Epilogue #2
Water swirled everywhere while his tongue circling my clit created a slick friction that carried me higher and higher.
“Show me,” he challenged, nipping at my clit. “Show me how beautiful you come for me.”
He slipped one finger inside and bit down on my clit before he sucked and let it pop out.
“Mine,” he growled, then began again by circling my clit with his tongue.
His. I was undoubtedly, completely his.
I moaned again which only intensified his ministrations.
His possessive grip on my ass cheeks would leave marks, but it felt so good, I just didn’t care.
I didn’t care about anything other than his lips on my clit, his finger in my pussy, and the bubbles of air sending ripples across my body and the pool’s surface.
The water amplified every sensation, cool against my skin, raising goose bumps despite the warmth pooling low in my belly.
“Let go for me, Shorty,” he commanded, his voice rough with exertion and need.
The familiar nickname, combined with his teeth grazing my sensitive flesh and a guttural sound that reverberated through me, pushed me over the edge. I arched against him and shattered around him, crying out his name as pleasure swept through me in overwhelming waves.
Ivan lapped at my clit until I was coming down from the high, then he pulled me back down into the water and into his embrace.
I clung to him, breathing hard, while the water lapped gently around our intertwined bodies.
After a moment, he carried me to the steps and sat with me still in his lap, the water cooling my overheated skin.
His cock pressed hard against me a complete contrast to the lazy patterns he drew on my back while my head rested against his chest, listening to his heartbeat while mine gradually slowed down to normal.
“I’m never leaving for three weeks again,” Ivan murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple.
I smiled against his skin. “What about all those very important meetings?”
“They can come here,” he declared. “Or wait.”
Laughing, I lifted my head to look at him. “The mighty Ivan Zotov, rearranging international security matters for sex.”
“For you,” he corrected, his expression suddenly serious. “Everything I do is for you now.”
The simple honesty in his voice made my throat tight with emotion. A year ago, I’d been a woman with a secret identity and walls around her heart, to keep the world at bay. Now I was just Isabella—his Isabella—and somehow that felt like the truest version of myself I’d ever been.
“I love you,” I said again because I could now, because the words still felt like freedom after so long caging them inside.
Ivan’s smile was soft, genuine in a way few people ever saw. “And I love you.” His hand came up to cup my cheek. “More than I thought possible.”
We stayed that way for a while, skin cooling in the mountain air, talking about nothing important and everything that mattered. Plans for dinner, updates on our families, the puppy’s latest antics. The ordinary details that made up our extraordinary life together.
“What about you?” I asked when he made no move to slip inside of me. To fuck me like he surely wanted.
Ivan shifted. “I have a surprise for you,” he said as he wrapped his arms around my hips and stood with me while looking down at me.
I quirked an eyebrow. “Good or bad?”
“Good.” He shifted my weight and reached for the towels he’d set nearby.
I tucked the towel securely around me.
“You being home early is surprise enough,” I said, leaning into his warmth. “I don’t need anything else.”
And I meant it. After everything we’d been through, these quiet moments of connection were all I truly wanted. The luxury around us was nice, but it was Ivan himself—his protection, his understanding, his unwavering presence—that made me deliriously happy.
“Nevertheless,” he insisted, that hint of command in his voice that still made my pulse quicken. “This surprise is just for you and me.” His eyes darkened slightly. “And I promise you’ll like it.”
“Is it another ring?” I teased, wiggling the fingers of my left hand where his first gift—an obscenely large diamond—caught the sunlight. “Because I’ve already said yes to marrying you.”
Ivan captured my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the ring. “No, but it is something you’ve mentioned wanting.” His smile held secrets. “Something just for us.”
Curiosity sparked through me. “When do I get to see this surprise?”
“Right now,” he said, standing and pulling me up with him.
“Is that why you didn’t have sex with me just now?” I asked.
His laugh was low and rich. “I’ve learned the value of anticipation.” He leaned down to nip at my earlobe. “Good things come to those who wait.”
I pressed against him, feeling him stir again despite our recent activities. “And do good girls get special rewards for patience, as well?”
His eyes darkened with renewed hunger. “Good girls get special rewards for both waiting and coming.”
“How lucky for me that I’m your very own good girl.”
He chuckled and kissed me again. “How lucky indeed.” Then he carried me back toward the house with clear intent… Whatever surprise he had for me, I would bet my left hand it would end in sex.
And I couldn’t wait.
Ivan Zotov was the perfect man for me, and at times, I could hardly believe how perfectly our broken pieces fit together.
We had both been forged in fire, shaped by pain and survival, yet somehow found wholeness in each other.
And nothing could surpass the miracle of this—Ivan Zotov and Isabella Salvini, Russian Bratva/Paraskia operative and an Italian Mafia hacker princess, finding home in the most unexpected place of all.
In each other.