Chapter Nineteen
Niamh
Dinner was cooking in the ove n— a lasagna, which happened to be my favorit e— and I’d not had it in so long. I’d been tempted to be stubborn and not make any food. Peter had been bringing food home with him, and that was what we’d eaten, apart from the pizza with Ivan.
Ivan had also called to tell me he wouldn’t be making movie night tonight, so I’d been alone. I had watched a movie, but then decided I was going to make dinner. My biggest problem was I didn’t want Peter to get the wrong impression. This wasn’t me making a choice. This was me saying thank you for last night, for him … just holding me. I knew it didn’t mean much to Peter, but it did to me.
With the lasagna finishing up, I decided to set the table for two. I wasn’t going to be an asshole over this. Opening the fridge, I took out the bottle of red wine that was supposed to go with beef, at least I hoped so. Didn’t people always drink red wine with red meat? I didn’t know. Wine and alcohol weren’t drinks I ever consumed. I knew Peter enjoyed wine, whiskey, and beer.
With the wine open and breathing, I opted for some water, which I poured and added a few ice cubes.
This was not a date, even though I was tempted to light some candles. I didn’t know if Peter was going to arrive on time. There were so many questions I didn’t have answers to.
I went back to the sofa, turned on the television, and flicked through the channels trying to find something to watch. All the time aware of the ticking clock as my lasagna got closer to being cooked.
I didn’t know if I should call Peter to ask if he was coming home, or just leave it. I was not in the habit of following up on a guy.
Ten minutes till my lasagna was done. I got to my feet and started to make my way toward the kitchen, only to stop when the main door of the penthouse opened.
Peter stepped inside, and I tried to ignore that little fluttering in my chest at the sight of him. I shouldn’t feel so happy to see him, and yet that was exactly what I wa s— happy.
“Peter,” I said.
He looked up at me, and that was when I saw the blood on his shirt. I didn’t recoil. I didn’t run away. Instead, I closed the distance and went straight to him. “What happened?”
“I got hit, that’s all,” he said.
“You need to go to the hospital.”
“No.”
“Damn it, Peter, don’t be stubborn.”
“Trust me, Niamh, this is not the first cut or wound I’ve gotten. When I say I don’t need to pay the hospital a visit, trust me, I don’t need to pay the hospital a visit.”
Wow, he was grumpy.
“Fine, you don’t need to pay the hospital a visit, but I’m going to check your wounds.” I helped him to the bathroom.
I wasn’t sure if I helped exactly, but I was standing beside him as we made our way across the hallway toward our bedroom. I had not moved any of my clothes or stuff out of the bedroom.
I knew Ivan wasn’t coming back tonight, but I also hadn’t thought about nighttime. Or maybe I had, and I didn’t want to leave Peter’s bed. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was thinking or feeling, or if I even knew for sure what I was going to do. For now, I just wanted to take care of Peter.
I got him to sit on the toilet seat, which I had put down. “Sit.”
He didn’t argue and sat right down.
I saw a bruise already forming beneath his left eye, and I glanced over his body. His knuckles were cut, and he must have punched several hard things for them to look like that.
He opened his shirt and winced as he moved to take it out from his pants. I moved quickly, not wanting to see him in discomfort.
“Here,” I said. “Let me help.”
I removed his shirt, and then I saw several cuts. All the blood on his shirt wasn’t from him. I knew that much.
I went to the cupboard in the corner and grabbed a first aid kit. Spinning around, I couldn’t help but stop and look at my husband. He had a heavily inked chest, which I had always found fascinating, but now I saw it even more so. There were two slashes on one side of his body, beneath his breast. I sank down to my knees, and then quickly assessed the damage.
“They’re not deep,” he said.
“Do I need to ask if the other guy is in worse condition?” I asked, giving a chuckle.
“The other guy is dead.”
“I was … uh, just joking.”
“I’m not.”
I nodded. “I don’t know if you should be telling me these kinds of things, you know, the less I know and whatnot.”
“I’m not going to keep secrets from my wife,” Peter said, and the way in which he said it sent a thrill down my spine.
Maybe I was going crazy. Peter and I, our … we’re … so complicated. I wanted to hate him and yet, I couldn’t.
Opening the first-aid kit, I found the nonalcoholic wipes and tore into them to begin cleaning his wound. It wasn’t too bad. Once I cleaned some of the blood out of the way, I was able to see it was just a flesh wound. I didn’t know if a nurse would prefer to offer stitches.
“Why are you doing this?” Peter asked.
I couldn’t help but glance up into his eyes. I loved his blue eyes, and despite the lies or falsehoods between us, his eyes hadn’t changed.
“Doing what?”
I reached for an antiseptic cream and applied to the area, as well as to the Band-Aid I’d found. It was a big Band-Aid, with what looked like a pad down the center. Carefully, I placed it over his cut.
“Taking care of me.”
“Because you are my husband, and regardless of everything, Peter, I don’t want to see you hurt.”
I put my hands on his knees and stared up at him.
“I’m not hurt.”
“Of course not. You have wounds that are a little concerning, and we’re going to need to keep them clean. Promise me you’ll go to the hospital or call a doctor to help … fix you.”
“I’ll promise, if you give me something in return.”
This made me frown. “What? You do know this is not how that is supposed to work. You’re supposed to want to get better because you’ve got a giant cut on your side. That is how it’s supposed to work.” I was kind of rambling, because, well, I didn’t know what Peter wanted, and I was a little afraid of what that could mean.
“I know, but I wouldn’t be where I am today if I didn’t see an opportunity and take it.”
“You see me as an opportunity?” I asked.
“No, I see this as an opportunity.”
“Then what do you want?” I knew I was playing with fire right now. I didn’t know what Peter could possibly want, and I was a little afraid to find out. But, I also wanted to know.
He stroked my cheek with the backs of his fingers and stared into my eyes. “I want to kiss you,” he said.
I didn’t think it would be a kiss that he’d want at the moment..
“A kiss?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I didn’t know what was so important about a kiss, but I nodded. “Fine, I’m in agreement.” I wasn’t going to say what we were agreeing about. I’d kind of lost track of the conversation. Peter had this affect on me, and it wasn’t good.
I got to my feet and at the same time, so did Peter. I reached out, but he was not swaying from side to side or doing anything alarming. He looked sturdy on his feet. Steady, even. I couldn’t help but glance toward his lips. It had been a long time since we kissed. I couldn’t help but think back to the picni c— feeling his lips on mine, and then only moments later, my life became a nightmare.
I pushed those memories to the back of my mind because they didn’t have a place in this moment, not with Peter.
Me and Peter.
Alone.
He cupped my cheek and tilted my head back, staring into my eyes. Neither of us spoke, and then Peter closed the distance between us, only he didn’t go straight in for a kiss. No, at first, he pressed his face against my neck, and then I felt him breathe me in as if he couldn’t resist. With one deep inhale, he couldn’t seem to help himself.
Then, he kissed my neck, at that pulse point right where it always felt so good, and I struggled not to say or do anything. Why did he have to begin by touching me there? Not that I was complaining. One touch and I didn’t want him to stop.
My hands were by my sides, and I was trying to keep myself contained, but it was hard, especially as I wanted him to touch me. It felt like a sudden, overwhelming need, and then when I least expected it, Peter took possession of my lips and began to kiss me. Gentle at first, and now I couldn’t help but touch him. I went for his waist, and then slowly slid my hands up, going around to his back, and kissing him. I did try to keep distance between us, so I didn’t hurt him. It was the last thing I wanted to do.
Peter must have known what I was trying to do, because he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in close. The kiss deepened. Peter traced my lips, and then slid inside.
I couldn’t contain my moan and the truth was, I didn’t want to. All I wanted to do was kiss this man. He was driving me crazy.
I wasn’t sure how we ended up in the bedroom, but I wasn’t going to complain. I didn’t fight it. I didn’t want to fight it.
Sliding my hands down his body, I grabbed his belt and loosened it. I went from a woman who was hesitant to suddenly feeling like I needed him inside me. I wanted Peter. Those feelings I had were not just cut out of me. They were not beaten out of me. I still loved Peter.
There was still a lot of pain and betrayal between us, but also understanding. He knew who I was, and yet he didn’t back away. I knew he was just following Ivan’s orders, but even still, this felt good. I had to forget about the past. Ivan had given me a choice. I wasn’t ready to make that choice, not right now. All I wanted to do was put the past behind us, and to feel Peter.
With his pants on the floor, I then suddenly remembered the lasagna in the oven, and I quickly broke the kiss.
“Our lasagna. I need to go and turn off the stove.”
Peter sighed. “You know what, I’m not going to let you out of my fucking sight.”
I let out a scream as he suddenly hauled me over his shoulder. “Peter, what are you doing?” I asked. “You’re injured. You shouldn’t be carrying me around. This is insane. Put me down.” I couldn’t help but laugh as he suddenly carried me out of the bedroom, and into the kitchen. He had to impress me by turning off the oven without having to ask me. Not that I should be surprised, Peter could cook.
I was still hanging off his shoulder. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“And you’ve lost too much weight.”
“Don’t! Take me back to the bedroom.” I didn’t want to talk about my lack of an appetite. I knew I’d lost weight. My pants now required a belt to keep them up. Yep, I had nearly flashed one group of three of my guards, but thankfully I’d felt them falling, and caught them.
I’d started to wear belts with my pants and skirts. The dresses were a little big, but I just buttoned them up to the neck, and again, no problem with flashing anyone anything I didn’t want them to see.
I didn’t expect Peter to listen, but we’re somehow back in the bedroom, and he’d gotten my jeans off, as well as my shirt. He was standing in a pair of black boxer briefs, I in my black lace lingerie. It was one of my favorite sets, even if it was a little bigger than usual.
“I’m going to fuck you, Niamh, and then I’m going to feed you.”
I felt a quake in my pussy, and I knew, deep down, there were a lot of women who would tell Peter to go fuck himself, that they would hate him for the rest of their lives, but I was not like most people.
Back in Pickle Quest, I fell in love with him. This was no excuse. He was going to leave with me. Again, no excuse. And we were going to have a baby. Now, I was married to him, and all the lies had been shown. Peter hadn’t gotten angry with me. He wasn’t even judging me.
Maybe hanging out with Ivan, knowing he had lost the love of his life, had put everything into perspective for me. One thing I couldn’t den y— I loved Peter. He was alive, and we were married.
Even though betrayal and lies had brought us together, we were still together. I didn’t want to lose him. It was strange the way I was feeling tonight, but I didn’t want to let Peter go.
Within seconds, Peter had my lingerie off. The bra was on the floor, but the panties hadn’t survived and were in pieces on the floor.
The moment his hands were on me, I failed to care about anything else, and just let myself feel. I put all the bad feelings to the back of my mind, and instead focused on what mattere d— just the two of us.
However, as Peter wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close, I felt the fabric of his boxers, and I needed them off. I pushed his hands off me, but immediately sunk down to my knees in front of him. I gripped the edge of his briefs, and then without hesitating, I pushed them down to the floor, releasing his rock-hard cock.
At first, I just stared up into his eyes, aware of his dick close to my face. It had been so long since I had tasted him. I’d asked for him back in Pickle Quest to show me how to please him in the same way he did me when he licked my pussy. He’d not disappointed.
Slowly, he glanced down his body, aware of his wounds, but then I went straight to his cock. The tip was already glistening with his pre-cum, and the foreskin had retracted as his erection had grown. I wrapped my fingers around the length of his dick, and then leaned forward, kissing just the tip.
“Oh, fuck!” He released a growl, almost a grunt, but I didn’t stop.
Taking his cock into my mouth, I made sure I didn’t use my teeth, and I sunk onto his length until he hit the back of my throat. Pulling back, I created a pace that had me sinking on his length, taking as much of him as I could into my mouth, and then pulling away.
My name spilled from his lips, and he reached out, taking hold of my hair, and then showed me exactly what he wanted me to do to his dick.
I sunk onto his length, tasting the pre-cum as it coated my tongue. I didn’t want to stop, but Peter had other ideas as he pulled away, but he didn’t leave me for long. He took me off my feet, and then pressed me forward until my legs hit the back of the bed, and then I sunk down.
“My turn,” he said.
I cried out as within seconds, his tongue was at my clit. He slid back and forth, circling the hardened bud. I didn’t think I was so close to an orgasm, but Peter was a master with his tongue, and with just a few strokes, I was already close to coming. I didn’t want him to stop. I felt needy. Desperate. I’d not felt this way before.
And as he took me over the edge, I didn’t think I was ever going to feel anything so wonderful again.
Peter wasn’t done.
Even before the aftershocks of my release had subsided, he moved us up toward the head of the bed. He reached down between us and slid his thick cock between my slit, bumping against my oversensitive clit. I cried out. The pleasure was next level.
He did this a couple of times, and then he moved down, going between my thighs, and sinking inch by inch, deep inside my cunt.
Peter didn’t stop until he was seated deep inside me, and now I looked at him, a little taken aback, but totally filled, as I realized that love hadn’t gone away. I didn’t hate Peter Orlov. I was still as in love with him as the day he came to town. Even though he was a different man, I still loved him, and I didn’t want anything to happen to him.
Not ever.