24. Becca

24

BECCA

I struggled to stand, tugged upward with Ivan’s big, strong hand under my chin. He didn’t choke me, but the pressure was unforgiving. While he didn’t need to try so hard to prompt me to meet him in the middle, I relished the hint of his dominance.

I wanted him to lead me. I longed for him to take me how he wanted because I knew how good it would feel in the end.

We crashed, our mouths smashing against each other. And my heart sang. My pussy clenched and dripped. In a split second, I was aroused and rabid for him.

After hearing him explain that he saw something more than a hostage situation in store for me, I fought with the excitement of my dreams coming true.

Of knowing he wanted me.

Lusted for me.

And truly hoped to keep me in his life. Not just me, but Emily too. Ivan wanted us for good, as a package deal, and I was all for this vision of a happier life with him.

“You want to know how you can believe me?” he growled, stepping back to breathe heavily as he stared down at me.

I nodded, unable to move my head much with his fingers wrapped around my throat. “Please,” I begged.

He grunted, wrapping his arms around me as he walked forward. I stumbled, clinging to him and arching up into his kiss. Into the incessant pressure of his hot, hungry lips devouring mine.

The backs of my thighs smacked into the edge of the work table, and I let out a deep breath at the impact. Pinned between his hard body and the rough-cut edge of the surface, I felt stuck and immobile. That didn’t stop me from reaching up and twining my arms around his neck. It didn’t prevent me from moaning into his mouth and accepting the hiss of pain when he nipped my bottom lip.

“I’ll show you,” he promised.

Without giving me a chance to reply, he gripped my hips and hoisted me up onto the table. Tools shook in the cups off to the side. Dust puffed up from previous projects I’d completed on the other corner of the plywood-constructed surface.

My ass stung with the hard drop onto the bare wood, but I didn’t linger on the sensation for long. I couldn’t. Not when he tugged my dress collar so hard that buttons went flying, that the fabric ripped near the seams. The material hung to the sides like a cloak, and I parted my legs as he stepped closer.

Breathing hard and panting quickly, he stared at me with unbridled lust shining in his eyes. He dragged his hands from my shoulders down my arms, pushing my garment off more. Then he cupped my breasts, lowering to suck hard on my nipples one at a time until I knew I’d be streaking a trail of fluids on the surface of the table.

He wasn’t finished, shoving his hands lower over my stomach until he bunched my panties in his fists. One forceful tug ripped them, and I parted my legs easily for him to look at my pussy.

A wicked, carnal grin changed his face. He eyed me, taking in the wet entrance that beckoned him, and I shivered in anticipation.

“You want to know how you can trust that I want you?”

I exhaled a quick, breathy whoosh of air as he trailed his fingers up and down my slit, teasing me. “Yes, Ivan. Show me how much you want me, please.”

“Not just like this,” he growled, pushing me to scoot back on the table. “But always .”

I leaned back, shaky with need. Desire controlled me, and I couldn’t wait for him to take over that power and commandeer it as he saw fit. Whatever he wanted, I knew it would be good for me.

“Hold on to the other side of the table.”

I reached up, scraping my nails to claw for the edge. His hand lay heavy on my stomach, pushing down so I’d be flat. Once I found the table’s edge, I held on tight.

He lowered immediately, replacing his fingers with his tongue, his lips, then his teeth, too. He sucked and licked with precision, laving my tender flesh with a hunger I wished he’d always have for me.

Tension built and burned as my pussy throbbed and ached. My pulse was already so fast, and I feared my heart couldn’t keep up with the intense suspense and buildup to what would likely be a brutal orgasm.

“You see?” he taunted, looking up at me with my juices glistening on his chin. “You see how fucking hungry I am for you?”

I groaned, arching into his hand as he thrust his fingers in. It felt too good. So damned wonderful and thrilling, yet not enough.

“I see.”

He leaned over. I registered the press of his side on my leg, and I wondered if he was done eating me out. I wasn’t there yet. I needed more. I wanted to come so damn badly after all these weeks of pining for him.

“And do you feel?” he asked in a gravelly tone as he slipped something hard into my cunt.

I tensed, breathing faster as I tried to understand what he was doing. Opening my eyes slowly, I took in the wicked sight of him sliding a sculpting tool into me. The smooth, polished handle was easily the size of three of his fingers. At the top, sticking outside me and resting in his hand, was the circular metal loop that sliced into clay.

Oh, God.

The handle fit into me just as well as his fingers did. Hard and thick. Deep and steady.

“Oh… fuck.” I was incapable of any further speech. He was so dirty, so impulsive, and not afraid to give it to me hard.

He held the open sharp loop, plunging the tool’s handle up into me at the same time he circled my clit with his fingers, rubbing so perfectly, so quickly, that I came in no time.

“You feel how I can make you fly?”

Keening cries of pleasure were all I could manage. Speech was impossible. Thoughts ceased to fill my mind. I writhed and bucked, quivering with the intensity of coming after such a long dry spell.

“And I will never stop,” he promised, shedding his pants. The zipper was so loud. The drag over the surface, rough and unsanded, burned under my ass.

“Never,” I agreed, reaching for him limply as wave after wave of bliss crashed through me. I couldn’t catch my breath, suspended in this weightless feeling of floating and sinking at the same time.

He dragged me further to the edge of the table, lifting my legs into the air as he lined up the tip of his dick.

“I will fuck the doubt out of you, sweetheart.”

Then he proceeded to do just that. With one hard drive in, he sank his cock into me. I groaned, tensing at the full, hard hit of his length so deep inside me. Just like before, he didn’t give me a chance to adjust, to acclimate to this hard, delicious stretch.

In and out, he pounded into me. Gripping my legs, he dug his fingers into my flesh. His nails pressed into my skin. Sweat slicked between my ass and the rough board. My hair tugged and pinched as it caught on the grain of the wood. All the while, I clung to the other edge of the table, holding on for dear life as my muscles quivered from the strain.

“You hear me?” he rasped, squeezing my legs more as he sped up his full, brutal thrusts into me.

He showed no mercy. He gave me no pause. Straight into me. Over and over again.

“You’re going to fucking come for me, good girl. You’re going to squeeze my dick with that tight pussy and milk me.”

“Yes. Yes.” I panted, my need to come apart so blindingly bright that I thought I’d pass out.

“I’m gonna flood your cunt with my cum and you’re going to take it all.”

I cried out, overwhelmed with his filthy talk and the abrasive pushes on the wood. His penis impaled me, sheathing inside my slick walls, and I couldn’t hold on much longer. He was too thick, too fast, pushing into me and upward in just the right way that I splintered into a thousand pieces of bliss.

“Ivan!” Wetness dripped down my cheeks. Tears of joy couldn’t be held back as he thrust in twice more and came right after me. My orgasm wasn’t short. With waves of pleasure as our combined juices squelched out of me, I went lax and let the sensations course through me. The fullness of him embedded so deep. The tug of his fingers on my legs as he kept me close. The friction of his hairy thighs as my ass rested against him.

I couldn’t move because he still held on to me. And I didn’t want to, either. He’d fucked me so hard and fast, I could only try to breathe and recover from the intensity, from the suspense of wanting to explode on him.

He slipped out once he staggered to lie over me. His head rested on my chest, rising and falling with my quick breath. Together, we rested and came down from the high of a quick, much-overdue fuck. Without words, skipping anything sweet and tender, we simply stuck there together, sated and depleted of energy after snapping that tension simmering between us.

He’d wanted to show me that I could trust that he wanted me for good. Even though that was just sex, physical, I felt the determination in every moment of his touch.

I ran my hand over his head, stroking his hair back, and sighed.

Finally, he stood, wincing at the awkward slump over the table. Still without speaking, he offered me a hand to help me sit up, then to stand.

As he checked my back and legs for scrapes and splinters from the wood, I held on to him and felt our cum slipping out of my pussy. It dribbled on the insides of my thighs, and I staggered toward the sink for some paper towels.

I couldn’t believe I caved. And I was stunned that I still wanted more. It seemed I would never get enough of him, and I tried to let that idea fade away. He said he wanted me, and I had no reason not to believe him. He may never be a man of many words, but he sure as hell proved his feelings through his forceful actions.

“Dom was never here?” he asked after we cleaned up near the sink.

He’d pulled his pants on, and I paused in the process of buttoning the remaining closures on my dress.

“What?” My heart iced over.

“Dom.” He glanced at me. “Was Dom ever in here?”

I’d already told him that he never came here. Was he implying that I fucked men in this studio all the time? Ivan was the only man I’d ever let in here. This was my private, personal space that mattered to me, and it had felt so special sharing it with him, letting him see me for who I really was as I dared to take that chance of opening up to him.

“What the hell?”

All the warm glow of having sex with him and believing his words about wanting me for good faded. My mood vanished. A cold anger replaced it.

“I told you he wasn’t here. Dom wasn’t in my life like that.”

I’d never wanted to sleep with him, and I hated that Ivan could be insinuating that I had. His question made me bristle. He’d asked because that was all he needed from me. All he wanted from me—information about his enemies.

I was a moron to fall for his sweet words and think that he was telling the truth when he said he saw a future with me and Emily.

I will never fucking learn. A man could promise me the world and I’d be a sucker, so desperate for a better life.

All Ivan wanted was intel, and he could be bothered to slow down for a quick fuck along the way to getting it.

“Let me get this straight. You fucked me to loosen me up so I’d give you information you still think I’m withholding from you.”

He scowled. “No. That’s not it at all.”

“The hell it isn’t.”

“Fuck this bullshit, Becca. I didn’t. All I care about doing is figuring out what I’m missing before you or anyone else gets hurt.”

I stared at him as he smoothed down his shirt, wishing I could know whether he was telling the truth. I believed him when he said he wanted me. I felt the evidence of his arousal and how determined he was to make me come.

Then why did he have to jump right back to asking me about Dom? I didn’t understand, and for the drive back to the vacation villa, I lingered in a twisted sense of dread and confusion.