#i carnally desire hhim.

[musebluebird]

Ivan couldn't help but smirk slightly when he heard her. That was his girl, always willing to redouble the bet. Wait. His girl?. Jeez. There were many reasons why he couldn't think like that. The main one being that attachment was always a bad idea but especially with Lydia. The woman seemed willing to make him lose all his patience and Ivan could swear she didn't know the word 'calm' by definition. She was like a devastating tsunami ready to destroy everything in her path and Ivan couldn't allow himself to be swept away by 'Hurricane Lydia'. There was no way he could be vulnerable in front of Lydia. Mainly because that would be giving Lydia a lot of power that he was not willing to give up. It was all about power dynamics and in that marriage he expected to be on the positive side of the balance. No matter how idiotic that sounded, he just couldn't open up to someone like that. Allowing himself to be cared about in such a profound way. It was a position he simply couldn't be in if he didn't want to be vulnerable to any enemy. If he allowed to care about Lydia, to really care about her, the problem was going to be protecting her from everything that could happen to her thanks to the fact that she was married to hhim. He was so screwed up that he didn't even want to think about it.

He let out a gruff growl, a little caught off guard by her movement. The brush of her fingers on his pants sent a shock of blood to his cock. Leaving his cock near Lydia was a potential danger - considering that she wanted to cut his head off less than an hour ago - was too bold a move. The desire he had for her was carnal, he needed to bury himself deep in her like he had never needed anything else before. His tongue teased, gently tracing her neck before returning his attention to her earlobe and beginning to nibble it gently. His hand kneaded her ass. He wanted to smashed it, he wanted to leave some marks around her body.

He was about to kneel down to show Lydia exactly how much he wanted her when he heard the sound of the elevator and the doors opened. Dammit. That ride hadn't been long enough for him. He hadn't even had time to show her exactly what he was talking about. To get on his knees to show her - with more than words - that he really wanted her. However, they always had that night and possibly every night after that one to take it easy. Ivan was impatient as hell tho but he was going to have to wait unless he wanted a search party sent out for them. He wanted to take his time with Lydia. A quickie was always exciting but Ivan had a feeling that no quickie was going to be effective enough if he wanted to get Lydia out of his system. "I guess you'll just have to be patient, honey." He scoffed with a wink, pulling away from her to lead her out of the elevator. Now she had to change her shoes and go back to the party. With each step he took, Ivan was more and more certain that maybe he should tell everyone to fuck off and just disappear with his wife.

He gave a small nod to the guard at the room's door. The man returned the nod before beginning to walk down the hallway giving them some privacy. Ivan put someone to watch the door just to be sure. Not because he thought there was any threat or anything of value in there but the last thing he needed was to be have troubles later. He took the swipe card from his suit jacket before opening the door. It's not that he was rude - his mother would have his ass cause he didn't let Lydia walk in first - or didn't trust his own man but he was careful. He still went in taking a quick look around the room before looking at her. Almost as if they hadn't been about to have sex in the elevator and feigning complete insanity about what had just happened between them. Ivan simply took off his jacket and crouched in front of his wife, "Let me help you with those death traps before you break your neck, sweetheart" The whole nickname thing had become fun for him, an easy way to downplay the whole situation. He took all the time in the world to undo the strap on her heels and finally taking out her feet of those death traps, allowing him to brush her skin with his fingertips slowly while doing so "So tell me, how are your two braincells doing, wife?"

This man, her husband, was full of surprises, wasn't he? Lydia wasn't an idiot, had seen firsthand what a dangerous man he was and all that he was capable of. She couldn't stand him; he was an asshole, a man who was too big for his own boots, one who needed knocking down a peg or two. Or ten. Yet he had an answer for every single one of her sarcastic rebuttals, and could at least entertain a stimulating conversation with her. And now, without doing a lot, it felt like every fiber of her being was stimulated - and he'd barely touched her. When this whole arranged marriage thing was thrown at her, she made a vow to herself to make life hell for both Ivan and her father who was far too keen on throwing his daughter at some person she found despicable. Her relationship with her father had been rocky at best, but his insistence on this marriage and how he even seemed to like the idea - for his own twisted benefits most likely, ones of which she would rather choose not to think about - it had only further added nails to the coffin of their relationship. Up until their wedding day, she had fought and fought to get out of it. Hauled any and every venomous, horrible, spiteful word she could at him, accusations galore strewn. But all in all, Lydia got her stubbornness from her father and as much as she did not back down, he didn't either. Now she was here. She didn't want to think of that wretched man any longer. She had no benefit to get out of him... But Ivan? As much as she detested him and would not mind seeing his head on a stick... at least being around him could have some benefits. Even if Lydia could not admit that to herself. Had too much dignity and self-preservation to uphold.

The urge to restrain herself was wearing thin. The scent of his cologne filled her nostrils, was wild and untamed and enticing; it clung to him like a second skin, a reminder of the primal connection that simmered just beneath the surface. The fragrance crackled with an intensity that mirrored smoldering embers, leaving her eager to explore the depths of his allure. Almost too eager. So much for having two brain cells. In the current moment, Lydia felt like she'd lost all grasp on reality. Because what the hell was she doing? Something in the back of her mind, maybe a voice of reason, was trying to tell her she was heading down a path she didn't want to go down. But if that was the case, why was her body responding differently? Why did the other part of her brain want her to say screw self-preservation and throw herself at him, wanted to wrap her legs around his waist and let Ivan have his way with her. But she didn't - because as restless and impatient she was becoming, that was too easy. This felt like a little game between them, like almost a competition to see who would completely cave first. At the moment, it felt like Ivan had the upper hand for now. But Lydia was still determined to try. It would be rude not to. Hearing him utter those three words, how he wanted her, drove her wild, the smug satisfaction sending yet another jolt of electric desire straight to her already aching core. How someone she found so horrible could also be so hot at the same time was simply unfair. And so fucking confusing.

"What I want?" Lydia repeated in almost surprise, the question caught her off guard, and she was unable to help her ragged breathing at the simple actions of well - just about everything he was doing. His breath against her neck, how his finger drawn across her lower lip, the kiss behind her ear. He was capable of asking her what she wanted? That was new. Probably the first time anyone has actually asked her what she wanted since she was thrown into this whole ordeal. Her eyes opened at the question and she glanced to the ceiling as if considering her answer. Lydia wanted many things, where would she begin? Humming thoughtfully, she shrugged. "I want you to prove it," she settled with. "Prove that you want me. Actions speak louder than words, don't they?" she insisted, her voice barely above a whisper as she still tried to remain semi-composed. One could argue that the evidence was already there with the prominent bulge pressed against her, but she wanted to see how far she could push. Feeling a bit daring, perhaps even as bold as he was, she slid her hand lower, in between them, her nimble fingertips 'innocently' stroked against his crotch as she leaned into him. The anticipation burned her insides, and his next question caused her to let out a choked gasp, spurning her on all the more. She pressed her hand firmer against the strained fabric of his trousers, leaning up to press her lips against his ear. Her breath was hot on his skin. "Maybe so, husband. Why don't you slide your hand there and find out for yourself, hmm?" She basically gave him permission. The answer was without a doubt, yes. Already soaking. She could hate someone and still want to have sex with them. Even if they were her spouse.