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Then I hear a voice.
“Do it again,” Ivan growls. “I want to watch.”
44
CORA
Am I still imagining this?
I look over to see Ivan standing just outside the glass partition. His shirt is off, the lines of his tattoos dark against his skin. He’s watching me carefully. His eyes are almost black with wanting.
I should be scared. My heart is thundering, but it’s almost like some small part of me expected him to be here.
“You didn’t knock,” I say softly. As if that matters. He could have blown through an entire wall to be in here now and I still wouldn’t kick him out.
He steps into the shower wearing nothing but a pair of black briefs. My eyes snag on the impressive length tenting the material before I whip my attention back to his face.
Ivan moves close around me and gently pulls the wand from my hand. He flicks the switch on, then presses it back between my fingers. I jolt and bite my lip to stop from crying out.
“I came to check on you,” he whispers against my neck. “I heard my name.”
Any embarrassment I might feel is burned away in the inferno that roars through me as Ivan situates his length between my thighs.
His other hand grips my hip. I look down just as a streak of pink water flows down my leg. I frown at it, confused. Until my gaze slides up to Ivan’s arm.
“You’re bleeding.” Even as the words leave my mouth, I know they aren’t true.
It isn’t his blood.
I’ve seen him kill before. I watched him pull the trigger. Now, he’s here, covered in blood… and all I want is to lick him clean.
Fuck, I’m sick.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Ivan orders.
I lay my head against his shoulder and close my eyes. “Are you as dangerous as everyone says?”
“No.” He turns and kisses my throat before his lips move to my ear. “I’m worse.”
I should stop this. If I was smart, I would tell Ivan to leave. I would hold firm to the boundaries I set, let him save me from whoever is after me, and then go back to my normal life without a single glance in the rearview mirror.
But maybe… maybe this is all my imagination. Maybe this is a vivid fantasy. A pocket of time where I can have what I want and not be punished for it. Where I can be the damsel and Ivan, as bloody and dark and wildly wrong for me as he is, can be my knight.
“Ivan?”
I whisper it so softly I’m not sure if he can even hear me over the shower. But of course he does. He slides his hand up my stomach, his thumb brushing the underside of my breast.
“Fuck me. Please.”
His amber eyes flare bright. “My pleasure.”
45
IVAN
I was in her room listening to the shower run. I planned to walk away. It was late and being there after everything that happened tonight was a mistake.
Then she said my name.
