Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
Callista
Two weeks later…
The bathroom is a haven of luxury, all polished marble and gleaming chrome.
The air is thick with steam, the scent of expensive soap and something deeper, more primal—the smell of us, of our bodies intertwined.
The massive bathtub is nestled in the center, surrounded by flickering candles that cast dancing shadows on the walls.
It's like a scene from a romance novel, but it's real, and I'm living it.
Dmitry's arms are wrapped around me, his chest pressed against my back, and his cock buried deep inside me. He moves slowly, lazily, as if we have all the time in the world. His hands cup my breasts, fingers teasing my nipples until they’re hard and aching.
Every touch sends jolts of pleasure straight to my core, where his cock fills me completely.
I lean back against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my skin. The room is hazy with steam, and it feels like we’re cocooned in our own little world, safe from everything outside. There’s a comfort in his embrace, a sensation of being home.
“Your pussy is like an angel’s,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “So tight and perfect.”
I close my eyes, savoring the feeling of him inside me, the warmth of his body against mine. “Maybe we should start using protection,” I say softly, even though the idea of it feels wrong, like it would shatter this perfect moment.
His grip on my breasts tightens slightly, his thumbs still circling my nipples. “It’s too late for that, babygirl,” he says, his voice low and husky. “I’ve been coming inside you for weeks now. My seed is already planted.”
His words send a shiver down my spine. I try to reassure myself that getting pregnant isn’t easy, that it won’t happen just because we’re having sex all the time.
But the possibility fills my heart with a strange, warm joy.
The thought of carrying his child, of our future intertwined, even if it’s still uncertain, makes me happier than I thought possible.
The smoke from the candles curls around us, and I feel a deep sense of luxury and comfort.
This isn’t just about sex; it’s about intimacy, about feeling safe and loved in his arms. I wonder if this is what it would feel like to come home to him every day, to spend my time with him, to share a life together.
“What’s on your mind?” he asks, his voice soft but commanding. He knows me well enough to sense when my thoughts wander.
I take a deep breath, letting the steam fill my lungs. “I was just thinking about the future. About what happens if I get pregnant.”
His hands still on my breasts, and he leans forward to press a kiss to my shoulder. “If you get pregnant, I’ll marry you,” he says, without missing a beat.
My heart skips. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” he confirms. “I’ve been obsessed with you, Callista. Stalking you, watching you, wanting you. But it’s more than that now. I love you. You fill a hole in my chest that I never knew was there. With you, I feel whole.”
Tears well up in my eyes, and I blink them away. “I feel protected with you too. And I might be falling in love with you.”
He smiles against my skin, his stubble rough and comforting. “That’s good to know. I guess that means we’re not fake dating anymore.”
I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat. “It’s real now.”
He kisses my shoulder again, his hands resuming their slow, deliberate movements on my breasts.
“My world isn’t like yours, babygirl. You’ll have to get used to it.
I can give you opportunities to make your dream of being an event planner come true, but you’ll have to turn a blind eye to a lot of stuff. ”
“What kind of stuff?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
He sighs, his breath warm on my skin. “We do the worst, evil things. Killing people, laundering money, dealing drugs. Just before dinner, I might order to have people killed. You need to be able to live with that.”
I swallow hard, trying to reconcile the man I know with the one he’s describing. “I like you as a person, Dmitry. Your job, even though it’s dangerous and bloody, doesn’t scare me as much as I thought. I can live with it, as long as I have you.”
He kisses the back of my neck, his lips lingering. “You need to think carefully about this, Callista. Once you’re in, there’s no going back.”
I nod, feeling the weight of his words. But in his arms, with his cock still buried deep inside me, I feel at ease. Physical intimacy comes easily with him, and I crave his touch as much as he craves mine. My fingers trace patterns on his thighs, feeling the muscle and strength beneath his skin.
“I know,” I say softly. “I want this, Dmitry. I want you.”
He thrusts gently, a slow, deep movement that makes me gasp. “I want you too, babygirl. More than you know.”
The water laps around us, the steam rising, and I feel content, safe, and loved. Whatever the future holds, I know I want to face it with him. In his arms, I’ve found a home, a place where I belong. And I never want to let it go.
Steam still curls in the air when we step out of the shower. Water trails down Dmitry’s chest, the robe hanging loose on his shoulders. I grab a towel and reach for the robe draped over the vanity, but before I can slip it on, his fingers circle my wrists.
“I want to dress you,” he says quietly, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through my chest. “Let me take care of you, babygirl.”
I should laugh, tell him I can handle it, but something in his tone stops me. It isn’t a command—it’s affection disguised as authority. My heart flutters.
“Okay,” I whisper.
He grabs a towel. He kneels to dry my legs first, slow and gentle, his eyes intent.
The towel moves in careful circles over my skin.
Then he reaches for the silk slip he picked out, helping me step into it, drawing it up over my thighs and shoulders with reverence.
Every touch feels deliberate, like I’m something fragile he wants to protect.
When his knuckles brush against my collarbone, my heart skips.
“There,” he murmurs, adjusting the strap on my shoulder. “Perfect.”
No one has ever treated me like this before. My father was distant, my mother vanished, and my stepmother only ever looked at me like I was a stain. But Dmitry… he’s patient, steady, warm.
When he’s done, he stands behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, pressing his lips against my hair. “We can study,” he says softly. “Or read. Whatever you want.”
I smile. “I’d like that.”
It’s my first time in Dmitry’s house. It’s a mansion, way bigger than my parents’ home. Yet, I don’t feel like an imposter here. He has made me feel comfortable, made me feel like I don’t have to be self-conscious.
He takes my hand, guiding me down the hall. The marble floors gleam under our feet, and the house is quiet except for the faint hum of air conditioning and the distant sound of birds outside.
We turn a corner, and almost bump into a woman carrying a basket of laundry. She stops, eyes widening when she sees us.
“Dmitry,” she says, her voice light and teasing. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing someone home.”
Lena Antonova. She’s his sister-in-law. He warned me that he lived with her and his older brother, Aleksei.
I recognize her from the stories Dmitry told me.
She’s American, too, and she went to Allister, but didn’t graduate.
She’s beautiful in a soft, natural way, her hair tied up in a loose braid and her clothes casual but elegant.
She has a kind face, with that calm energy that comes from someone who’s found her peace.
Dmitry clears his throat. “Lena, this is Callista. My girlfriend.”
Girlfriend. Hearing him say it still makes my chest flutter.
Lena’s eyes brighten, and a knowing smile spreads across her lips. “I see. So that’s how it is.” She glances at Dmitry. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell your brothers.”
He sighs in relief. “Thank you.”
Lena laughs softly. “Leo’s in Russia, and Aleksei’s not home. He’s out with Anechka. So it’s just me and Konstantin today. I was baking cookies. Want some?”
Cookies. Real, homemade cookies. I can’t remember the last time anyone offered me something made with care.
“Yes, please,” I say, trying not to sound too eager.
Lena crooks her finger. Dmitry and I follow her without a protest.
The kitchen smells like heaven. Sweet butter, vanilla, and chocolate swirl together in the air. The oven light glows warm against the tiles, and for a moment, the mansion doesn’t feel intimidating. It feels like a home. Dmitry pulls out a chair for me, his hand brushing mine as I sit.
“This place is beautiful,” I say softly.
Lena smiles as she takes out a tray of cookies. “Thank you. Aleksei wanted a fortress. I wanted a kitchen. We compromised.”
I laugh, and so does Dmitry. The sound feels natural.
Then a faint cry breaks the moment. Lena looks up. “That’s my cue.”
She disappears down the hall, and I turn to Dmitry. He leans close, stealing a quick kiss, his lips soft and tasting faintly of the vanilla air. “You look good here,” he murmurs. “You belong here. In my house. Lena sensed it, too. You blend into our family so easily.”
“You think so?” I tuck a wet strand of hair behind my ear. From the moment I stepped in, I fell in love with Dmitry’s house. And his family—or at least what I’ve seen of it—seems great. Lena accepted me warmly, welcomed me with open arms. Even my own family doesn’t treat me so well.
“You would look so good walking around with a swollen belly.” Dmitry bites my ear. My face heats up when he kisses my belly, but he straightens himself when we hear footsteps echoing.
Before I can compose myself, Lena returns, holding a chubby baby with dark hair and piercing eyes. “This is Konstantin,” she says, smiling. “He’s cranky, but sweet.”
“Can I hold him?” I ask without thinking. I love babies, and he’s so cute.
Lena nods, transferring the baby into my arms. He’s warm and solid, with little fingers that curl around mine immediately. My heart melts.
“Hi there,” I whisper, rocking him gently. He blinks up at me, curious and calm. For a moment, I can’t look away. Something inside me aches—a longing I didn’t know I had.
Dmitry makes a funny face, trying to coax a laugh from the baby. Konstantin stares for a second, then bursts into tears.
Dmitry sighs. “He doesn’t like his uncle.”
Lena chuckles. “He does. He’s just tired.”
I cradle Konstantin closer, swaying lightly until his cries fade. “He’s perfect,” I say quietly.
“You’re good with him,” Lena says warmly. “He already likes you.”
I smile, brushing a hand over his soft hair. “He makes it easy.”
Lena sits across from me, watching. “You’re a natural. Stealing his heart already.”
Her words make me blush. “I used to play with my step-siblings when they were babies.”
My step-mom hated it, hated how Selina and Andrew seemed to prefer me over her. But all that changed when they grew up and started to act like their mom.
“Well,” Lena says, leaning back with a cookie in hand, “You have the touch.”
I glance down at the baby in my arms. “He’s beautiful. You must be so happy.”
“I am. I had him young. I never thought I’d have another kid so fast. But when you find the right person and the time is right, everything else falls into place.” She winks at me.
Her words make an impression. I slide a brief glance at Dmitry, who is munching on a cookie. He looks so innocent, like a regular man. Like the kind of man I want to spend the rest of my life with.
He’s the right kind of man to have a baby with. And my heart tells me the time is right, too. Maybe Lena’s wisdom is what I needed.
I stare at her, surprised by her calm confidence. “How young are you, though?”
“Two years older than you,” she says with a grin. “Life just… happened fast. But I wouldn’t change a thing.”
My gaze drifts toward Dmitry, who is watching me quietly, his expression unreadable. But his eyes—those sharp, calculating eyes—are softer now. Almost tender.
And in that moment, holding a baby and sitting in a kitchen filled with warmth, I finally understand what I’ve been searching for my whole life.
Good, warm people. People who accept me and whose stories inspire me.
A family.
And the thought that it could all be mine fills me with hope and joy.