“You’re damn right you’re with me,” I growl, my voice low and rough. “And don’t you ever forget it.”

Before she can respond, I crash my lips against hers, the kiss rough and demanding, leaving no room for protest. It’s not gentle or soft—there’s nothing tender about the way I claim her mouth, the way I pour all my anger, my frustration, and my desire into the kiss. Her hands push against my chest for a moment, as if she’s trying to resist, but I don’t let her pull away. Instead, I press her harder against the wall, my body pinning hers, showing her exactly who she belongs to.

Sarah lets out a muffled gasp, her lips parting beneath mine, and I take the opportunity to deepen the kiss, my tongue tangling with hers in a heated dance. Her resistance crumbles, her hands moving from my chest to my shoulders, clutching at me as if she can’t decide whether to push me away or pull me closer. I take that as a victory, my grip on her chin tightening slightly as I tilt her head back, deepening the kiss even more.

I pull back just enough to speak, my breath hot against her lips. “You’re mine, Sarah,” I murmur, my voice a rough whisper. “Only mine, don’t fucking forget it.”

The words are a declaration, a vow, and I don’t wait for her to respond. I capture her lips again, this time with a bruising intensity that leaves no doubt in her mind who she belongs to. My free hand moves to her waist, sliding beneath the fabric of her shirt, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips.Her body arches into mine, a soft moan escaping her lips, and I can feel the heat between us, the desire that simmers just beneath the surface.

I drag my lips down her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there, savoring the way she quivers beneath my touch. Her hands find their way to my hair, her fingers tangling in the strands as she pulls me closer, a silent plea for more. The sound of her soft gasps, the way her body responds to me, only fuels the fire burning inside me.

“Mine,” I growl against her skin, my voice thick with possession.

She moans in response, her fingers tightening in my hair as she tilts her head back, giving me better access to her throat. I take full advantage, dragging my tongue along the sensitive skin, feeling the way her body trembles under my touch. Her reactions only spur me on, driving me to claim her with an intensity that borders on desperate.

I slip my hand under her shirt, sliding it up to cup her breast, feeling the soft weight in my palm. She arches into my touch, her breath hitching as I brush my thumb over her hardened nipple, teasing it through the thin fabric of her bra. Her hips buck against mine, seeking more, and I grind against her, letting her feel how hard I am, how much I want her.

“Do you feel that?” I murmur against her ear, my voice low and rough. “That’s what you do to me, Sarah. No one else—just you.”

She whimpers, her hands sliding down to my shoulders, clutching at me as if she’s afraid I’ll pull away. There’s no chance of that. Not now, not ever. I push her shirt up, exposing her skinto the cool air, and she gasps as I dip my head, taking her nipple into my mouth through the lace of her bra. I suck hard, biting down just enough to make her cry out, her nails digging into my shoulders.

“Ivan, please,” she moans, her voice filled with a need that matches my own. “I need you.”

The sound of her begging sends a jolt of satisfaction through me, and I quickly rid her of her bra, tossing it aside before pulling her shirt over her head. I capture her mouth in a bruising kiss, my hands roaming over her bare skin, feeling the way she shudders beneath me, the way she clings to me as if I’m the only thing keeping her grounded.

With one swift movement, I lift her off her feet, wrapping her legs around my waist as I press her against the wall. She gasps, her hands gripping my shoulders as I thrust into her, desperate,wanting.

I break the kiss, dragging my lips down her throat, across her collarbone, savoring the way she trembles in my arms. “You’re mine, Sarah,” I murmur against her skin, my voice thick with possession. “I’m never letting you go.”

“Yes,” she breathes, her voice shaky but filled with raw need. “I’m yours.”

Her words are my undoing. With a growl, I lower us both to the floor, her back hitting the hardwood as I cover her body with mine, kissing her fiercely, possessively, letting her feel the depth of my need for her.

I fuck her in a heated frenzy, hands exploring, bodies pressing closer, seeking more, demanding more. Her gasps andmoans fill the room, mingling with my own as we lose ourselves in each other, the world outside fading into nothingness.

Finally I feel her tighten around me, her nails digging into my back as she cries out my name, her release hitting her hard. I follow her over the edge moments later, groaning against her neck as I find my own release, the pleasure crashing over me like a wave.

We collapse together, both of us spent, our bodies tangled on the floor. I hold her close, my chest heaving as I struggle to catch my breath, the aftershocks of our lovemaking still pulsing through me. She’s trembling in my arms, her head resting against my shoulder, her breath warm against my skin.

I press a kiss to her temple, feeling a surge of satisfaction as I hold her tight, knowing she’s mine in every way that matters.

She sighs, her body relaxing against me, her eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion overtakes her. We lie there together, the world outside forgotten, lost in the aftermath of our passion, and I know, without a doubt, that I’ll never let her go.

Chapter Eighteen

Sarah

I stand in the changing room, slipping into the black dress Ivan picked out for me. The fabric clings to my curves, the hemline cutting daringly high, leaving little to the imagination. This entire shopping trip was Ivan’s idea, his way of making sure I wear exactly what he wants when we return to the States. He didn’t even bother to hide his reasons, casually mentioning that he wouldn’t have the time once we got back, so it had to be now.

I take a deep breath, smoothing the dress over my hips before stepping out into the main area of the boutique. Ivan is waiting for me, leaning casually against a plush armchair, his eyes lifting from his phone the moment he hears my footsteps.

His gaze roams over my body, slow and deliberate, making my skin tingle under the intensity of his scrutiny. For a moment, the air between us thickens, charged with something electric. Finally, his lips curve into a satisfied smirk.

“You look stunning,” he says, his voice low, almost a purr. “I don’t want other men seeing all of this.” His eyes darken, the possessiveness clear in his tone.

I glance down at the dress, realizing how revealing it is, and a small part of me isn’t surprised by his reaction. Ivan has always been possessive, always needing to assert his control. It’s something I’ve grown used to, though it still rubs me the wrong way at times. But I know better than to argue. Instead, I nod and turn back to the changing room to try on the next dress he’s chosen.

This one is different—still elegant, but more modest, the hemline falling just above my knees, the neckline higher, leaving much more to the imagination. I slip it on, the soft fabric feeling like a second skin, and take a moment to appreciate how well it fits. Ivan’s taste is impeccable, I’ll give him that.