A hand, not at all gentle, grabs my hair then uses it to send me to my knees. I go willingly, wet and aching for him. From the beginning Ivan is in charge, taking what he needs; it’s the first time I’ve ever felt used. I wonder if I should feel insulted, instead of grateful and so fucking turned on I barely need to touch myself before I’m shaking in orgasm. Ivan comes seconds after I do, his grip tightening before he lets me go. I almost fall, but manage to catch myself against the center island.
By the time I look up Ivan is already pulling on his pants. On shaky legs I get back into the chair. In the mirror I watch him dress. He’s wearing a tuxedo, and he could be on a billboard he’s so gorgeous. Straightening the bow tie, he looks down at me finally. “You only have fifteen minutes. I’ll be downstairs.”
I nod but he’s already gone. Sighing, I know what dress I’m going to wear. I had thought of it then decided on another; now I feel I owe him the dress. Rolling on the black silk stockings, I understand the appeal—it feels sexy putting them on alone. I fasten them to the lace belt, satisfied, hoping Ivan will be too.
It’s a short illusion lace black dress. Zipping it up, I turn and damn, he is going to be so mad. I can’t wait. An illusion dress gives the impression of skin on display with a soft tan fabric under the dress. A halter neck leaves my back completely bare—that isn’t an illusion. Lace runs over my breasts in a swirl of leaves, sheer black begins just under my breasts then runs down to below my waist, before more lace runs over my bikini area down to where it ends mid-thigh.
If I were to bend over, it would be obscene. Satisfied, I check the clock. We have two minutes before we need to leave. I grab my tiny black bag and slip on leather black flats. I take my time going downstairs.
Ivan is pacing the large hall. When he sees me he stops in his tracks. I get wet at the way I see his cock harden at the sight of me. By the time I get to him he’s made of stone.
“Go change.” It’s an order.
I shake my head. “I can’t, we’ll be late. We wouldn’t want to ruin Gemma’s night, would we?”
“You can go upstairs now and change or pay the price when we get home.”
I don’t even bother to answer, simply walk away. We’re being driven tonight, so Ivan can enjoy a few glasses of champagne.
He slams into the car, vibrating with rage. “Just remember, I warned you.”
I’m looking forward to it.
***
Christina
The ceremony is beautiful. I want to lean against him, for him to put his arm around me, but he’s still too mad. I got what I wanted, for now.
In the ballroom we’re at the head table in between Gemma and Hannah. For Gemma’s sake both Ivan and I smile and speak to Hannah but the moment Gemma steps away, neither of us are able to hide our true feelings. Hannah tries to talk to Ivan but he freezes her out, so she gives up and goes to sit with some friends. I hate being here—there are too many people looking our way. It doesn’t matter most of them are looking at Aari and Gemma, several of them are eyeing me with speculation. It’s a little better when the dancing starts and most people are on the dance floor.
I take the offer of champagne from the waiter with a smile.
Ivan frowns.
“It’s only my third,” I mutter as I drink it.
“You are also not eating anything. Either eat more or no more champagne.”
“Excuse me, you’re not the boss of me, for fuck’s sake. If I want a glass of champagne then I will have a glass of champagne.”
His left arm goes along the back of my chair as he turns to me, leaning his head down over me. To anyone watching it would be an intimate, private moment, but for me it’s scary. Ivan is pissed.
Taking the glass from my hand, he sets it down. He grazes his lips along the spot where my neck meets my throat—he’s going to leave a mark. I welcome it. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to anger me. Are you trying to anger me, Christina?”
His right hand comes down on my silk-covered thigh. He stiffens as his hand moves up to find the edge of the stocking, then trails over my bare skin. I shudder as his breath catches, he bites down hard on my neck, and a gush of liquid heat makes my panties so damn wet.
“You’d better be wearing panties.” The words are barely understandable. A finger runs along the wet slit of my panties. “Good girl.”
I tremble as he draws the panties to the side.
“Were you trying to anger me, Christina? Or is this what you wanted, my love? All of my attention, my hands all over you.”
I bite my lip to keep from moaning.
“Open your legs, be a good girl for me.”
I shake my head. Holy shit, there are people everywhere. No one is sitting at this table, but only a hundred feet away there are people standing and talking.