Our bodies moved together in perfect symphony as if we’d done this a thousand times before. The tension in me built again, higher and tighter than before, a coiling spring of pleasure that demanded release.
“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. “I want to feel you come around me.” His fingers found my clit, and he drew lazy circles.
I tightened around him, squeezed his cock inside of me until he pushed me over the edge.
My second release was even more powerful than the first—a supernova of sensation that left me gasping.
With a guttural groan, he followed me into oblivion, his body shuddering against mine as he found his own release.
We collapsed together, breathless and sweaty. Ivan shifted his weight to avoid crushing me but kept me tucked against him, one arm beneath my head, one wrapped possessively around my waist, his cock softening against my hip. The position felt protective rather than constraining.
For several minutes, we lay in silence, our breathing gradually slowing to normal. I felt oddly peaceful, my body languid with satisfaction, my mind quiet for the first time in forever.
Ivan’s hand traced lazy patterns on my belly, feather-light touches that made me shiver despite the warmth. I turned my head slightly in his embrace to look at him, curious about what I might find in his expression after such intensity.
His face was more open than I’d ever seen it, the usual mask of control temporarily abandoned. In the soft light, with his hair tousled and his guard down, he looked younger, almost vulnerable. The realization that he was allowing me to see him this way felt like a gift more intimate than the sex we’d just had.
I reached out, traced the lines of the tattoo on his arm—a stylized phoenix with a lion’s face, rising from flames that curved around his shoulder and down his arm. Up close, I could see how the intricate design incorporated subtle scars.
“Each line tells a story,” I murmured, following the pattern with my fingertips.
Ivan caught my hand, bringing it to his lips in a gesture that felt unexpectedly tender. “Not all stories are worth hearing.”
“For me, yours is,” I said simply.
Something flickered in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, or disbelief. He studied my face as if searching for something.”
“What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice still rough with the aftermath of desire.
The question was disarmingly direct. I considered deflecting with humor or sass, my usual defenses, but something about the moment demanded honesty.
“That Vince will kill you if he finds out. That this complicates everything,” I admitted, not pulling away from his touch.
A shadow passed over his face, but he nodded. “Worth it?” The question carried a vulnerability I wouldn’t have believed him capable of just days ago.
“Yes,” I answered without hesitation, surprising myself with the truth of it. “Not the smartest thing to do but totally worth it.”
The admission hung between us, weighty with implications neither of us was ready to voice. Instead of responding with words, Ivan pulled me closer, pressing his lips to my temple in a gesture that felt unbelievably intimate.
We lay tangled together, without speaking, but I was acutely aware that something fundamental had shifted between us. What had begun as enemies had evolved into a reluctant alliance and was now something I didn’t have a name for—something deeper and more dangerous than I’d ever allowed myself to experience.
As my eyes got heavier again, I pushed my nose against Ivan’s chest and nestled into his arms.
He got rid of the condom, then pulled up the blanket before he wrapped his arms around me again, his hand idly stroking my hip in a soothing rhythm.
For tonight, I would allow myself this peace. Tomorrow, we would face Vince, Grey, and all the dangers we had to face—but tonight, I was exactly where I wanted to be.
Just before drifting off, I felt Ivan press another kiss to my hair, followed by words so soft, I might have imagined them: “I never expected you.”
I smiled against his skin, eyes already closed. “I never expected you either.”
His quiet chuckle vibrated through his chest, the sound wrapping around me like a blanket as I surrendered to sleep, safe in the arms of the man who had somehow moved from enemy to protector to lover in the span of mere days.
For someone with my trust issues, the scariest three words weren’t “I love you.” They were “I trust you.” And as I was drifting off to sleep in his arms, I realized I did.
22
IVAN
