12

Christina

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“Ivan, it’s almost nine o’clock. I really do have to go home soon, at the very least to relieve the nurse.” I moan as he licks all over my neck.

This man is insatiable. I have lost count of how many times he has fucked me and the number of orgasms I have had. Even when he wasn’t fucking me he was buried inside me like he is right now.

The only exception was for almost thirty whole minutes when he cooked me dinner and fed me, ending with the dessert of his cock in my mouth. He wouldn’t even give me five minutes while I called Abuelo and used the excuse of work for being late. Ivan had me sitting on his cock and was playing with my breasts as I tried not to gasp at what he was doing to me.

I have studied every inch of his gorgeous body, my prize for him staying inside me. Licking my way over his muscled chest, tracing my fingertips over what I swear is not a six-pack but an eight-pack. I can’t get enough of him so I don’t really mind his greedy hunger for my body.

Nothing about today was what I imagined it would be. It’s incredibly intimate, not just the sex. It’s the way Ivan mounted a full-scale interrogation of my most personal thoughts, memories, and likes. He wanted to know everything from my favorite foods, favorite artist, to when I knew I wanted to paint. At first, he wasn’t as open about his past as he demanded me to be, but when I told him that I wouldn’t answer his questions until he answered mine he changed his mind.

This was supposed to be just mindless fucking, except it felt nothing like it, or maybe I’m wrong. Considering this is only the second relationship I’ve ever had, but it doesn’t feel like it. I don’t want to go home. But I also don’t want to face a questioning Abuelo and I’m exhausted in the best way.

His hands go into my hair. Why do I love it so much when he does that? He licks my bottom lip before sucking on it. I swear it goes straight to my clit and I clench tight around his cock. Ouch.

He pulls back. “Are you okay?”

His concern hits me right in the tummy. I bury my head in his chest. “I’m sore. I’m sorry.”

He swears in three different languages. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so damn sorry.” Gently, he lifts me off him. “I wanted you sore but I never meant to hurt you.”

The tortured expression on his face tears at me. I press my hand against his cheek. “Hey, it’s okay—”

Shaking his head, he grasps my wrist. “No, it isn’t. Damn it, Christina, don’t let me off easy. I should have stopped sooner. You’re not just mine to have but to protect and take care of. Nothing hurts you. Not even me.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, it will definitely ruin this. Ivan keeps backing away from me. It would be funny if the moment didn’t feel so charged with emotion. I do the only thing I can think of: I’m able to grasp his cock. He hardens, I go down on my knees. My mouth waters for him. I’m wondering if I’m a weirdo for how much I love taking him in my mouth.

The few times Brandon had asked me to, I couldn’t even bring myself to touch him. Once he pressed it against my lips and I gagged. He never asked again.

But with Ivan, god, even sore I’m aching to have him inside me. Once today, I was so turned on I almost came without even touching myself.  Licking the tip of him, his gasp has me smiling. I look up at him.

“I’m sore, really sore, but you didn’t hurt me.”

Gripping him tightly, the way he likes, I stroke down to the velvety soft sacs that for some crazy reason fascinate me. Carefully, I massage them before taking them into my mouth. He groans, trying to pull away. My name is a moan. I love it. I’m on my knees in front of this big, tall, gorgeous man bulging with muscles with maybe two percent body fat. And I’m the one in control this time.

Sucking lightly on the tip of his cock, I swirl my tongue around. I press a kiss to the slit. Then I stand, still holding him in my hand.

“I won’t keep going if you’re going to continue beating yourself up. You didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to. You have given me so much pleasure, there is a part of me terrified I’ll wake up and it will all be another dream. So many dreams of you and what today might have been, and none of them came close to how amazing it was. Don’t end this day with regret, for anything, please.”

Both hands cup my face, he leans his forehead against mine. Our eyes meet and hold and okay, I understand what eye-fucking means. This man is truly gifted. My clit is tingling from what he is doing and his hands are only on my cheeks. But it’s the tender way he’s holding me that is twisting me up inside.

“You drive a hard bargain. I cannot deny you when you ask so sweetly.”

Brushing a thumb over my bottom lip, he smiles. I could get addicted to his smiles.

“As much as I want you, I swear if you say no and mean it, I will honor that. Every time, I promise.”

I can’t help laughing. “I really don’t see that happening, but it’s nice to know.” Grasping him again, I sigh with pleasure. I savor the feel of him, soft and silky, so damn hot, pulsing with his heartbeat.

He shakes his head. Pressing a kiss to the edge my mouth, he grips my wrist and pulls me away. “No, if you cannot come right now then neither can I.”

Before I can argue he picks me up and carries me into the bathroom. I like the way he carries me around, after all these years of being told I was a fat-ass, when Ivan carries me, he makes me feel small and protected.

Sitting on the edge of the enormous bathtub that is more like a jacuzzi, I finally get a chance to take in the room. Damn, he is rich. The room is huge, done in white marble on the floor and the walls. Gleaming silver fixtures are so shiny I wonder if they are actually silver. Since I don’t see a toilet I can only assume a closed door leads to it.

There is a walk-in shower the size of my entire bathroom with so many showerheads and jets I lose count as the scent of Ivan hits me. Hmm...grass, rain, leather, I see the oil spin in the water. He presses a button and jets go into motion. Leaning over, he settles me into the water. Hot, ow, it takes a minute to get used to it. I grab my hair, I don’t want it wet.

“Can you please grab my clip from my purse?”

He nods and I enjoy the sight of his firm ass walking away. It felt even better than it looked. When he comes back he’s wearing his sweats again.

I pout. “You aren’t getting in with me?”

A firm shake of his head. “I told you already, I touch you and I lose control. Take your time and enjoy it. It should help with the soreness.” He hits a button on a rack holding big, fluffy white towels. “So they are nice and hot when you get out.”

He’s gone before I can argue. I give up and enjoy it as ordered.

When my fingers get wrinkly, I hit the button to turn off the jets and empty it. The towel is heaven as I dry off and wrap it around me.

He’s cleaned up the bedroom, I blush remembering the mess one of the condoms made when he changed it in a dirty hot rush. There is a brand-new dark green velvet wrap dress on the bed with a tag still on it. I chuckle at the length—the hem goes all the way to my ankles.

I feel Ivan’s eyes on me and turn to find him in the open doorway. His jeans are worn and faded in spots, caressing him like I want to. The black polo is supposed to be casual but screams expensive. One day this is going to fade, right? I won’t turn into a puddle of goo every time I see him, eventually.

“You are so beautiful.”

The words are filled with awe. I work to take in air. I move and he backs away.

“I guess it is a good thing I am taking you home.”

All at once I want to take it all back. The idea of sleeping through the night in his arms, waking up with him in the morning...next week for two whole weeks will have to be soon enough. I grab my purse, and he takes my hand.

He opens the door for me to his car. I like it isn’t a flashy car. It’s a black Maybach with leather, so it’s not cheap, but it isn’t a half-million-dollar car like some men felt the need to drive. “Lawrence drives you in your car? I don’t know why I assumed he was from a service.”

“I used a service in New York because it made sense. However, here in Chicago it is not such an issue parking and driving, so I prefer the freedom of having my own car when I want and not waiting for a service to come.”

I smooth the dress down as I put on my seat belt. I catch him watching my movement. “Thank you for my new dress, even though I think you have bought me more than enough clothes. I can’t believe how much money you spent.”

My hand is enveloped in his, he squeezes lightly.

“I ripped your dress. I owed you another. The money was a pittance. I have spent more than that on a single dress for one of my sisters. I did not like how embarrassed you felt about not having more clothes.

“You are a beautiful woman. I do not want you for a moment doubting that. If buying you the clothes to help you feel better about yourself was what I needed to do, I would happily spend five times what I did every month.”

I’m grateful it’s dark and he can’t see me smiling. “I thought it was because you were embarrassed by me.”

“Never, how could you think that?” He sounds insulted.

“You said it. You said I dressed frumpy and I did.”

He sighs as he squeezes my hand. “I did not mean to hurt your feelings. I was attempting to push you away, create distance between us. I am sorry. I also knew you were hiding and I did not like that thought at all.”

“You sound like Abuelo. I was worried he would get upset at the clothes, but he was happy. Of course I lied and told him that I bought them for my role at your insistence.”

“Good to know we agree on that. Is there anything I should know before I meet him in order to not offend him?”

“What?”

“I am coming in with you in order to announce our engagement. To not do so would most definitely offend him.”

I hate that he’s right—it totally would. “Or is it to make sure I keep my mouth shut about it being a fake engagement? I told you that I wouldn’t tell him. I swear you are such a control freak, you should see someone for that.”

Ivan chuckles. “To create the illusion, we have to go through every step as if we were not faking this. And you love my control freak tendencies, your pussy is wet just thinking of it.”

He isn’t wrong. I am positive I am a freak for loving how controlling he is. I also can’t sum up much angst for it. He’s giving in on me going home. He made me dinner. Then there were the clothes, the way he told me how he’s mine not just to fuck but to take care of me. From everything he has done so far, it wasn’t just talk.

“It’s annoying how well you know me. I just don’t think it’s the best idea for you to introduce yourself to Abuelo. What does it really matter in the end?”

“It matters. I told you the more real it seems from the outside, the easier it will be for you as well when this comes to an end.”

“And what is that going to look like? The end.” My throat tightens around the words.

“When the time comes, I will make it appear as though I cheated. It will be too large of a transgression for us to recover from. With those who matter sympathy will be for you. This will allow you to continue to work for me. Your coworkers will look down on me, not you.”

“Why the hell would you do something like that? You aren’t a cheater, Ivan. You are a better man than that. It’s absolutely absurd for you to ruin your reputation.” No, no fucking way will I let him do it.

“I do not care what anyone thinks about me. You do. My life will not change one way or another. Yours could. Do not concern yourself with the plan.”

“Don’t worry about you pissing away the respect people have for you in your company? No, if you’re so insistent I’ll work from home. We’ll communicate through email or phone if we need to. What I do and how I do it can be done as easily from home as in the office. Once you ever find a replacement for the PA you need, that is.”

We’re in the driveway. The porchlight is on and I wonder if Abuelo is asleep yet.

“This is not a discussion. I have made a plan. The negatives of it do not adversely affect you, therefore you do not have a say in this.”

I yank my hand out of his. “The hell I don’t. There are two of us in this, Ivan. You don’t get to order me—”

God damn him, his mouth slams into mine, rough, demanding. For the first time I try to fight what he’s doing to me but my fight goes up in flames as he sucks on my tongue. His hand goes around my throat. Freak, I’m a total freak for how wet it makes me.

“Behave, poppet, your grandfather is watching us from the window. This argument is for another day.”

Blushing, praying Abuelo didn’t see everything, I get out of the car on unsteady legs. When I round the car, Ivan takes my arm in his hand.

The front door opens before we make it up the stairs onto the wide porch. Abuelo is in his wheelchair frowning. His eyes narrow on Ivan through the screen door. I open the door and Ivan’s arm goes around my waist, holding me tightly to him.

I apologize. “Sorry it’s late. We were working and the time got away from us.”

Brenda snorts from behind Abuelo.

Abuelo’s eyebrows go up as he stares at my neck. “Working?”

Ivan offers his free hand to Abuelo, not letting me go. “Ivan Volkov, no, we were not working. I was asking your granddaughter to marry me. It took some convincing.”

Eyes wide, Abuelo takes Ivan’s hand. “You want to marry my Christina?”

“Very much so.” Their handshake is brief. “She is beautiful, brilliant, and I am well aware I am fortunate she said yes. Her standards are high, as they should be. I barely made the cut. I can be persuasive when I want something as badly as I want your granddaughter.”

“Wow, what a rock,” Brenda exclaims, her eyes on my hand.

Abuelo grabs my wrist. “My granddaughter is not for sale.”

Hurt at the condemnation in his voice, the painful grip on me, I pull away from Abuelo. “He didn’t buy me. It wasn’t like that.”

“What is it?”

Confusion and pain mingle as Ivan pulls me tighter. I don’t understand why he’s talking like this. After the last time he brought this up all of two weeks ago, I would have thought he’d be jumping for joy.

“Sir, the moment I met your granddaughter I wanted her by fair means or foul. She would not accept anything less than a lasting relationship, which is not what I wanted. I will freely admit that. Gradually, I realized she deserves everything she asks for. If she wants a lasting relationship, then I will give her what she needs to feel secure.”

“This is how you got your boss’s position. This is how you’re going to pay off our mortgage. You sell yourself to him. I don’t know you anymore.” Abuelo shakes his head, disgust clear on his face. He wheels around, slamming the door to his room.

“Um, I’m going to go now. I, uh, congratulations.” Brenda edges toward the door.

“Wait, you will be open to being with him late again?” Ivan halts her.

“Yeah, me and Christina talked, whenever she needs me. I’m good. I don’t have anything else going on.”

“Good.” Ivan opens his wallet and counts out a wad of hundred-dollar bills. “We appreciate it.”

I want to argue I was handling it, had handled it. Except I’m still stunned, still trying hard not to cry.

“Go pack a bag, sweetheart.”

Damn it, I blink and tears fall.

Gentle hands guide me to our worn couch then press me down. “I will be right back.”

I haven’t moved when Ivan comes back. I want to bang on Abuelo’s door, I want to tell him he’s wrong but I can’t because he isn’t, technically. I’m also not sure I’m going to be able to stop crying. Ivan’s arms come around me, murmuring softly things I don’t understand, and I hate that I cry harder.

I lose track of time. Finally, Ivan just picks me up and carries me out of the house. At the car he puts me inside. Then he’s back again with a suitcase he puts in the backseat. Once he’s in the car he fastens my seat belt, pressing another kiss into my cheek.

“It will be okay, love. I promise. He needs some time with it. He loves you. I will fix this.”

How can he fix this?

***

Ivan

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Guilt is not emotion I have much experience with, yet I am filled with it as I listen to Christina sniffling beside me, trying to stop crying. I have fucked up her relationship with her grandfather, the most important thing in her life, the only family she has left.

I promised her that I would fix this, yet I cannot see any way to do so. His accusation made no sense to me. I have known her all of two weeks yet have no doubt she would never allow money to sway her to anything she did not believe was right.

As a man long familiar with money-hungry, gold-digging women, I know Christina is not one of them. Why the hell would her grandfather accuse her of being one?

I hesitate before guiding her into my bedroom. The idea of sleeping next to her, knowing she is in too much pain to take me, promises to be a night spent in hell. However, the idea of her sleeping alone, crying herself to sleep... No, there is no choice.

My concern deepens at the way she is simply going through the motions I put her through. I leave her on the bed, and go to my closet to grab a T-shirt of mine to sleep in. Packing for her was done quickly. While I grabbed several work clothes and some of the sexiest lingerie I had ever seen, the only things for her to sleep in were too damn skimpy to lie beside her all night without touching her.

Undressing her, satisfaction fills me at the marks on her body. Until I see her beautiful face swollen with tears. 

I get her into the shirt and under the covers, then head to the bathroom. I wet a washcloth with cool water, then go back to her and press it against her swollen face. I want to go back to her grandfather and tear him apart piece by piece for hurting her. 

Tucking her into bed, I move away from her to allow her time to fall asleep. “I will be back. I need to wrap a few things up.”

More like beat my cock a half dozen times before trying to sleep in the same bed without touching her.

“Ivan?” Her throat works. I cannot deny her what she needs. I turn off the lights, undress, and get into bed beside her.  Moment after hot and heady moment starts flashing through my mind as she wraps her arms around me and sinks against me. It’s going to be a long damn night.