Chapter Forty-Seven
In which there is so much groveling. And sex.
Iris…
Dawn is leaking around the edges of my closed curtains when I feel a weight settle on my bed.
"Andrey?" I murmur, my hand flailing blindly for him.
"I'm here," he says, taking my hand and putting it on his chest. Squinting in the dim light, I see that his head is bowed, looking at the floor. It hurts for some reason. Andrey is not one to ever bow his head.
"Is it all done?" I ask drowsily, trying to focus. How big a dose of pain meds did Auntie Ella give me?
"Yes." He lifts my hand off his chest and kisses it. Each knuckle. My wedding ring. The palm of my hand and my wrist. "Elana Carrington and Carlisle Sinclair will suffer horrendously for what is left of their lives."
"Are you going to be in danger, though, for killing them?" I take hold of the sleeve of his shirt, the only part I can reach. "Now that you're a higher profile Morozov, will it lead back to you?"
He finally looks at me. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his shirt is wrinkled.
There may be a bloodstain on his sleeve.
"I didn't kill them." There's a silky tone of satisfaction in his words that I'm not sure he notices.
"I delivered them to the people they had betrayed the most. They were very happy to receive Elana and Carlisle. "
"That's… that's genius," I say. "Complete, utter genius. You made a Solomon's Judgement. Like, when King Solomon offered to cut the baby in half because the mothers were each claiming the child and… Oh, what the hell? This is the worst possible analogy I could use. What is wrong with me?"
"I understood the reference," he says gently.
"If you've done this amazing thing, why aren't you happier?" I ask. Because he is not happy. Andrey seems terribly sad, in fact. I don't think I've ever seen sorrow from him before. I didn't know he was capable of it.
"I have something to tell you, something you are owed. I'm offering you the chance to leave me," he says, as if the words are physically painful. "I would still take care of you and the children, of course."
My heart is plunging into my stomach. I thought he was happy. He cried when we found out about the babies. "Is that what you want?"
"No," he says instantly.
"Then why are you-"
"I want to be your husband," he cuts me off, taking my hand, gently avoiding the IV.
"I want to be a father to our children. I would always keep them, and you, safe.
But…" He pushes his hair back, it's standing up in spikes, and my usually perfectly groomed husband doesn't seem to notice. "I forced you to marry me, Iris. I manipulated you, and I don’t have the right to demand anything from you. I am so truly sorry for what I’ve done, and for hurting you.
I understand, I think, the pain I've caused you.
Now that I know what this…" he's searching for a word, as if "love" is still too alien to contemplate.
"Love?" I supply. "That we love each other?"
"I understand enough to know that love shouldn't be selfish," he says hoarsely. "If you asked, I would release you from our marriage." Now, his black eyes sharpen. "But know this. I will spend the rest of my life getting you back. Whatever it takes."
I should say something about his noble offer to release me from a forced marriage. Or about his strength of character to make amends for that shitty trick he pulled on me.
Instead, I lick my dry lips and ask, "What would you do to get me back?"
He moves closer, his hip pressing against my thigh. "I would shower you with roses and irises every day. Wherever you went, I'd find you, climbing through your window to lick you into a dozen orgasms, so many that you'd cry and beg me to stop."
Did I just chirp? I don't recognize the sound that just left my mouth.
"I would change diapers." His face twists a little at that one but he carries on. "I'd get up in the middle of the night to feed our babies. And when they were soundly sleeping, I'd come into your bedroom and lick you again."
Gripping the collar of his shirt, I pull him closer. "I don't want to leave. You are making amends and apologizing, that's what I needed. I believe you."
He's barely breathing, listening intently.
"When you were holding me and we were watching the ultrasound together, that was everything I'd hoped for. I want to be here with you. For the rest of our lives."
Andrey…
Iris wants to stay with me, she's embracing this marriage.
Mindlessly, I pull up her hospital gown and kiss her smooth stomach. Now that I'm looking for it, I can see the swell of our babies. Laying my cheek against her skin, I picture our children growing inside her.
"I fucked two babies into you." I press my lips against her swelling stomach, between her breasts and along her throat to her lips. My veins are suddenly liquid fire and there is a primal surge running through me. "These beautiful babies, yours and mine."
She gasps, eyes wide. My wife's aroused and I'm going to take advantage of it. I press my lips hard against hers and she moans, biting my lower lip.
Pushing her gown higher, I lean back to admire her breasts. How could I have missed this? Cupping them, I squeeze gently and her back arches. "They're bigger." Running my thumbs gently over her nipples, I enjoy her little moan. "More sensitive. Do you think you could come if I just sucked them?"
"I have already," she admits.
"Ah, that's right. I remember that night, your legs were wrapped around my thigh and you pushed my head down when I bit your nipple while pulling on the other." She gives a rapturous little shiver and suddenly I'm hard as steel.
She's hurt. We can't do this.
When I reluctantly pull away, Iris grabs my hand, pulling me back. "Don't you dare," she groans. "You can't stop." She slides my hand into her panties and now I groan, she's already wet and dripping for me.
"Malen'kiy tsvetok, you're hurt." Not that my dick seems to care.
"You're so sweet," she says, letting out a gasp that turns into a moan as I stroke my fingers over her nipples again. "I've ended up in worse shape from a cat fight at the sorority house. You won't hurt me."
There was a time I had rigid self-control. But it's stretched to a thread, and now it snaps. I bury my face between her breasts, squeezing and kissing them, biting her nipples, watching them turn from pink to rosy red.
I look at my beautiful wife, like she’s a buffet. Where do I begin?
"Lift your hips."
I draw down her panties, carefully avoiding the bruises on her legs, and spread her knees wide. Her luscious, swelling breasts are heaving with excitement.
She swallows hard. "Go ahead. Please."
Keeping my gaze on hers, I press my mouth against her pussy, swirling around her stiff clitoris, licking down to her opening and back again.
I bite her swelling lips and thrust my tongue inside her.
As I nibble very lightly on her clit, her nails dig into my hair.
Chuckling against her sensitive center, I can feel her shiver, goosebumps rising on the smooth skin of her thighs.
Lifting my mouth just enough, I tell her, "Go ahead and pull my hair.
You can't hurt me." When I slide two fingers inside her, she yanks my hair hard enough that I suspect I'll lose a chunk or two, and I could not care less.
My mouth and chin are wet, licking into her, feeling her grow slicker for me.
"You're close, I can feel it." My hands travel back up to her breasts, playing with them, as I suck on her clit once more, hard. Then she comes, slapping her hand over her mouth, trying not to scream. "So good for me," I praise her hoarsely. "So sweet."
Iris yanks on my shirt, and I unbutton it hastily, throwing it aside and shedding my pants and boxers.
Standing over her, stroking my hard dick, I try to figure out how I can be inside her without disturbing any of the equipment surrounding her.
She grins at me shamelessly, pushing her knees wide and sliding her fingers over her pussy, spreading it open for me.
It's not a smooth moment. I'm too eager. She's too eager. I'm half insane with the need to get inside her. I find a way to pull her ass up gently as I slide inside her, kissing her as another loud moan escapes her lips.
"So fucking tight," I groan, dropping my forehead to her collarbone. I have to push slowly, carefully moving in and out. Slower than she likes and her hands go onto my ass and squeeze. "No matter how turned on you are, love, I can't pound into you. Not in this bed."
After a torturous minute of thrusting, I'm finally deep inside her, deep as I can get.
I lean on one arm as I thrust into her, wrapping her thigh around my forearm, holding her wide.
"You're going to have to relax, wife. You want me to fuck you, but this sweet, perfect pussy is squeezing me too tight.
I will knock this bed across the room if I push any harder.
Loosen up for me." I circle my hips, rubbing my pearls against her walls until I find the perfect angle that hits her G spot, she gasps, blindly grabbing my arms and holding on.
"You're blazing inside, do you know?" I whisper.
"The silky slip and slide inside you, how your channel flutters around my cock. I could do this forever.
"Your luscious tits, I'm going to squeeze them, and suck on them while you're carrying our children, biting these tender little nipples until they're red.
I'll split you wide every day, stretch you, fuck you until I change the way you walk.
" I thrust harder, trying to find a centimeter more of room inside her.
"Every day, wife. I fucked these babies into you.
And I'm going to fuck you until they come out. "
I chuckle deep in my chest, and she presses her breasts up against me, enjoying the rumble. "Don't stop," she groans. "I want to come again."
"Go ahead," I whisper. Taking her nipples between my thumb and forefingers, I tug on them gently at the same time.
My little flower lights up like a Roman candle.
I have to slam my mouth down on hers as she screams into my kiss.
Then I come too, flooding her, wrapping my arms around her, holding her tightly.
I keep thrusting, pumping deep, filling her until our combined finish leaks out of her.
She's shaking, breathless and sweaty. So am I. I stay buried inside her until I think my legs can carry me again. "Mine," I say hoarsely. "Mine forever."
Her arms go around me, her fingers stroking my hair. "Always yours. And you are mine," Iris says with a tone of distinct satisfaction that makes me chuckle and kiss her gently before I carefully pull out, enjoying her little gasp. I tidy her up before I quickly get dressed.
The timing is so good that it's almost suspicious, because just moments later there's a knock on the door and Aunt Ella comes in, smiling brightly. As if it's a perfectly normal morning in the clinic.
"Good morning, you two," she says with a completely straight face. The smell of sweat and sex still hangs heavy in the air. Even as an adult, I groan internally, knowing that my aunt cannot possibly not be aware of it.
"Good morning, Aunt Ella," Iris says in a strange little voice. But Ella only chuckles, checking her vitals and examining her shoulder and the cut on her forehead.
"You are in excellent shape for a woman who got into a fist fight yesterday," she says, with a bit of a chuckle. "I think I can release you. Violet brought clean clothes for you and Rose.”
"Oh, thank you," Iris sighs. "Your clinic is beautiful, but I really want to go home."