Chapter 8 Making Love to her



Unexpected Turn of Events



The sun was merciless that afternoon, beating down on the estate courtyard with a heat that made the air shimmer. Yet Lady Margaret, broad-shouldered, stoic, and impossibly rigid, had chosen today to teach flower trimming.

Ivanna could barely see straight.

Her head felt heavy, her body weak, her vision dim around the edges.

But she forced herself to stand there, pretending to pay attention while Lady Margaret droned on.

"You had better focus," Lady Margaret snapped without looking up. "You'll be trimming the next hedge."

Ivanna's eye twitched. Of all days...

Just then, a low, sleek engine hummed across the compound.

An impossibly rare black sports car glided up to the fountain, one of the three limited edition models launched that year. Even Ivanna, who didn't care about cars, knew how unattainable that machine was.

She tried to ignore it.

Really, she did.

But when the driver's silhouette emerged, tall, composed, elegant.

Her heart stalled.

Eugene.

Her SUPPOSED husband.

The man she hadn't seen in what felt like a lifetime.

He stepped out of the car with the kind of presence books struggled to describe.

His fitted charcoal trousers elongated his long legs.

His overcoat framed his tall, straight figure as if it were tailored by the gods themselves.

A scarf draped loosely around his neck, giving him a quiet nobility.

His dark hair caught the sunlight, and his sunglasses concealed half a face too handsome for her peace of mind.

Ivanna stared.

Completely, hopelessly stared.

He didn't smile.

He didn't rush.

He simply stood beside the car, looking every inch the unreachable prince.

When his gaze flicked in her direction, he paused...

...but only for a second.

Then he started walking toward them with slow, effortless grace.

Lady Margaret immediately straightened, dropping the trimming scissors.

"You are welcome, my prince," she said, almost bowing.

"Mm." His tone was faint, polite but distant. "I hope you've been well, Lady Margaret?"

"Very well, my prince."

"Good. And... thank you for your hard work. I know I've troubled you."

"No trouble at all, my prince."

"If you say so."

He spoke to her gently. Respectfully.

Something Ivanna had never been given.

Then, with not even a flicker of acknowledgement in Ivanna's direction,

he walked right past her, heading toward the main building.

Ivanna blinked.

Didn't pause.

Didn't look at her.

Didn't even breathe in her direction.

Just brushed by her as if she were the wind.

Ivanna stood frozen, unsure how to feel.

This woman, this frightening, muscular dragon, bowed to him with absolute respect.

And he... had ignored her completely.

Normally, she would've exploded, screamed, cursed the heavens and everyone under it.

She should be angry, furious even.

But instead...

Why am I... happy to see him?

The thought was ridiculous, yet there it was.

She wanted to be angry.

She wanted her freedom.

She had every reason to hate this marriage.

But seeing him today, so calm, so breathtaking.

she suddenly wished none of the chaos between them had happened.

Perhaps, in another life...

she might have fallen for someone like him.

Still dazed, she nearly jumped when Margaret barked again.

"I said pay attention!"

Ivanna rolled her eyes boldly and walked off.

"Ah! Acting rude because the prince is around?" Margaret scoffed. "Do you think he'll save you? You'll be back, girl! And I'll double your workload, insolent child!"

Margaret's voice thundered behind her.

Ivanna didn't even spare her a glance and headed inside..

She had one mission:

Get rid of that woman, one way or another.

But as soon as she reached her room, her strength drained. A wave of exhaustion washed over her. Her forehead throbbed, her body felt heavy, and before she could form a coherent plan...

She collapsed onto her bed.

Sleep claimed her quicker than she realized, feverish, uneasy.

When Ivanna finally opened her eyes, the sky outside had dimmed. Evening.

Panic jolted through her.

She shot up, still dizzy, and hurried out the door.

She needed to see him.

She prayed he was still around.

She needed to know if he was still here, or if he had already left her behind without a second thought.

She didn't bother knocking when she reached his room.

She entered and shut the door behind her with a soft, determined thud.

She inhaled deeply, gathering courage.

The room was empty.

But it was... stunning.

Like a private gallery, elegant, spacious, masculine, refined.

She had been here once before, but then she was too angry to notice anything.

Now she took in every detail, her eyes widening in awe.

Then...

A soft click.

A door within the room opened.

Ivanna turned, breath catching in her throat.

Eugene stepped into view.

He froze.

So did she.

He was bare from the waist up, only a towel wrapped around his hips.

Water still clung to his skin, glistening over defined muscles.

His dark hair was damp, pieces sticking to his forehead.

A drop rolled down his jawline and disappeared beneath the towel.

He looked like a sculpture brought to life.

But his eyes, sharp, shocked, cold, locked onto hers.

Ivanna felt her entire body tighten.

She clenched her fists behind her back to steady herself, refusing to break eye contact no matter how her heart pounded.

Eugene's lips parted slightly.

His brows drew together.

There was something like confusion, or disbelief, flickering there.

And yet... neither of them moved.

The air between them grew heavy.

Quiet.

Electrified.

Eugene's brow lowered, expression tightening.

He was surprised.

And not pleased.

But Ivanna...

couldn't look away.

She had stepped into the lion's den.

And the lion had just walked out of the shower.

Eugene noticed the way Ivanna's almond-shaped eyes wandered, hesitant at first, then lingering.

He walked past her slowly, as though giving her enough time to look away if she truly wanted to. She didn't.

He reached the bed, took a fresh towel, and dragged it through his damp hair, each motion unhurried.

"Finished ogling?" he said without looking at her, his voice smooth and cool as silk.

He picked up his robe, letting it fall loosely over his shoulders before sitting on the edge of the bed, one leg bent casually, completely unbothered.

"You plan on standing there all night?" He tilted his head at her. "Or did you come here to hit me again?"

Ivanna rolled her eyes, swallowing the sharp retort that burned on her tongue.

Not today. She needed her wits.

Eugene studied her openly. The stubborn set of her chin, the exhaustion darkening her eyes, the slight weight she'd lost. She looked stressed... but still ethereal. Irresistibly so.

Finally, she spoke, soft, unsure, unlike her usual fiery self.

"Are you staying for the night?"

He raised a brow. "Why? Planning to keep me company?"

"Can you stop being annoying?"

"Oh, now I'm the annoying one? Who walked in without knocking, invading my privacy, and staring like it's a hobby?"

Ivanna scoffed. "You have no right to talk about privacy."

Then she added in a small voice.

"Eugene or whatever your name is called, I am not in the mood to argue," she added in a calm voice.

Eugene gave a low, amused hum. "Interesting. Looks like Lady Margaret's training worked."

"You call that training?" she hissed.

He shrugged. "You're calmer today. That's... progress. Credit goes to her."

Ivanna snapped but fought so hard to contain it, then decided to leave before escalating things. "You know what? I'm leaving."

She spun toward the door, but the moment her fingers touched the handle, a metallic click echoed through the room.

She froze.

Eugene, still lounging on the bed, had pressed a button beside him.

The door was locked.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

He stretched lazily. "What does it look like?"

Ivanna pressed her palm flat against the locked door.

"Eugene," she snapped, "open this door."

From behind her, his voice floated lazily through the room.

"Why should I? You walked into my room on your own, didn't you?"

She clenched her teeth. "Don't get on my nerves."

He laughed softly, dangerously, then rose from the bed with slow, deliberate steps.

"And what exactly," he murmured, eyes glinting,

"would my little wife do if I did get on her nerves?"

He was provoking her, enjoying every second of her frustration.

Ivanna felt the heat rise in her chest, but instead of exploding, something inside her shifted.

Fine.

Two could play this game.

She turned around slowly, meeting his gaze head-on.

Then, before Eugene could predict her move, she stepped toward him,

closer...

closer,

until she was right beside him, then rising on her toes.

What she did next shocked him.

She KISSED him.

Bold.

Sudden.

Completely unanticipated.

Eugene froze for the briefest second.

A sharp shock ran through him...

a pulse of heat that spread from his lips to his entire body.

His hazel eyes darkened, narrowing at the audacity of her move.

He should push her away.

He should say something cutting, something cruel.

Except...

he didn't.

For some strange reasons...

He couldn't.

He noticed something immediately about her kiss.

It was clumsy, hesitant, inexperienced...

and that amused him more than it should have.

So that's your play, little wife?

His lips curved faintly.

If she wanted to provoke him, he would show her just how dangerous that game was.

His hand slid to her waist, pulling her in with a deliberate slowness that made her breath catch.

Then he tilted his head and captured her mouth with a kiss that erased every thought in her head.

Eugene pinned Ivanna's wrists above her head with one strong hand, rendering her helpless and at his mercy. Before she could even catch her breath, he claimed her mouth in another searing kiss that set her entire body aflame. His lips moved over hers with skillful precision, alternating between deep, dominating thrusts of his tongue and teasing nibbles that left her lips tingling.

It was deep...

sure...

commanding.

Absolutely...

Ivanna's knees nearly gave way.

The scorching heat of his mouth consumed her, melting away any semblance of coherent thought. Ivanna felt like she was drowning in sensation, her limbs growing weak and pliant as a tidal wave of desire crashed over her.

She suddenly finds herself arching into him, desperate for more contact, more of his intoxicating touch.

Eugene's other hand explored her body with brazen confidence, sliding under her shirt to map the contours of her waist and ribs.

Before she could catch her own breath, Eugene lifted her effortlessly and laid her on the bed. His grip on her wrists was firm but gentle, pinning them above her head, not to restrain her, but to keep her from running from what she had started.

"Still provoking me?" he murmured against her lips, his breath warm.

Ivanna's heart thudded violently.

She had meant to annoy him,

not ignite him.

His mouth met hers again, slower this time, more purposeful...

and all the fight inside her melted into something warm, dizzy, overwhelming.

Her body softened beneath him.

Her breath stuttered.

Heat pooled low in her stomach, unfamiliar and frightening.

Eugene felt it all.

And the look in his eyes changed,

from amusement

to something darker, deeper, devastatingly intense.

His fingers brushed her cheek, her jawline,

gentle, almost reverent.

The air between them thickened.

Her pulse hammered.

His lips trailed a whisper of a kiss at the corner of her mouth.

Then suddenly, Eugene's hands were everywhere, stripping away the barriers between them with single-minded focus. He peeled off her shirt, tossing it aside carelessly, before deftly unhooking her bra. Cool air hit her heated skin, puckering her nipples into tight peaks.

All the while, he devoured her mouth, swallowing her gasps and whimpers. His tongue plundered her depths, staking his claim, marking her as his. Ivanna writhed beneath him, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensation.

Her struggles only seemed to inflame his passion.

As the initial fog of lust began to lift, Ivanna found herself suddenly lucid, realizing the dangerous position she was in. Panic surged through her veins and she started to struggle in earnest, twisting and bucking beneath Eugene's larger frame.

But at this point, it was too late, and Eugene, he was relentless, easily overpowering her weaker attempts at resistance. His mouth claimed hers again, kissing her with such skill and intensity that coherent thought scattered like leaves in the wind.

Ivanna felt herself growing dizzy, lightheaded, as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the room.

Before she could process what was happening, before she could scream or fight or flee, Eugene was already inside her. The sudden intrusion stole her breath, pain and pleasure intertwining in a dizzying spiral.

Ivanna cried out, the sound muffled against Eugene's mouth as he swallowed her protests.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, both from the sting of penetration and the overwhelming emotions swirling inside her. She felt violated, used, utterly powerless against his strength.

Yet even as revulsion churned in her gut, her treacherous body responded to his touch. Sparks of unwanted pleasure radiated from where they were joined, her inner muscles fluttering around his invading length.

Shame burned hot on her cheeks as she realized how wet she'd become, how easily her body accepted him despite her mind's rebellion.

Eugene's thrusts remained deep but gentler now, hitting that secret spot inside her with maddening accuracy.

Pleasure built steadily, coiling tighter and tighter in her core with each drag of his cock against her sensitive walls.

Ivanna bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, torn between the urge to push him away and the traitorous need to pull him closer.

Her hips twitched, caught between fighting and meeting his thrusts.

Eugene felt the change in her, the subtle shift from resistance to reluctant acceptance. Encouraged, he increased the pace of his thrusts, each snap of his hips driving him deeper, harder.

The new angle allowed him to grind against her clit with every movement, sending jolts of electric pleasure shooting through her body.

"F#ck, you are damn tight," he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. Sweat beaded on his brow as he focused intently on her reactions, tweaking and adjusting until he found the rhythm that made her toes curl.

Ivanna's breath came in short, sharp gasps, her chest heaving with each thrust. Despite herself, she could feel the coil of tension in her belly winding tighter and tighter, pushing her inexorably towards the edge.

And then...

the night closed around them, soft and consuming, as their world pulled together and disappeared behind a gentle, intimate darkness.

-Fade to black as they continued to make love-