Page 57 of Endless Obsession
Out of sheer instinct, I try to pull away, and in the momentary struggle, I feel his shoe step on the hem of my dress, a ripping sound cutting through the thick air between us. I freeze, spinning to face him just as he backs me against the wall of the stairwell.
“You tore my dress,” I whisper. “That was expensive. Sarah bought it for me, and now?—”
“I’ll pay for it. Whatever it costs.” He moves closer, crowding me in, and my pulse kicks up a notch, fluttering in my throat. This close, I can smell not just his cologne but his skin, warm and musky, the masculine scent of him filling my senses. His body is pinning me to the wall, hot and hard, his hands landing on my hips and skimming up my ribs.
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” he whispers, those dark blue eyes searching mine. His hips press closer, and I bite my lip, stifling the sound I want to make at the feeling of him pressing against my thigh. He’s hard, a thick, solid line against me through the fabric of his suit and my dress, and I realize with a flush of heat that he’s big. Bigger than any man I’ve been with before.
“The wrong idea about what?” I can hear the bitterness in my voice. “You being here with another woman?”
“You could have been here with another man.” His hands slide up to just below my breasts, fingers gripping as he holds me firmly in place. My pulse is beating wildly, my heart on the verge of pounding out of my chest. No one has ever touched me like this before. I’ve never felt so helpless, so trapped—or so completely, thoroughly aroused.
If Ivan tried to fuck me in this stairwell right now, I’m not entirely sure I would tell him no.
“You said no exclusivity.” His dark eyes glitter. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, but—” I try to swallow, my mouth dry. My head feels foggy. I can’t think past the feeling of his hard cock against me, his hands rubbing up and down my ribs, as if he wants to feel me through the silk and boning of my dress. As if he’s imagining the sensation of my skin against his palms instead. “I?—”
“You were jealous. Because even though you can’t admit it, you want me all to yourself.” He leans in, his mouth skimming along my ear, and it takes everything in me not to moan. My knees feel like they’re turning to water, the weight of his body against me the only thing keeping me upright. “But I have good news for you, Charlotte. I don’t actually care about the woman with me tonight.”
“You—” I blink, trying to make sense of that in my lust-fogged mind. “So why are you here with her?”
Ivan lifts one shoulder in a careless shrug. “Family obligations. Easier to say yes to my father than to say no. I really did want to tell you at lunch, before you had to run, to avoid exactly this. Although—” His hips rock against me again, and my head falls back against the wall, a breathless gasp escaping my lips. I’ve never wanted a man inside me as badly as I want him right now. I want to know what he feels like, hot and hard, sliding against my stomach as he kisses me, nudging inside of me as I wrap my legs around him.
“Now, I’m starting to be glad I didn’t tell you,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over the shell of my ear again. “Because if I had, I don’t think we’d be here like this—” His hips press into me again, and this time, I can’t help the small, whispery moan that escapes my lips. “Doing this, right now.”
His mouth drops to my lips as he surges against me, and the kiss is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s hard, urgent, hungry, his mouth devouring mine as his hands grip my wrists and pin them against the wall, holding me entirely captive.
My lips part underneath his, and his tongue sweeps into my mouth. He tastes like wine, dry and earthy, and my body arches into him involuntarily, wanting more. I never knew a kiss could feel like this, that it could make me hot all over and shivering at the same time, my body tight and aching for sensations that I’ve only ever imagined, so soaking wet that I can feel it.
His teeth catch my lower lip, and he sucks on it briefly, his hard chest pressed to mine as he holds me there, our mouths connected as the kiss slows. My pulse is beating wildly in my throat, and I tip my chin up, wanting more of the desperate, devouring kiss. Wanting more of him.
But then I hear the door click above us, and I know this moment is about to come to an end.
“Ivan.” That musical voice floats down the stairs. “It’s cold outside. And we need to go back to the party.”
If nothing else, the utter carelessness in her voice makes me believe him. There’s nothing about this woman that suggests that she’s angry to not only have found Ivan out on the balcony with me, but then having to wait outside while he kisses me recklessly in a stairwell. Truthfully, she doesn’t seem to care at all. If anything, she seems mildly annoyed that her evening is being interrupted.
Ivan pulls back, breathing hard, his carefully styled hair messy around his face. He runs his fingers through it, pushing it back, and looks down at me with a heat in his gaze that nearly makes my legs buckle. “We’ll finish this later,” he murmurs, his voice husky and full of promise, and then he turns, nodding to the woman as he starts back down the stairs. She follows without even bothering to look at me, trailing behind him as they both disappear from view.
I stand there, breathless for several moments, my head spinning as I try to piece together what just happened. It all feels like it happened in a rush, faster than I could process it.
When I feel like I can breathe again, I look down at the hem of my skirt. It’s torn at the edge, but nothing so bad that anyone will likely even notice. Nothing that will stop me from going back to the table and resuming the evening.
I suck in a slow, shaky breath, trying to regain my composure. I want to believe that Ivan is telling me the truth, that there’s nothing between him and the oddly detached woman. I want to believe that he’s as fully mine as he claims to be, even though I know that isn’t entirely fair to want.
Slowly, I walk back down the stairs, going to rejoin Sarah at the table. I scan the room as I sit down, noticing that Ivan is sitting at the very far end, next to the woman in the rose-gold dress. She’s barely even looking at him, her gaze off somewhere in the distance, her expression utterly bored. By contrast, when I look for Nate, I see that the woman he came here with is animatedly chatting with him, her long diamond earrings swaying back and forth as she speaks, fluttering pale hands tipped with sharp nails.
Not a fellow lawyer, then—no one could do casework all day with nails like those. I tear my gaze away, telling myself that it doesn’t do any good to fixate on what the woman with Nate does. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter.
“Are you alright?” Sarah asks concernedly, putting a hand on my arm. “You look a little flushed, and you were gone for a while. Do you need something? Another drink, maybe?”
“More wine would be nice,” I admit, licking my lips nervously. Dessert was brought while I was gone; there’s a cold dish of crème brûlée at my place setting. I pick up a teaspoon and chip at the sugary crust with it, just to have something to do with my hands.
Sarah nods, waving one of the servers over, and replacing my empty glass of wine with a full one. I reach for it with trembling fingers, and when I glance over at her, her expression is still concerned.
“Do you want to just call an Uber and go home?” she asks, a small line appearing on her smooth forehead. “It seems like Nate being here really upset you. I would have warned you if I’d known, I promise.”
“It’s fine,” I reassure her quickly. “I know you would have. But maybe—” I look up just then, seeing Ivan escorting the woman onto the dance floor, his hand on the small of her back, and my stomach clenches. “Okay, yeah. Maybe I should head out. I’m sorry?—”