“Tell me you want me,” he said with a gruff voice.
He already knew that from touching her. She kept quiet.
He reached for the clip of her hair, but she tilted her head to escape the touch.
“I want to see how long it is.”
“The same as always.” Her hair wasn’t her best feature. He wouldn’t be tempted to trail his fingers through long, silky strands, because hers were brittle with split ends.
“Show me the color,” he urged.
“You know the color.”
“All right,” he gave her the indulgent smile of a cat on the hunt, “tell me the color.”
“Mousy brown, as always.”
He crushed their mouths together. When her lips parted with a gasp, his tongue delved inside. He bent his knees and rolled his hips, rubbing his cock over her sex until she parted her legs and let him settle between her thighs. The metal of his zipper slid over the silk of her panties to stroke her clit. A needy convulsion ran over her body. She inhaled sharply, sucking the air from his mouth and giving it back on a low moan. With one hand on the bun in her nape and the other on her hip, he yanked her against his lips and his cock, kissing her until she felt dizzy.
As fast as he’d started, he stopped. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before taking her glasses from his pocket and handing them back to her. “Let’s go.”
She hesitated.
“Now, Alice, unless you want to be fucked in the alley.”
Chapter 4
Not giving Alice time to answer, Ivan took her hand and led her down the street. It wasn’t a long walk to The Ritz. As they moved along, Ivan all but dragging her behind him, people turned their heads. She looked down, trying to make herself small, but if anyone recognized him, they didn’t say so.
The doorman greeted them politely in the lobby of Ivan’s building, not batting an eye at her presence or the unmistakable urgency with which Ivan rushed her to the elevator. Why would he? According to the media, Ivan slept with more women than there were days in the year.
Ivan unlocked his door and pulled her inside. The air conditioner was on full blast, making her shiver. She looked around the luxurious lounge. Sharp sunlight fell through the windows, basking the baroque furniture in a golden glow.
“Like it?” he asked close to her ear.
The decoration was over the top, too royal for her taste. She fixed her attention on the door off the side, which had to lead to the bedroom.
Following her gaze, he said, “After you.”
She summoned her courage and entered his bedroom. She still didn’t know what she wanted from Ivan, but she did know she needed his body. It wasn’t going to be gentle, she could tell from the way he ripped off his jacket and how hard he gripped her when he moved her to the bed, but gentle wasn’t what she was looking for.
He turned her to face the wall and started undressing her. His actions weren’t seductive. The zipper of her dress made a tearing noise as he pulled it down too fast. With efficient movements, like a man who knew his way around women’s clothes, he stripped her naked. His hands fell on her bare shoulders and smoothed down her back to her ass, caressing each cheek with a squeeze before he twirled her around. She stood in front of him, vulnerable and exposed, while he studied her from head to toe.
“You still want this?” he asked, breathing hard.
She nodded. It was all the affirmation he needed. With his palm between her breasts, he pushed her down on the mattress until she was flat on her back.
“This is the point of no return, Alice.” His gaze was steady, controlled and calm, but desire burned underneath the surface. “You know that, don’t you?”
“On one condition. I don’t want it to be like our first time. I want nothing to remind me of that night.”
His lashes dipped. When they finally lifted, some of the fire in his gaze was replaced with dejection. “What do you want?”
“Not gentle.”
“What are you asking of me, Princess?”
What did she want? She wanted him to wipe away the sweet, beautiful memory of their incredible lovemaking with something hard and fierce that would help her forget how good it could’ve been. She wanted him to stamp out the tender love he’d awoken and crush this never-ending emotional torment. She wanted to die in his arms so she could wake up when he was gone and start living, again. How could she explain all of that to him without confessing her feelings, without him knowing she never got over him?
“Tell me,” he urged.
“I don’t know.”
“I think I do.” He looked down at her as if he could see right into her soul. “Fine. Have it your way. I’ll give you what you want, but I’ll make it hurt so good.”