Page 45 of Endless Obsession

“---looking for a serious relationship. I know, Charlotte. You’ve told me. Enough times that I’m almost offended.” The smile that’s still on his mouth tells me that he isn’t, really. “I understand that you’re just out of a relationship—with a guy who is obviously a complete moron, by the way—and you want to explore. That’s fine. I get it.”

I look at him suspiciously. I can’t help it. I don’t know Ivan well, yet, but everything about him looks like he would be possessive. Like he would hate the idea of sharing me with anyone. And a small part of me wishes that he would say that he doesn’t want to. That he won’t be satisfied with anything less than making me entirely, completely his.

“Most men wouldn’t like that,” I say slowly.

Ivan smiles. “I’m not most men, Charlotte. I think you’ll realize that sooner rather than later. And something else that you’re going to figure out, once we’ve spent more time together, is that I want you. All you need to realize is that I’m capable of being and giving you everything you need.”

It’s the most arrogant, high-handed thing he’s said all night. The possible crack in his veneer of casual carelessness.

But it also takes my breath away.

His dark blue eyes hold mine, as he reaches out to touch my hand, sending another shiver down my spine. “I’m fine with you exploring, Charlotte, because I want you to be all in when you realize it.”

It feels hard to speak, for a moment. I feel my fingers involuntarily curl around the tips of his, not wanting to let go of his hand. “Why?” I ask softly, and something gleams in his blue eyes, an emotion that I’ve never seen before and can’t entirely read.

“Because, Charlotte,” he says softly, “when that happens, it’ll be it for us both. Forever.”

14

IVAN

Iwas a little afraid that my declaration might have scared her off. And I saw the shock in her face before she quickly hid it, saw the moment that she heard me say that, and wondered if I was crazy.

I’m pretty sure I am crazy. I’d have to be, to say that to a woman I’ve only talked to three times, a woman who would never, ever want me if she knew who I really was. But it’s the truth.

I didn’t mean to say forever. But when it slipped out, I didn’t want to take it back.

And that’s how I know I’ve really lost my mind to this woman.

Of course, I have every intention of making sure that no one else goes on a date with her. I’m not going to allow anyone to manage even coffee with her. But she doesn’t need to know that. And if she needs the illusion of having the freedom to explore until she’s fallen for me, then giving her that can’t be any worse than what I’m already doing.

I’ve committed sin after sin already against the way a relationship should happen. I’ve already crossed lines that she doesn’t even know she needed to draw. But I keep telling myself that it’s fine. That she doesn’t need to know. That I’ll figure out the consequences when the time comes.

I’m willing to play whatever game I need to in order to buy myself the time I need to win her over.

The rest of the evening goes off without a hitch. We get our seats at the theatre, and the hardest part of all of it is keeping my hands off of her in the darkened room. I can barely pay attention to the play, because so much of my attention is wrapped up in her. Every breeze wafts her scent towards me, the smell of coconut from her shampoo, and the sweet honey scent of whatever fragrance it is that she’s wearing. It brings back a memory of Masquerade that is entirely inappropriate for where we are, and I feel my cock stiffen abruptly, thickening along my leg and straining the fabric of my suit trousers. I shift in my seat, trying to push away the memories of how she felt on my mouth, hot and wet and sweet. The memory of her taste on my tongue, like the honey that she smells like.

God, I want to pull my cock out right here, yank her onto my lap and fuck her in front of all of these people. That fantasy only serves to make me harder, thinking about Charlotte impaled on my cock in the middle of this theatre, the man behind me a front-row witness to the pleasure on her face as she comes all over me.

I’d have to kill him after that.

The thought is so sharp, so unexpected, that it quells my arousal a little. This possessiveness is unlike me. I’ve fucked women on the public play floor at Masquerade before without a thought. Their screams of pleasure as everyone else witnessed how well I fucked them only adding to my own enjoyment. Charlotte shouldn’t be any different—-but the thought of anyone else seeing her eyes flutter and her mouth drop open with pleasure, the thought of anyone else witnessing her climax…it makes me feel murderous.

Like it should belong to me, and only me, ever again.

My hand tightens on my leg, curling into a fist as I fight not to reach over and touch her leg. I haven’t touched her at all tonight, which has required an immense amount of restraint on my part, but now I wonder if it’s been too much. If she’s going to think I’m uninterested, because I haven’t tried to touch her at all.

If she only knew how hard it is for me not to fuck her right here.

Slowly, I reach out, resting my hand on her knee. A jolt runs up my arm, like touching an electric wire, the feeling of her silky dress against my bare fingers making me ache. A touch that simple shouldn’t make me hard, but my receding erection comes back to life in an instant. I’m painfully stiff just from the curve of her knee against my palm.

I hear her soft, indrawn breath, and I wonder if she’ll pull away. But instead, she reaches out, her fingers grazing along the side of my hand—and then her hand curves over mine, resting there.

For the remainder of the play, we sit there like that, holding hands. And not even when I was a fucking teenager have I ever been so painfully turned on by that alone.

—

When I drop her back off at her apartment, I walk her to the front door. I wait to see if she’ll try to lean in for a kiss, and when she doesn’t, I don’t push it. I just smile at her, taking in the shy, almost hopeful expression on her face, and let the moment pass.

---