with release, then he lets out a long, exhausted sigh. He nuzzles his stubbled face against my neck and, when he talks, his voice is a hoarse whisper in my ear.
“I always get what I want, Cora. And what I want is you.”
60
IVAN
This shit was supposed to be fake.
Every time I look over at her, the light cutting through the window at different angles as the hours pass, I can’t wrap my head around it. How can something that is supposedly fake feel so devastatingly real?
My phone is God only knows where. Aside from a few plates of food Niles has left in front of the door, I haven’t interacted with another soul in well over fourteen hours. We’ve been fucking and talking and doing nothing at all, buttogether.
It’s miraculous.Sheis miraculous.
The fact that she is alive and breathing next to me is the only thing I care about.
All of which is fuckingterrifying.
I sit up and drag a hand through my tangled hair. Cora’s arm is thrown over her head. Her cheek is resting on her elbow, her lips parted like she fell asleep talking. I think she did, actually.
“I’ve never known a guy who wanted to use toys in bed,” she said a few hours ago, still flushed from her fourth—maybe fifth, possibly sixth or seventh or twelfth—orgasm of the night. “They’re always afraid they’ll be replaced.”
“Then you’ve only slept with lesser men.”
She snorted. “You can say that again.”
