Epilogue
EVELYN
One year later
New Year’s Eve
“Be good for aunt Dahlia,” I murmur, as I press a kiss to my son’s forehead and hand him over to Dahlia, who is sitting on the couch next to me. Sergei lets out a small cry, reaching for me, and I wrap my hand around his tiny one, giving him one more kiss before relinquishing him. “I could stay in,” I murmur, and Dahlia narrows her eyes at me.
“Go enjoy your evening,” she says firmly, rocking Sergei in her arms. “And let me enjoy the evening with my honorary nephew. You need to get out and celebrate.”
“She’s right.” Dimitri reaches for my hand, helping me up off of the couch. “We should enjoy the night. One evening away won’t hurt. It might even be good for us.”
“I know.” I cast one more lingering glance at our son before I pick up my clutch, following Dimitri to the front door.
A lot has changed in the past year. We moved into the Yashkov mansion, after a thorough renovation that removed all traces of Dimitri’s father’s influence from the house, redecorating it in a style that I liked. He let me do whatever I wanted, telling me once again to spare no expense. It made it feel like a home, especially since I’d never been there before, and I was happy to bring our son home there.
Dimitri was right, too, that a year of careful physical therapy and slowly building up the strength in my shoulder again has made it so that I can once again draw, design, and sew without issue. It’s been slow, starting my business back up, since I want to spend time with Sergei. But I have two clients, and I’ll expand more, as he gets older.
The car is waiting for us outside, and Dimitri opens the door for me, waiting as I gather up the shimmery gold skirt of my gown and slide into the car. His hand rests on my thigh as he slides in next to me, and I shiver, his touch sending a jolt of desire through me just like it always does.
I’ll never get tired of his touch. I’ll never get tired of hearing him tell me he loves me, or the way he looks at me sometimes, as if he can’t believe I’m real. As if he can’t believe that after all this time, he discovered what it feels like to love.
It’s the same thing that he murmurs to me often in the darkness, his hands and lips moving over me, making all the same promises to me over again. Promises that I never get tired of hearing.
“Let’s not stay too late,” I murmur, as the car pulls up in front of the mansion where the party is being held. “I want to get you to myself tonight, before we’re both tired.”
“I can’t argue with that, l’vitsa .” Dimitri leans in, capturing my mouth in a hard, hot kiss, before he slides out of the car and holds out his hand to help me out, too.
The party is in full swing as we walk in, the air warm and perfumed with the scent of guests’ perfume and cologne, chatter and music filling the air, the clink of glasses a background melody. “Let’s get some champagne,” Dimitri murmurs, his arm linking through mine as we start to move through the crowd towards the bar. And then I see a flash of green, of blonde hair, and a woman with fox-like features and a sneer on her lips steps in front of us, her eyes sweeping haughtily over me.
“Nicci.” My voice is flat. I won’t give her the satisfaction of a response. She escaped retribution for what she did, but her fortunes have been very much diminished. Dimitri cut off all deals with her father, and the ensuing fallout has meant that the Armand family has seen their wealth decline rapidly in the last year. I don’t doubt that it will continue. I can see the strain of it in her face, around her eyes, and it gives me a glimmer of satisfaction.
This, in my opinion, is the best revenge. Dimitri and I are flourishing, while Nicci’s family slides into ruin and obscurity, one lost deal at a time.
“I can’t believe this.” Her voice rises, carrying, and I can feel the party slowing around us, eyes turning to look. “You’re still carrying on this farce? After a year? Even with your father gone, Dimitri? You’re still pretending to be married to this…”
“Be careful how you speak about my wife.” Dimitri steps closer to me, his hand resting on the small of my back possessively. “There can be much worse in store for you, Nicci, if you’re not careful.”
“You can stop pretending.” She narrows her eyes. “It’s not like you can be forced to marry me , now. You can admit it’s fake. That it always was.”
“Evelyn Yashkova is my wife.” Dimitri’s voice rises, catching the attention of everyone listening. “I’ve loved her since the moment I met her. She’s the only woman I ever have loved, the only woman who could ever keep my attention. The only woman I want. Nothing has ever been more real than what I feel for her.” His eyes narrow. “Is that all? Or was there something else you wanted to say?”
I watch the blood drain out of Nicci’s face, all the way to her lips. I see the moment that she realizes the truth, the hot flood of embarrassment in her cheeks as attention turns towards her, as the whispers start. She backs up, pivoting on her heel, walking quickly towards a table at the far end of the room as the guests turn to watch her go.
If her embarrassment hadn’t been complete before, it is now. And I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted Dimitri as intensely as I do in that moment, as he stood up for me in front of an entire room of New York’s elite.
He has a glass of champagne in his hand, grabbed from a passing tray, and he hands me one as well. I toss it back, setting the empty glass on another tray as it goes by, and step closer to him, the music fading into the background as his gaze lands on mine.
“I’m going to go to the powder room,” I whisper softly. “In case you needed to look for me.”
And then, without another word, I turn and walk in that direction, knowing Dimitri will follow.
I’m not wrong. Five minutes after I walk inside, when the two other ladies using the mirror step out, Dimitri slips in, flipping the lock before turning towards me, his hungry gaze sweeping over my figure in the gold dress I’m wearing.
“Mrs. Yashkova,” he murmurs. “You needed something?”
A smile flicks across my lips, and I back up to the counter, sliding my dress up my thighs as I lean against it. In one stride, Dimitri crosses the room to me, his hands on my hips as he lifts me those last inches onto the ledge, his strong hands pushing my thighs apart. His gaze drops between them, sharpening as he sees exactly what I’m not wearing underneath it. I went without underwear, hoping to surprise him on the car ride home, but this is even better.
And I can’t wait until we leave the party. “I need my husband now,” I whisper, and his gaze darkens, his eyes flicking up to meet mine as he steps closer to me.
“Understood,” he murmurs, and then he sinks down, his fingers digging into my thighs as his mouth fastens between them, his tongue dragging up to my clit in one long, slow lick that leaves me gasping.
There’s nothing slow or leisurely about it. He wants me as desperately as I need him, the semi-public setting only fueling that, and his tongue lashes over me, fluttering over my clit as he sucks it between his lips and thrusts two fingers into my dripping entrance. I bite my lip, trying to stifle my sounds of pleasure as I brace one red-bottomed shoe against his shoulder, gripping his hair with my hand, my muffled moans driving him on as he licks and sucks my sensitive flesh, pushing me rapidly towards a climax.
He pulls back just long enough to look up at me. “I want to hear you moan, l’vitsa ,” he murmurs, and then his mouth is on me again, his tongue matching the rhythm of his fingers as he pushes me over the edge.
That moan that he wanted to hear slips from my mouth, filling the air as my orgasm pulses through me, fast and messy, drenching his lips with my arousal as I ride his tongue. He sucks hard at my clit, never letting up for even a second as I grind against his face, gasping with pleasure until he finally pulls back and stands up, his hands on my hips dragging me down from the counter and flipping me around.
I’m still fluttering inside when he flips my skirt up and plunges inside of me, bare, his hot flesh filling me to the hilt as I clench around him. He groans, one hand on my hip, drawing out until just his tip is inside of me and then sinking into me again. I look at him in the mirror as he fucks me, his other strong, inked hand gripping my shoulder as he fucks me hard, his face taut with pleasure as his eyes never leave mine for even a second. He holds my gaze, and desire pulses through me, every stroke of his cock making me gasp. Nothing has ever felt as good as this, and I want it to go on forever, even as I know that we should make it quick.
His other hand slides between my thighs, finding my clit again. “Come for me again, l’vitsa ,” he growls. “Evelyn. My wife . Come all over my cock, and then I’ll fill you up with my cum, so it can drip down your thighs and everyone here will know you’re mine.”
He leans in, his lips brushing against my ear. “ Mine .”
One more thrust, one more stroke of his fingers over my clit, and I’m falling over the edge again, clenching around him as he groans and sinks into me, the hot rush of his cum filling me as he buries his face in my neck. He breathes me in, his hips rocking against me, and I feel his cock twitch inside of me as he drags his lips up the column of my throat.
“I love you,” he whispers, still joined with me, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “My wife. My forever.”
“I love you, too.” I twist around, his cock slipping out of me as I turn to face him, lifting my face so that my lips brush against his. “Forever, Dimitri.”
He cups my face gently, leaning in to kiss me, his thumb brushing against my cheek. Outside, faintly, I can hear the noise of the party, but it all fades away compared to this. Just us, together in this moment. We’ve come so far since that first night, when he caught me as I almost fell.
“I can’t wait to start every new year with you,” I whisper, as he kisses me again. “For as many as we can have together.”
“For the rest of our lives, l’vitsa ,” Dimitri promises me. “You, and only you.”
I know he means it. What started out as nothing more than an arrangement has never been more real.
And I know it always will be.
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Craving Dahlia