Chapter 17 – Celine
I drew the two sides of my oversized shirt over my body as I walked down the hall in silence. My feet were soundless against the cool floor as I made my way back to my room.
Across the corridor, Konstantin stood sentinel, watching me with a blank expression on his mean face. Maybe he’d heard us. Maybe he hadn’t. I honestly couldn’t care less at this point.
I never went to Artur’s office with the hopes of getting laid. I just wanted to talk with him about my situation and my purpose here. However, when I saw him seated on that couch, looking all serious and buff, something awakened inside me.
As I ignored Konstantin’s intense gaze while turning the corner back to my room, the crazy things I did tonight came flashing in my head. I should be ashamed of myself for losing control the way that I did. Yet I couldn’t help feeling so satisfied.
For the first time, I let loose. I allowed myself to express my innermost desires without restraints. There was just something about the way he touched me tonight that awakened the sleeping lioness. I didn’t think that I had it in me to be wild and crazy—free and dangerous.
I saw the look of surprise in his eyes when I began displaying my madness. He was shocked. But at the same time, he loved it. The things I said echoed in the back of my mind as I grabbed the door handle and pushed it open.
Once inside, I leaned back against the door, a hand on my chest, with a small grin playing across my face. I didn’t realize how much I missed having him inside me until he slid in.
The sex was different tonight.
Rough.
Wild.
Crazy.
And therapeutic.
It was the expression I never knew I needed. All that anger, rage, and loneliness I felt vanished into thin air. Gone. Just like that. Puff. Clearly, the cure to my boredom and sadness was in his pants this whole time.
This happened to be my favorite oversized shirt, and he ruined it because he was horny. My smile broadened when I remembered the hunger in his eyes. It was hot, though, seeing him lose control like a beast.
Unlike the last time, he wasn’t gentle tonight. No. He fucked me as though he was punishing me. He hit me so hard that I lost my sense of reasoning.
The cowgirl ride was good.
But that backstroke…that was incredible!
Fuckin’ spectacular!
I absolutely loved it!
Fuck!
It was my first time getting hit from the back, and the experience was mind-blowing. I guess that’s my new favorite style. I should be mad at myself for letting this happen again. But I couldn’t find it in me to be angry or sad. He made sure of that.
My peaks were tingling, as was my burning cunt, my heart swelling with a strange sense of satisfaction. I took off my ruined shirt and walked butt-naked into the bathroom.
As the water washed down my body, tracing my curves and contours, I felt the remnants of stress and anxiety dissolving. Once done, I stepped out, dried my skin and hair, then snuggled under the sheets.
I hugged a pillow to my chest, closed my eyes, and drifted off to sleep. Before now, I used to struggle to fall asleep. Yet tonight, having run such a marathon, my mind, spirit, and body were all relaxed.
The sleep was peaceful. So peaceful.
***
Over the next couple of days, things returned to normal, and we began fucking more frequently. The more we had sex, the more addicted to him I became. And vice versa. At the end of every session, he would empty himself into me.
I knew it was risky taking all of his load. But I’d become so addicted that my brain was no longer functioning as it was supposed to. I didn’t only love his cock in or outside my pussy. I also developed an insatiable craving to always feel his warmth deep inside me.
It made me feel a certain way, although I was yet to find the right word to describe it. I was certain that it would eventually land me in so much trouble. But during sex, my brain always abandoned me. Always.
As time went by, days turned into weeks, and that’s when I began noticing the changes in my body. They were small at first. Nothing noticeable. Nothing out of the ordinary.
My skin looked lighter and smoother, always glowing under soft lights. My amber eyes seemed to hold a glint of something I couldn't quite name yet. Lately, the maids had been complimenting my beauty, saying I looked prettier each day.
Initially, I didn’t think much of it until I realized that Hilda always stared at my belly every chance she got. She looked at me as though she was examining my body, and I thought it was rather creepy.
After the glowing skin and enhanced beauty came morning sickness, nausea, and sudden cravings. I noticed my breasts were fuller, and my back hurt all the damn time. My joints ached, my fingers tingled, and my head was plagued with a fuckin’ migraine.
The painkillers I’d taken so far only helped to ease the pain. They didn’t do much in curing whatever was wrong with me.
One afternoon, I lay on the bench under an umbrella by the pool, sunbathing. While I was relaxing and enjoying the warmth of the sun, I noticed Hilda watching me from across the garden.
Why was she always staring at me?
She did the same thing yesterday after breakfast when I rose from the dining table. This newfound hobby of hers had become a recurring event, and I was starting to get offended by it.
Determined to get some answers, I sprang to my feet and slipped into my robe. My pair of flip flops padded across the pavement as I made my way to the garden where she was pruning the flowers.
“Hilda, hi,” I greeted her politely.
She was old enough to be my mother, maybe even grandmother. Hilda was much older than Artur himself, and I’d seen the way he spoke to her with respect. She was more than just a housekeeper to him. She was family.
The woman was pretty for her age: portly with gray hair and large green-gray eyes.
“Hello, Celine,” she replied in accented English. “How are you today?”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
Silence.
She kept pruning the flowers with a straight face, like she had no idea why I’d come to meet. “Is there a problem?”
I cleared my throat. “I don’t know, you tell me.”
“What do you mean?”
I hesitated, eyes squinting ever so slightly. “Well…don’t take this the wrong way, but….” I paused for a second, keeping my gaze on her. “Is there something you wanna tell me?”
She stopped working and faced me squarely.
“I mean, you’ve been watching me a bit more closely these days.” I shifted my weight on one leg. “It’s uh…it’s kinda creepy.”
“I apologize for that,” she said.
“Okay…” I drawled lazily, anticipating more from her.
“I’m just trying to figure out whether you know what is going on with you.”
Confused, my head cocked to the side. “I don’t understand.”
“Exactly,” she said. “That is why you’re so calm.”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Hilda, you’re speaking in parables. Can you make me understand what you’re saying?”
“When was the last time you saw your friend?”
“Huh?”
“The red one.”
Oh, she’s talking about my period.
I finally understood what she was saying. But as I thought about it, my smile slowly began to vanish. I realized by my calculations that I was almost two weeks late.
What the hell?
My eyes widened in shock, and panic crept in, reminding me of her previous statement.
Exactly. That’s why you’re so calm.
Shit.
This can’t be happening. Fuck!
I glanced around cautiously and lowered my voice. “Hilda, you don’t really think that I am….” My voice trailed off, too scared to say the word.
She looked me straight in the eyes and nodded. “You are.”
In denial, I shook my head, refusing to accept it. “No. You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do,” she answered. “When you’ve lived long enough like I have, you tend to pick up a few skills along the way.” She waited for her words to sink in. “For instance, knowing when a woman is carrying a child, even if she doesn’t know it herself.”
My hand instinctively flew to my belly as I stood before her, frozen in place. My heart was pounding, and my emotions were going haywire. I wished this were some kind of dream and that the ground would open up and swallow me whole.
In my head, my thoughts were a tangled mess, my vision was blurry, and the world around me was swirling. The thought of carrying Artur’s baby terrified me in ways I couldn’t explain.
A part of me wanted to believe that Hilda was mistaken, but the signs were glaring. At this point, I didn’t need a doctor to break the news to me.
I was pregnant. And the baby belonged to Artur Tarasov.
Yep. I’m fucked.