Chapter 49
Chapter Forty-Nine
Leon
Coming home from our trip was much more seamless than I expected it to be.
The kids remained in high spirits, even though our five-day vacation had come to an end.
They were excited to come home, honestly, which Katya says bodes well for our parenting style.
Bastian and Leo like being at home with us, even when compared to a little getaway that they enjoyed a ton.
We could have stayed longer, but we both agreed that starting with a brief trip would be best for all of us.
While I enjoy spending as much time as possible with my little family, neither of us want them to be shocked and disappointed when I start working more again.
I still plan to do more work at home when possible, but taking weeks off at a time isn’t something I’d want them to get used to, only to be let down when it eventually ends.
Besides, the cabin will certainly be seeing us in the future—mostly because of all the family memories we created together.
But also since my wife has unlocked a fondness within me for fucking in front of open flame.
Every time I think back on that night, I’m amazed at how lucky I am for finding such a perfect woman for me.
She somehow balances being a sweet and gentle mother while also being a fierce and passionate lover.
“Lie down, bohatstvo,” Katya insists, gently trying to nudge me onto the couch. “Let me take care of you.”
Sweet, I muse silently. Did I mention she was sweet?
“Baby, I’m fine,” I tell her again, for the fourth or fifth time now.
She refuses to be swayed.
“You’re not fine,” she replies sternly, putting a hand on her hip. “Your back has been sore for two days since you bent over too fast picking up snowballs to throw back at our sons. Now lie down and let me rub you.”
“You’re acting like I’m a fragile old man. I can throw men twice my size over my shoulder, I’ll have you know.”
“Yes, yes.” Her eyes roll. “You’re a big strong man who can handle pain, we get it. But I’m your stubborn wife and if you don’t lie down on that couch and let me rub out your strained muscles, I’ll be quite cross with you.”
“Baby, you’re the pregnant one,” I try to reason, feeling guilty. “I should be the one telling you to lie down so I can rub your feet and eat your pussy or something.”
She tries so hard not to smile at my reply, but humor cracks on her lips against her will. “I’m not at the stage of pregnancy where my feet need rubbing yet. And maybe if you’re a good boy and take your massage I’ll let you eat my pussy afterwards.”
Smirking, I look down at her with a tilt of my head. “Oh, you’ll let me, will you?”
“Didn’t you just say I’m the pregnant one.” She arches her brow challengingly. “Doesn’t that mean I get whatever I want? Lie. Down. You stubborn man.”
Well, she makes a valid argument.
“All right, baby,” I relent, tugging my shirt over my head. “But stop if you get tired, all right? I can work my own muscles out eventually, sometimes they just get tight.” Mostly because I skip stretching far too much for a thirty-two-year-old man. A poor habit I’ve yet to kick.
“I’m not going to get tired,” she claims, rolling up her long cotton sleeves while I lay out on my stomach. “I’m a licensed masseuse and I’ve worked on far more challenging things than my stubborn husband’s back.”
Head wiping to the side, I look up at her in disbelief. “You’re a what?”
She grins, pleased with herself. “I love that I can still surprise you. It’s one of the best things about falling in love early into a relationship. We get to keep learning new things about each other every day.”
“You’re a masseuse? How…what?”
“How did a mafia princess end up becoming a massage therapist?” she giggles, pulling a small tube of oil out of her bag, the bag she brought downstairs when she started to insist I lie down for her.
“It’s not that interesting or wild, I assure you.
When I was eighteen, my mom started to really suffer from inflammatory arthritis.
Her arms and hands would get so sore and tight, and her doctors weren’t much help.
So, I enrolled in a course hoping to learn how to help her. ”
I blink up at her and she smiles sweetly. “Face down, baby. I’ll keep talking but I’m getting my hands on these pretty muscles of yours. I’ve been thinking about how massaging them would feel for a little while now and I won’t be denied the pleasure any longer.”
Completely floored by her, I do as she requests and put my face into the soft couch cushion, leaving myself room to breathe where the seams meet.
“As I was saying,” she begins with a pleased hum.
“I enrolled in a massage therapy course.” The sound of a plastic cap snapping open is directly followed by her hands rubbing together softly.
Katya sits on the coffee table, putting herself at just the right height to reach all of my back.
“Of course, Linus wasn’t super happy about it at first. He demanded Ares go to all of my classes with me to keep me safe.
He attended all six months of class with me, and six hundred hours of training. ”
My wife keeps talking, but it becomes harder to focus as her hands glide up and down my back. She manipulates my skin and the surface of my muscles like they’re butter, pushing and pulling as she begins with a light pressure.
“He whined about it at first, but when he started being used as a practice dummy he liked it. And as much as it was taking time away from his days, he knew I was doing it to try to help my mom. He’s always been kind to her, and she’s always had a soft spot for him.
Well anyways, after I got certified, I started a regime with my mom that really helped her.
After a few weeks, her flare-ups were so much calmer, and eventually, she had a bit of a remission.
Her kind of arthritis can come and go as things in your life change, and she’s had a few really good years recently. ”
“And she makes do without you?” I ask knowing damn well that I can’t really change things if she’s not. She can’t exactly commute to Florida for regular appointments to take care of her mom. Especially not while she’s pregnant and vulnerable.
“She is,” Katya answers, sounding pleased as she moves her hands up to my shoulders, rubbing deeper.
I won’t deny that it feels fucking incredible.
“She goes to the spa I like whenever she needs a ‘tune up’ as she likes to call them. Ugh, that’s probably the one thing I miss about back home other than my family, my spa days. ”
A deep groan catches in my throat as she begins to carefully work out some kind of tension in my mid to lower back. It feels good but rough, a surprising amount of strength coming from my wife’s small hands.
“If you want me to find someone to give you massages and facials and shit I can,” I offer with another groan. “Jade and Ana have someone they use. I’m sure if Cassio and Dmitri have found someone safe enough to trust I can too.”
It might be difficult, but I could manage it.
Maybe I should just learn how to do it myself so no one else can touch her.
Is there a way to search for trusty, worthy old lady spa specialists? I’ll have to ask Remo.
“I’ll think about it,” Katya muses, sounding tickled by my offer.
“I had two really nice ladies I liked a lot back home, and I won’t pretend I don’t love being pampered at the spa, but I have other priorities.
Taking a couple hours a week or even a month away from the kids just to go be rubbed and get facial treatments sounds lovely until I think about the hours I’ll be missing with our boys. ”
“Parent guilt?” I turn my head, keeping my cheek flat against the couch so I can look at her without impeding her work. “I told you, baby, you’re not selfish for doing things for yourself.”
“I know,” she replies, a smile touching her lips. “It’s not guilt so much as it is a desire to spend as much time as I possibly can with them. I really do adore every single moment, even the exhausting ones.”
“Like when Leo demands to be chased around the backyard for an hour?” I guess, chuckling. “Or when Bastian tries to climb trees and gives you a mini heart attack in the process?”
“Yes to both,” my wife replies with a huff.
Despite her tone, she can’t hide her grin.
“I’m sure I’ll want massages as I start to get bigger and more sore.
They can help with skin elasticity and stretching, you know?
But right now, I prefer only leaving them when it means we’re going on one of the many fantastic dates you’ve planned for us. ”
Taking her out is one of my favorite things to do when I leave the house too.
We never fail to have a good time, and the intimacy is additive.
Not just the physical stuff, but the adult conversation, the close proximity, and the romance.
The hot sex that typically occurs when we get home after is just a bonus, honestly.
“Fuck,” I grunt suddenly, her hands dipping into the most tender bit of my back muscles. The exclamation is half-pained, half in relief. She isn’t too rough as she locates the spot, kneading it with her skilled fingers and keeping a tight pressure. “Maybe I am an old man.”
Katya giggles. “My old man.”
“Minx,” I accuse, groaning again as her hands continue working their magic. “I’ll show you old…as soon as you’re done making my back feel better.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“Damn right, you are.”
She laughs freely again. “Do you think we’ll be this greedy for each other when we’re old and gray?”
I fucking hope so.
“Probably,” I decide, humming as I try to imagine it. “We’ll have to be careful not to break our hips.”
“God, could you imagine the embarrassment?” Katya clicks her tongue. “The kids would be adults, probably with kids of their own, and they’d get a phone call that Dad broke his hip getting busy with Mom.”
“We better take our vitamins and keep ourselves limber then,” I suggest, lifting a brow at her when she meets my gaze. “I plan on fucking you just like I do now until my dick stops working or my heart stops beating, whatever comes first.”
“How romantic,” she drawls sarcastically, huffing but still smiling despite herself.
“I aim to please.”
Especially where Katya is concerned. Making her happy has quickly become one of my favorite things, and that desire has only grown since we found out she’s pregnant.
There’s something so fulfilling about having a wife who not only cares for me, who not only loves me, but also one who wants to have children with me.
She treats Bastian and Leo like they’re her own.
She’s their mother in every single way that matters, and she’s thrilled to give them a sibling on top of it all.
If she never wanted another child, I would be content of course.
My boys are more than enough for us, and I couldn’t be more grateful to be their father.
Still, there’s something special about sharing a love with someone who wants to create life with you.
She loves me so much that she wants to bring a little version of us into the world, and she’s willing to alter her body to grow it.
Maybe it’s a deep-rooted human desire to reproduce that makes me feel that way, or maybe it’s just an overall feeling of being blessed by such an amazing woman. Either way, Katya Moretti, formerly Luká?ová, is most positively the greatest gift me and my children could ever receive.
“I think you’re done,” my wife informs me, dragging her soft hands up my back one final time. “I’ll do this tomorrow night too just to check on that tense area for you, but you should feel a lot better in the morning.”
“Was I good?” I ask, sitting up and already feeling less pain.
“Good?” she echoes, almost looking confused.
Nodding, I reach for her and pull her still slippery hand into mine. “You told me if I was good I could take you upstairs and eat your pretty little pussy.”
“I did?” She blinks her wide, lovely blue eyes, pretending to look innocently scandalized. “That sounds so unlike me.”
“Does it?” I challenge, arching a brow. “I suppose you wouldn’t be interested in going to our bedroom and sitting on my face until you scream, then?”
Her face flushes and her throat bobs with a swallow.
“You’ve persuaded me.”
Grinning, I scoop her up and kiss her lips. “Lucky me.”
Luckiest motherfucker around, for certain.