15. Charlotte

15

CHARLOTTE

I can still taste him on my lips, thick and salty, as Ivan yanks me back from the door and into his arms, holding me against his chest with one arm as his other hand slides around the back of my neck. His eyes bore into mine, hard and lustful and angry, and his fingers tighten around my nape as his mouth comes crashing down onto mine.

The feeling of him gripping my neck jolts through me, heat blossoming through every inch of my body as he turns me sharply, pressing me back against the sink. His tongue pushes between my lips, forcing itself into my mouth roughly, as if he doesn't care that I just swallowed his cum. As if all he wants is to taste me, even if it means tasting himself, too.

I can feel myself starting to tremble as he kisses me, his tongue sweeping through my mouth, his body pinning me to the sink. He knew what I was doing from the moment I told him to tell me to get on my knees. He knows me too well, better than he should, and maybe , I think as Ivan devours my mouth, making me moan as he nips at my bottom lip, maybe it's because whatever dark part of him sought me out is in me, too. Maybe that's why I went looking for what I found, in the first place.

He was right in saying that I was trying to put distance between us. I was doing the same thing earlier, too, when I broke up what could have been a sweet moment by reminding him of Venom. I don't want to care for this man. I don't want to feel more for him, when he's stripped so much away from me. When he's so fucking confusing that I don't know if I hate him or if I'm falling in love with him, because the man who ruined my life also seems like a man who wants to be good .

I wanted to reduce him back to that. Someone who just wanted me for sex. Who didn't care if he ruined my life in the process. But by doing that, by pushing him over that edge, I just reminded myself of how much I want him, too.

His thick, rasping voice telling me to get on my knees turned me on. His hand on my neck made me ache, made me wet while I knelt there, and gave him every bit of pleasure I could imagine how to give. And when I made him moan, when I felt him come in my mouth, that momentary feeling of power, of lust was so good that I wanted to keep going. To beg him to give me what I just gave him.

So I tried to run, and like every other time I've tried to run from him, he wouldn't let me.

And now, he's going to make me admit what I want, just like I did to him.

Ivan runs his tongue over my lip again, teeth grazing over it before he pulls back. "You made me tell you what I wanted," he growls, his hand holding me firmly in place. "So you're going to do the same thing, Charlotte. Don't think you're going to get away with reminding me of the things I fantasized about, and then not have to do the same."

He spins me around so that I'm facing the mirror, and the look on his face sends a shiver down my spine. The hand not on my neck slides down my back, over my shirt, down to the edge of my hip. "You wanted to make me come and then walk away. To pretend that you could reduce me down to my basest desires and pretend that you have none of your own. But when I pull your jeans down, Charlotte, I know what I'm going to find." His hand slides around to the button in front, thumbing it loose as his fingers rest against the zipper. "Are you wet, milaya ? Are you going to try to tell me that you're not dripping for me?"

I sink my teeth into my lower lip, refusing to answer. Wanting to find out what he'll do. This is one of the games we played, too, when he was Venom, and I was his dove. A game of asking what he'd do if I fought him. How he'd punish me. And that dark, secret part of myself wants to find out.

What if I stopped being ashamed of it? What if I admitted that I want Ivan, the bad and the good, the liar and the romantic, the devil and the angel? What if ?—

He slides down the zipper, slowly, teasing me. His gaze holds mine in the mirror the entire time, taunting me the way I taunted him.

"You're going to watch me while I make you come, Charlotte. And you're going to tell me how much you want it while I do it. Now answer me. Are you wet for me?"

I shake my head stubbornly, silently, and I hear Ivan's dark, rasping chuckle behind me as he yanks my zipper down.

His hands slide over my hips, broad palms gripping me for a moment before he grabs the waist of my jeans and panties together and yanks them down, all the way to my knees. One hand rests against the back of my neck again, fingers rubbing almost soothingly before he wraps them around my nape.

"Hold onto the sides of the sink, Charlotte," he murmurs, his voice silky, full of a promise and a threat all at once. "Don't let go, or this will be so much worse for you."

A shudder runs down my spine as I obey, my teeth still sunk into my lower lip, my fingers curling around the cool edges of the counter as Ivan slides my shirt up, so that the lower part of my back, all the way down to my bare ass, is visible. I can feel the cool air of the room on my legs, between them, and I let out a whimper as his fingers trail down my spine.

I want this. I can pretend that I don't; I can tell him not to touch me, but I can't help but think that some small part of me knew this would happen when I walked out of the room. That Ivan isn't the kind of man who would let me go down on him and then not return the favor. That he would let me walk out without admitting that I have desires of my own.

"I've been thinking about this wet pussy since that first morning in the hotel," Ivan murmurs, his fingers drifting down further, his palm resting against the curve of my ass briefly. "But you're insisting you're not wet for me, milaya . So let's find out."

It takes everything in me not to moan when he dips two fingers between my legs, sliding them deftly between my folds and up to my clit, through the sopping mess of my arousal. I'm drenched, so wet that I can feel it, and Ivan groans as he rubs his two fingers back and forth over my swollen clit, a dark chuckle following.

"You're drenched for me. Just like I knew you would be. My pretty little slut, getting so wet from my cock in her mouth. Such a good girl." He rubs his fingers back and forth again, the pleasure nearly making my knees buckle, and I clench my teeth against a moan.

"But you're a bad girl too, aren't you, Charlotte?" He scissors his fingers around my clit, still rubbing, but now it's not nearly enough. Now I can feel the swollen flesh aching, wanting more direct contact, and I grip the sink so hard it bites into my palms, trying not to buck into his touch. Not to let him know how much I want it.

"You lied to me. Lied about how wet you are. And now you're depriving me of hearing those pretty moans of yours. Holding yourself still so you can pretend you aren't dying for me to finger you until you come, lick your pussy until you drench my mouth, and then fuck you with my cock until you scream."

His hand drops away from my pussy, and that makes me want to scream. I squeeze my thighs together, desperate for friction, and let out a sudden, startled yelp when I feel the hot sting of Ivan's palm against the back of my thigh.

"You want to revisit fantasies we talked about, dove?" He slaps my thigh again, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to sting. "I remember the one about punishment. What I'd do if you lied to me about how much you wanted me, dove. So now, I think it's time we talk about that one."

A shudder ripples through me as his hand slides up, palming the side of my ass again. "I can feel you trembling. And maybe it's fear, maybe a little—but it's desire, too. You want this. You wanted it when we talked about it, late at night, when you thought I was a faceless man you'd never have to see. But that wasn't a lie, was it, Charlotte? That you wanted me to spank you until you were dripping down your thighs, until you'd be a good girl for me again? And it wasn't a lie that I wanted to do it."

I barely have a moment to brace myself before his hand comes down on my ass, hard enough to burn. "Spread your legs for me, dove. As wide as you can." His hand comes down again, on the other side, with a sharp crack as I hesitate. "I want to see your pussy getting wetter for me while I spank you. I want to see how much you like your punishment." Another slap, this one harder, and a helpless whimper slips from my lips, through my clenched teeth. " Charlotte ."

I can't help it. The burn spreads through me, melting into a heated need that has me moving my legs apart, spreading open for him so that he can see the most intimate parts of me, swollen and dripping and aching for him. His hand comes down again, two sharp spanks, and I moan, my head dropping forward as I feel his fingers tighten around my neck.

" Fuck , little dove—" Ivan groans as he brings his hand down again, and then slides it between my thighs, finding that I'm even more drenched than I was before. " God , you get me so fucking hard."

His fingers dip into me, two fingers pressing deeply inside as I clench around him, moaning helplessly. "Look at me," he growls, his fingers wrapping in my hair and tugging. "Watch me while I make you come, Charlotte."

I look up, his eyes are wide and glazed with desire, and the ferocity of the lust on his face makes me clench around his fingers, my entire body trembling as I arch into his hand. I need to come, and everything else fades into the background as I rock backward onto his hand, watching him as he lets go of my neck and slides his other hand beneath me to play with my clit as he keeps fingering me.

"Come for me, little dove," he growls. "I can feel how much you need it. Let yourself come for me."

I couldn't stop myself even if I still wanted to. Yelling heatedly at him that he'd never touch me again feels like it happened in some other lifetime, some other universe . My world has narrowed down to the feeling of his fingers thrusting inside of me, curling, the roll of his rough fingertips over my clit, the way his dark blue eyes hold mine in the mirror the entire time, watching me as he pushes me over the edge.

"Don't look away," he growls, as he feels me tense. "Eyes on me, dove. Watch me while you come. Or I'll spank that pretty ass until you're too sore to sit down for the rest of the trip."

The orgasm hits me, pleasure tightening every muscle in my body, sparking through my veins, made a thousand times more intense by the fact that I'm looking into his eyes the entire time, watching him in the mirror as I shake and moan, rocked with sensation as I cling to the countertop for dear life.

Ivan groans, and I feel both of his hands on my hips as he drops to his knees behind me, and I feel the sudden hot slide of his tongue between my legs before I've even fully come down from my first orgasm. I gasp, my knees nearly buckling, and he pushes me forward against the counter, holding me there as his tongue lashes mercilessly over my sensitive flesh.

It's the hottest thing I've ever experienced. No one has ever gone down on me like this before, almost as if it's wholly for his pleasure and not mine, as if he's so desperate for the taste of me that he can't stop himself from devouring me. His tongue curls against my clit, rubbing, licking, and I let out a cry that's something between a moan and a shriek as I feel a second orgasm building, crashing over me like a wave that drags me under, gasping and nearly collapsing even with Ivan's hands holding me up.

He pushes himself up, and when I look up in the mirror, his gaze is dark and hungry, his mouth still wet from me. I feel the hot, heavy press of his rock-hard cock against my lower back, and then I feel him angle it down, sliding the swollen head through my dripping folds.

"I'm so fucking hard," he growls. "Like I didn't just come in your mouth ten minutes ago. Like I haven't come in fucking months. That's how much you turn me on, Charlotte. How much I fucking want you."

He rubs his cockhead against my pussy, down between my folds, over my clit, and up again, and I moan, arching backward. I've forgotten I hate him, forgotten he lied, forgotten everything about how badly I want that thick, hard length filling me up, how much I want him to fuck me with it, to come all over it?—

Ivan laughs, that dark, rasping sound again. "You want my cock so badly, don't you, dove?" He pushes against my entrance, not enough to slip inside, and when I arch back to take him in, he pulls back.

"Oh no, little dove." He rubs himself against me again, teeth gritted as if it's taking everything in him not to thrust into me. "I just wanted to give you a taste. To remind you what my cock feels like. But the next time I fuck you, Charlotte, it's going to be because you want me to fuck you. Not this fantasy that you want to hide behind."

He steps back abruptly, shoving his erection—still glistening with my arousal—back into his jeans. And then without another word, his jaw clenched, he stalks out of the bathroom and slams the door.

—

We barely say a word to each other for the rest of the night. In the wake of those two violent orgasms, I feel drained and embarrassed at how he left me. Angry, hurt, and other emotions that I can't even begin to put a name to.

I shower and get dressed again. Ivan is out on the walkway, and I ignore him, getting the last of the food we bought out of the insulated bag. I don't bother to ask him if he wants any, and I don't see him eat. He stays outside for a long time, until I turn off the lights and crawl into bed.

I don't fall asleep easily. I pretend, listening to the sounds of him making up the bed on the floor, and I feel a flicker of guilt again that he's sleeping down there when he's the one who drives all day. I think of him taking me out to the lake, how it clearly meant something to him.

I can't care about him. I can't. He lied to me. He destroyed my life. I bite my lip, closing my eyes as I focus on those last two things. Not the man who, in so many quieter moments, seems like someone I could love. Not the man who gives me pleasure that I never imagined existed before this.

The man who lied. The man who kills. The man who is responsible for all the terrible things I'm facing now.

That's Ivan. That's the real Ivan.

But I'm having a harder and harder time believing that, with every day that passes.

I wake up feeling sore and out of sorts, my ass bruised from the spanking Ivan gave me. With the pleasure long gone, it makes me irritable, and I'm tense, keeping my distance from him. He doesn't say anything, and I can't help but wonder what he's thinking as we load up the car and make another grocery stop, getting back onto the highway. His jaw is clenched as he looks out at the road, and I look at the sharp, handsome lines of his profile, my skin tingling as I remember what happened yesterday.

After a few hours, I can't take his tense silence any longer. Even the hum of the old rock station that he put on in the background can't ease the heavy feeling between us.

"Why did you take me out to that lake?" I ask abruptly, shifting uncomfortably in the seat.

Ivan doesn't answer for a long moment. "Why did you sign up to that site where you met Venom?"

I grit my teeth. I can feel him spoiling for a fight, still upset at me from yesterday. "I told you why."

"Because Nate cheated on you, and you wanted to get back at him. Because you wanted a safe place to explore your fantasies. Is that it? Because I don't really believe that, Charlotte. I don't think you actually believed it was a safe place. I think you're smarter than that."

I swallow hard. "I thought it was safe."

"No, you didn't." His hands tighten on the wheel. "If you want to be angry at me for lying, Charlotte, then stop lying to yourself. Stop lying to me."

"I'm not?—"

"You did it because of the danger. Because danger was what you wanted. You didn't really think going on the dark web and talking about primal fantasies with a man who called himself Venom was safe , or smart . You wanted a thrill. You wanted to be bad. And you just didn't believe that the worst of those consequences would ever come back on you."

I whip around, staring at him angrily. "Don't you dare say you lying was my fault! That any of this was my fault?—"

"I'm not." Ivan lets out a heavy breath. "I lied. I fucking get it. Every possible facet of how I went about getting to know you was wrong, Charlotte, and I know it, even if I can't say I'd take it back, not unless I want to lie to you again. And I've been doing my fucking damnedest not to lie to you now. But you can't sit there and tell me that you did all of that thinking it was safe. That you didn't want the danger." His jaw works, a muscle twitching there. "I should spank you again, for lying to me ."

"Fucking try it." I sit back, looking out the window, anger churning in my stomach. I'm pissed that he's daring to say a single thing about anything I've done, when everything he's done is so much worse—but I'm also pissed because he's right, and I don't want to admit it to myself anymore than I want to admit it to him.

I did want the danger. The thrill, without any consequences. It doesn't make Ivan lying to me any better—but I'm not entirely without blame, either.

What if it had been someone other than Ivan? My stomach tightens, and I bite my lip. I never intended to meet Venom, before I knew who he was, but Ivan can't be the only person in the world talented enough to track me down. The odds that someone else could have gotten around my safeguards and found me are slim—but it could have happened. Someone with far worse intentions.

It doesn't make it right. I cross my arms, looking out of the window, refusing to look back at Ivan. I don't want to give him another inch. Because the more I let myself believe that there's more to him than I want to admit, the closer I come to admitting a truth that shouldn't exist.

I'm still falling for him, despite all of his lies.

Despite everything.