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He’s so deep, hitting places that make my eyes roll back. Every thrust punches the air out of my lungs. I can feel another orgasm building.
“Andrei! I’m gonna—”
I come hard, screaming his name as I squirt all over my stomach, his abs, and the sheets beneath us. The release is so intense my vision whites out for a second.
Andrei groans as he follows right after me, spilling deep inside my pussy with hot, thick pulses.
My whole body feels like jelly, boneless and trembling. I hiss softly when he finally pulls out, already missing the fullness.
He stays between my legs, using two fingers to push his cum back inside me. It’s filthy and strangely sensual at the same time. I watch through half-lidded eyes as he makes sure every drop stays.
Then he lies down beside me and slips those same fingers between my lips.
I suck them clean, tasting both of us mixed together, salty, musky, intimate. It makes my pussy clench.
I’m already drifting off, eyelids heavy, when I mumble, “Are you going to be here when I wake up?”
“Yeah,” he answers softly, pulling me into his chest.
“I don’t like it when I don’t wake up to you in bed with me,” I whisper against his skin.
He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be here when you wake up, baby. I promise.”
I snuggle closer, letting his strong arms wrap tightly around me. Just as sleep pulls me under, I hear him whisper against my hair, so quiet I almost miss it:
“I love you.”
My heart stutters, a warm, terrifying flutter blooming in my chest. Am I dreaming it? I fall asleep with those three words echoing in my mind.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rosie
I’ve been married to Andrei for a while now, and still, I haven’t gotten used to his influence.
Right now, we’re sitting in a Michelin-star restaurant that usually takes months to get a reservation. But Andrei manages to get us a table in less than an hour, all because I casually mention how I’ve always wished I could eat here. He simply tells me to get dressed, and here we are.
As he sits across from me, scanning the menu, I study his handsome profile, the sharp line of his jaw, the dark sweep of his hair, the calm, controlled expression on his face.
“How did you manage to get us in here at such short notice?”
He shrugs, not even looking up from the menu. “You said you wanted to eat here, so here we are. Whatever my wife wants, she gets.”
The words tug at something deep inside my chest. Andrei has always gone out of his way to make sure I get the things I want, no matter how small they seem.
After I finally told him about the things my family did to me, I know he paid them a visit. Angie is a nurse, and she told me my father and stepmother were brought into the ER the following morning after I had opened up to Andrei. My father beaten badly, with a gunshot wound to his leg and barely conscious, and Sarah found unconscious after nearly drowning in the swimming pool. A neighbor had discovered them and called 911.
When I asked Andrei if he had anything to do with it, his response was a shrug.
Every doubt I had about Andrei paying them a visit disappeared when I later saw on social media that my father’s and Sarah’s family business had been shut down, exposed for fraud and illegal dealings.
Again, when I asked Andrei, he simply shrugged. And when I confronted him about the promise he made not to hurt them, he corrected me in that quiet, dangerous voice of his.
“I promised I wouldn’t kill them, and I didn’t. But I will make sure they pay for everything they did to you.”
I should feel sorry for their predicament, but honestly I don’t. I don’t feel anything when I think about them. When Angie informed me about my dad being badly injured, I waited to see if I was going to feel anything. Nothing. The night mom died, the father I knew died with her. And I’ve made peace with it.
A waiter appears beside our table, polite smile in place as she takes our order. She takes my order first, and then Andrei’s. Once she leaves, the quiet settles between us again, filled only with the soft clink of glasses and low murmurs from other diners.
