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Ivan heard my response and turned me around, his serious emerald eyes fastened on the shallow cut. He leaned forward and his tongue swiping over the jagged skin. The touch of his wet tongue was painful but watching him try to replace Orlov’s touch with his own soothed something deep inside me.
“I hate that he hurt you. Hate that he took you, touched you, terrified you.” He landed a series of kisses over the injury, conveying so much of his feelings with the sweet gesture.
His mouth moved up my chest to my neck, kissing, licking and biting. Then he did something miraculous. He pulled my body against his, taking my hands and wrapping them around his waist.
Urging me to touch him, hold him.
My expression must have conveyed my shock because he gave me a crooked smile. “I know you’ve figured out that physical touch is a bit of…an issue with me. But, right now, I need to feel your touch more than I want to avoid it. When I told you in the car that I wanted to be here with you instead of beating the shit out of Orlov at the warehouse, that was the truth, but it’s so much more. I don’t just want to be here with you, I need it. I need to see you, touch you, assure myself that you’re safe. When Orlov had you, Emmy…”
He paused and stared up at the ceiling for a moment and took a deep breath, his arms tightening around me. “I’ve been through a lot in my life. A lot of pain, misery, betrayal, and grief.” He tipped his head down and pinned me with his gaze. “But nothing compared to how I felt when you were taken from me. Nothing. I know I’ve been all over the fucking place since I started protecting you, but that shit’s over. I’m not going anywhere; you’re not going anywhere.”
I stared up at him, dumbfounded at his confession. Regardless of his awkwardness, bliss and joy skyrocketed inside me, blasting through me like a percussion grenade. To say this day had been filled with the highest highs and the lowest lows would be the understatement of the century.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. “I love you,” I blurted out, unable to stop the words from spilling out. I immediately cringed. The first time he expressed a true interest in having a relationship, I told him I loved him. Smooth, Emmy.
His body stiffened slightly, but I wasn’t sure if it was because of my tight hug or my unexpected confession. I started to pull back, fearing I had gone too far, but his arms closed around me to almost Heimlich levels of tightness.
“I…” he started. He paused and frowned. “My feelings for you are…overwhelming and unfamiliar. I have a hard time identifying them, let alone expressing them. I just know I need you with me.”
His lips pressed together, as if needing to physically stop the flow of words. His features clearly expressed what his words couldn’t—resistance to vulnerability, avoidance of emotionality, discomfort with open communication. It was all there. He may want our relationship, but it was going to take a while for him to actually talk about it on an emotional level.
I nodded and put a hand on his cheek, attempting to calm his evident unease. “I understand. It’s okay,” I reassured him. Of course, I wanted the words, but he’d already been pushed so far out of his comfort zone, I didn’t want him to freak out.
He rubbed my lower lip with his thumb, then leaned down and dropped a soft, thorough kiss on my mouth. His lips drifted over my cheek to my ear, biting lightly on my earlobe.
He pulled back, shaking his head. “How did I find you?”
I smirked. “I believe I found you. Then attached myself to you for hours on end.”
“Thank fuck,” he murmured, taking my mouth with more intensity. His erection pressed against my stomach, throbbing with intent, but he made no move to do more than kiss me. His hand slid gently over my body—one hand sliding up the knobs of my spine to grip the nape of my neck, the other gliding over the curve of my ass.
His gentle, reverent caresses had me practically levitating. Before too long, the combination of his soft, relentless kisses and his strong, muscled body sliding wetly against mine had heat building between my legs.
“Ivan,” I whimpered, shifting against him, signaling my growing desire, my hands moving to grip the hard cheeks of his ass.
He pulled back and gave me an assessing look. “Are you sure?”
“I’m okay, I swear.”
Still, he paused, green eyes stabbing into mine, as if trying to penetrate my brain to be sure that I was okay.
“Please, Ivan, I need you,” I whimpered again, moving my mouth to his neck and covering it with biting kisses. I’d never had an opportunity to explore his body; his need for control hadn’t allowed any space for it. I was giddy with this new freedom to touch and kiss him, excited at the idea of leaving marks on his body as he had left them on mine.
As I continued to softly suck on his neck, pulling his skin between my teeth and scoring it lightly, he reached up and threaded his fingers in my hair. “What the fuck, Emmy?” he rasped. “Are you giving me a hickey?” he asked in shock, as if he hadn’t given me tons.
“Mhm,” I replied, giving his neck one last kiss and pulled away to admire the red discolored spot on his neck.
He reached up and rubbed his neck where my lips had been, a strange look on his face. He didn’t look mad, exactly. More like confusion.
“Does it bother you?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious.
“No, it’s just…I’ve never had one before. It’s a strange adjustment. All of this is an adjustment,” he said, either referring to the way he was allowing me to touch him or being in a relationship, in general. Then he broke out into a smirk. “However, I can’t say I don’t understand the instinct to mark your territory.”
I smiled in relief. “This way when you have to go to the Trinity Club to chat with strippers, they know you’re off limits,” I replied tartly.
He grimaced and gave a long sigh, but pulled me closer, rubbing his hard dick against me, as if he wanted to remind me it was still there. “I can explain all that, Em. It’s not what it looked like, I swear.”
“I believe you, but I still want to hear the whole story.”
