We spend the rest of the night together. Ruslan doesn’t stop, and I don’t ask him to. After he fucks me from behind, he flips me over and slides between my legs, fucking me face to facewith a light hand around my throat and an order to maintain eye contact so he can see what I look like when I come. His own orgasms are lost in the sea of the ones he gives me and after each one, he asks me the same question and I force myself to speak.
The more I talk, the harder he fucks me. On the bed. On the floor. Against the wall when my limbs are like jelly and every breath that tears out of me is laced with a moan. The only respite my pussy gets is when he moves me on the bed until my head hangs off the edge and he slides that thick cock between my lips. My mind goes blank and my body soars when he fucks my throat until I can’t breathe, when he holds himself buried deep until I choke, and when he finally spills his load in my mouth, I finally have no words.
No words.
No thoughts.
I’m completely at peace, exhausted and pliant.
Ruslan ends up between my legs again, soothing my throbbing pussy with gentle, slow laps of his tongue and kisses to my clit. Every touch is overwhelming, given my sensitivity, but he soothes me gently, offers me water and a few squares of chocolate, and then I fall fast asleep in his arms without even meaning to.
It’s the first peaceful night of sleep I’ve had since the plane crash.
I sleep like I’m dead and wake the next morning to sunlight trickling through the slats in his blinds. Opening my eyes, a warm blue sky greets me as a few fluffy white clouds lazily drift past. I’m on my side with Ruslan at my back, his arm across my waist.
I slept and I didn’t dream. No nightmares. No terrors. Nothing.
Just hours and hours of peaceful rest.
Was it the sex? Or Ruslan?
Moving sends a jolt of aching pain through my core and my thighs, but it’s a good pain. Like a muscle ache the day after a workout at the gym. I move my legs again to soak up the sensation, then freeze as Ruslan’s arm tightens around my waist.
This… is romantic. This is sweet.
Cuddling? That’s not sex. That’s feeling.
My mouth runs dry. I want to roll over and look at him, but moving risks waking up and selfishly, I want to enjoy this for as long as I can.
Just as I finish that thought, buzzing rises up from behind me and Ruslan grunts softly. The buzzing continues and his grunts become clearer, then his arm vanishes from my waist and his heat fades from my back.
“What?” Ruslan grunts, his voice thick with sleep.
A subtle hum of another voice catches my attention. He must be talking on the phone. I remain still and close my eyes, pretending to be asleep so I can soak up this moment just a little longer.
His phone clatters on the bedside table and he groans, then the bed dips as he moves. His hand lands gently on my shoulder and he shakes me carefully.
“Ivy?”
I pretend to wake up slowly, groaning and yawning. “Mm? Oh, morning.”
“Morning. We have to get up.”
“Has something happened?” Worry is like an adrenaline shot to the heart as all peace gained from last night vanishes.
“I just got a call from Valentina. She’s found something.”
“Found what?”
Ruslan leans over the edge of the bed and grabs his boxers from the floor. “She thinks the woman your father was seeing is the ex-fiancée of someone dangerous. Someone we know.”
21
RUSLAN
“How do you know her?” I place my hands on the back of Ivy’s chair and lean over her shoulder, studying the picture on the screen. Thanks to Raven’s incredible skills, it didn’t take long for her to find a better angle on the woman Ivy’s father was sleeping with.
Valentina sits across from us on the other side of the table, running one elegant finger along the edge of the lace placemat under the flowers Cassian set up earlier.
