Chapter Nineteen – Roman
We laid on my bed with her back pressed against my front, like two spoons clamped together in the kitchen drawer.
I scooted closer, basking in the steady rise and fall of her chest. She wasn’t asleep. And even if she drifted off, I knew she’d want me to shake her back.
She snuggled up, moved her hip, and arched her backside over my erection, teasing me. Her silky nightdress hitched up, baring a smooth curve of perfect ass when I grabbed her waist, stopping her motion, and whispered at the back of her ear, “I’m not going to do anything unless you ask nicely.”
She whimpered, and I imagined the look of frustration on her face. “You want me to beg?”
“I want you to ask.”
I kissed the back of her neck and slid a hand higher up to her hip to get more than a glimpse of her ass. She curved into me, inhaled sharply, and covered my hand on her hip with hers.
She edged higher, bringing the fabric to a full raise.
Both curves were now visible under dim lighting, and as a bonus, she wore no panties. I cupped one of her cheeks and squeezed, feeling my restraint grow weary with every fucking whimper she made.
She raised one of her legs and hooked it behind mine, spreading eagle. Guiding one of my fingers, she slid it into the dampness between her legs. She was soaking wet already.
I growled into her hair, “Fuck.”
She shivered, and her plea sliced the thick silence between us. “I want you, Roman.”
“You’re not asking, Solinishko .”
I pressed my hand against her soaking folds and slowly massaged her clit with my thumb.
She shuddered.
Fuck, I shuddered.
I was driven by a need for this woman, so much that I thought I’d lost my own damn mind. My cock ached in my pants, and I ground it against her, brushed my index over her nub, and slipped my little finger into her quivering pussy.
She buried her back into my chest. “Please, Roman….”
“Please, what?” I asked, my breath trembling.
I jiggled my finger, and she moaned. “Please, make me yours. Please— Ah…. ”
I didn’t wait for her to finish. I couldn’t wait.
I squeezed her tighter and ground my cock against her. The little foreplay had me rock hard. I palmed her breasts over the nightdress and could feel her nipples stretch taut beneath my touch.
Grunting, I pinched them.
Her breath was already coming in pants, and in one quick movement, I buried two fingers inside her.
She gasped, and I pumped faster.
Her moans grew louder, and I got lost in the feeling of her. The sounds. The smell of baby powder on her. Her warmth against me.
I could feel her getting closer, only seconds away from an orgasm.
Her body tensed and quaked.
I pulled the band of my sweatpants down, freeing my painfully hard cock. A shiver ran up my spine as her fingers gently wrapped around the head before she lowered herself onto it.
I bit back a growl. “Stay put, Solinishko .”
Slowly, I was losing control. And I never lost control.
It wasn’t even five minutes, and I was already in danger of coming.
I held her hip steady, pumping into her. I should have been embarrassed at how quickly I was going to come. But I didn’t give a fuck.
She felt very good.
So wet. So hot. So tight.
“I’m close,” I warned her.
Her pussy clamped down hard as I sank deeper. I took a moment, kissing her shoulders softly, taking notes of every quiver and sound. With a final thrust, I lost what was left of my restraint and came inside her.
Deep down inside, I felt that cracked door burst open to splinters. Maria didn’t know it, but she had caused some irreparable damage—damage I could possibly never recover from.
***
Maria lay on her side, and I sat at the edge of the bed, the both of us now naked. After going three times, I couldn’t stand the hindrance of clothes.
I was savoring the afterglow of the moment, my mind relaxed and content when she spoke, her voice hesitant. “Can I ask you something?”
I turned to her, my eyes locking onto hers. “Anything.”
She sat up, and the sheets slipped from her bare chest.
My cock twitched.
I struggled to keep my eyes away from her pink, perky tits and focused on her instead.
Her eyes seemed to search mine, as if looking for something. “I’ve wanted to ask you this for a very long time,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s about Polly’s mother. Who is she? What happened to her?”
A pang settled in my chest, a familiar ache that I had learned to live with. I sucked on the cigar between my lips, the smoke filling my lungs as I thought about the woman who had given birth to my daughter.
The woman I had once loved and lost.
I exhaled slowly, the smoke curling up toward the ceiling, and sauntered over to a drawer on the dresser. There, I took out a picture and handed it over to Maria.
A picture I hadn’t looked at in six years.
A picture of her .
Maria lightly traced her beaming face with her fingers, and her gaze held mine. “I don’t even have to ask; I see where Polly gets her cheerful spirit. Oh, and those eyes. That smile. She’s definitely the one. And she’s so beautiful. Can you tell me about her?”
If any other person had asked, I probably would have requested Lev to take the person on a Level One trip and have the shit beaten out of him—or her. A strong warning to mind their fucking business.
But Maria was not any other person.
I retook my seat on the bed. “Her name was Lorelai. Lorelai Fanning,” I said finally, my voice low and rough.
I took another puff on the cigar, gazing into the past. “I met her in a hail of bullets. It was a clash between us and some Italians in front of one of my restaurants. There was a shootout. She was caught in the crossfire, got shot in the arm and injured by one of my men.”
Another drag on the stick, and I shook my head. “I felt guilty. She had nothing to do with it. So, I took her in, cared for her until she recovered. The starry ceiling lights? That was for her. She said it helped her sleep at night, gazing at the stars in the galaxy. And as she healed, we fell in love. She was innocent. Had that warm glow, like a ray of light. It was refreshing. I had never known someone like her before.”
Maria’s eyes were fixed on mine, her expression soft and encouraging.
I continued, “I married her when she got pregnant. We were happy, or at least as happy as we could be in our world. I thought I had it somehow—a life of forever with the woman who made me happy—even if I didn’t deserve that kind of life. But as should have been expected, happily-ever-afters are not for men like me. She died during childbirth, leaving me with a daughter to raise on my own. My Polina.”
I’d been delusional, and death came knocking on the door to remind me of the man I was and the life I led. I learned the lesson the hard way and never felt so much as a sliver of that emotion ever again.
Until the martial arts tutor came along, with all of her feistiness and warmth.
I paused. “Her dying wish was that I take care of Polina, that I protect her and keep her safe. And I have, Maria. I’ve kept my promise, no matter what it took, and I intend to keep doing so.”
The room was silent for a moment, only the sounds of the soft hum of the air conditioning and her breathing echoing.
Then, Maria spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. Her hand reached out to touch my face, and I leaned into it. “You’re a good father, Roman. Polina is lucky to have you.”
I chuckled, but it lacked humor. “We both know I’m the lucky one.”
I saw the sadness in her eyes. She scooted closer, her arms opening up to me, and I felt a warmth spread through my chest. It was a feeling I hadn’t experienced in a long time, a feeling I thought I’d never feel again.
I let her embrace me, her arms wrapping around me like a gentle breeze on a summer day. She held me tight, her head on my chest, and I felt a heartbeat pounding.
Whether it was hers or mine, I wasn’t sure.
I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. Her rays pierced through the darkness, illuminating a part of me that had long been dormant.
My Little Sun.
All mine.