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“You want this, don’t you, Isabella?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly. “You want me to fuck you until you scream?”
I nod frantically, biting my lip as I gaze up at him. Andrey smirks, slamming me against the shower wall as he thrusts into me with one swift motion. I cry out, my nails digging into his shoulders as he starts to move, each stroke hitting me deeper than the last.
Andrey’s hands roam over my body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He pinches my nipples, tugging on them roughly as he grinds his pelvis against my clit. I can feel myself spiraling closer to the edge, my orgasm building with each passing second.
“Cum for me, Isabella,” Andrey commands, his voice laced with dominance as his thumb presses against my swollen clit. “I want to feel you tighten around my cock as you scream my name.”
His words send me over the edge, my body convulsing as I cum hard and fast. Andrey follows shortly after, his release filling me as he groans my name. We stand there for a moment, panting and spent before Andrey finally pulls out and sets me down gently.
As we wash each other off, I can’t help but feel a sense of contentment wash over me. Despite the danger lurking just outside the door, I know that as long as I’m with Andrey, I’ll be safe—I put the doubt about our different outlooks and upbringing aside. For now, I need him. When this is all over, I’ll worry about the future.
My legs still feel like jelly when we’re dressed, and I can’t help but grin when I see Andrey in his sandy blond wig.
“Blond suits you.”
“You look good too.” He reaches out and straightens the straight black bobbed wig. “There. Perfect.” He kisses my forehead. “I wish we had time for me to show you just how perfect.”
My pussy, still tender from the shower, clenches, and I know I’m getting wet again as my clit pulses greedily. Fuck! I’ve turned into a nympho! It’s the pregnancy, I remind myself. Stacy warned me it tended to make women horny, forgetful, and want weird shit to eat in between running to pee a lot more.
“Haven’t we just had sex?” I feel my cheeks heat a little at the look he gives me.
“Oh, princess…” Andrey sighs. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”
My heart jolts, but I swallow down the sensation that grips my heart and makes my breath catch in my throat. Slow down there, Isabella, I warn myself. This truce and getting along with Andrey is just temporary until all this shit has been sorted out. I don’t know what I’m going to do after that, and I’m still sure I can’t live in this world.
I step aside and walk to the dressing room, taking my mother’s locket and shoving it in my pocket. I can’t put it on in case we get photographed somewhere. You can’t have anything on you that you can be identified by. The voice of my survival specialist coach rings in my head. I look in the mirror and notice how tight the jeans and shirt that were in the duffel Rodrigo had paced for us.
“I think when we pass a smaller town after Montreal, I need to get some new go clothes.” I do a twirl for him to see how snug my jeans and top are.
“Fuck.” Andrey sucks in a breath. “You look amazing to me.” His eyes travel over my body like a caress. “We should keep the wig and get you a nurse’s outfit,” he teases.
My eyes fall on his crotch, and I see the bulge grow in his jeans. My pussy instantly reacts once again with a little throb, and just like that, desire starts to swirl through me again. Jesus, it’s not just the pregnancy—I’m a fucking nympho!
“We should go.” My voice is squeaky as I start stuffing our clothes and transferring things from my shopping bag into the duffel. “You get the picnic basket. Are there sandwiches that I could perhaps eat on the way to the train station?”
“I think so.” Andrey opens the basket and rummages through it. “Do you want a turkey one?” His brow furrows. “Are you still hungry after all those pancakes?”
“Are you food shaming me?” I put the bag across my shoulder, and snatch the turkey sandwich that Andrey took out of the picnic basket.
His brows shoot up. “No.” He shakes his head. “I was asking, that’s all.”
My eyes narrow as I look at him. “Okay.” I turn and head for the back door. “I don’t need you picking on what I eat or how fat I’m getting.”
Before I reach the door, his hand grabs my shoulder, and he spins me around. His eyes are dark with anger. “Let’s get one thing straight.” His voice is low. “I think watching your body grow and swell with my kids is going to be beautiful. While I will watch what you eat to ensure you’re eating properly and nutritiously, I understand you’re going to have cravings.“ He places a hand on my stomach. “That’s not shaming you, Isabella. I would never do that. But I will look after you and our children—always.”
I nod. “We… uh… need to go.” I really need to start controlling these whiplash emotions that hit me over the weirdest shit that wouldn’t usually bother me.
Andrey lets me go, and I lead the way out of the room, taking a bit of the sandwich as I walk out the back door.
Andrey follows me silently, watching and taking in everything around us. We skirt around the edge of the murky pool, and I shudder, trying not to think about anyone swimming in it.
“God, I really hope parents don’t swim in there, let alone let their kids swim in that.”
“Christ, I hope not.” Andrey eyes the murky water with disgust before taking my free hand in his.
We stroll around the pool with our picnic basket, holding hands and me munching my food, looking like a couple about to go to the park behind the motel for an early morning picnic.
“The parks are nice, at least,” I tell him as we walk across the path and head into the center of town. Our hands stay linked while we walk, and I’m surprised to find that I enjoy feeling connected to Andrey like this.
