Chapter 12Vasily
Vasil y
“You little liar!” Ana hisses.
I jolt upright on the sofa, horrified that Ana’s finally gotten a real memory back.
I can see the way she’s been processing things differently the last few days.
I took her to church on Sunday, and even though it was a different church from the one I took her to in Flagstaff, I think the Russian Orthodox service actually churned more memories than if I’d taken her to one of the thousands of Catholic churches she would have been more familiar with.
I do attend this church. The Russian one.
Not often, and never before without Kostya, who’s gone to New Mexico to deal with some shipping issue he’s told me not to worry about.
This church was a solace when I first came here from Flagstaff and had only Kostya and Janson with me.
There was nothing of home, and regardless of everything that’s happened in my life, the concept of home has always been high value for me.
Ana is home, and I’ve given up fighting that, just like I’ve given up the idea that she’ll never get her memories back.
I should probably give up the lies and admit that I was never her husband, just the man who agreed to marry her when she asked, only to cut ties the moment I got promoted.
It was meant to protect her. Clearly, it failed, and I’ll do better this time.
I just need to convince her to stay, which will be easier if my baby grows in her.
I may have run out of time.
And of course it’s going to be when Ana is about to swallow my cock right down her beautiful throat.
She pops her head up, and that is an iron fucking grip she has on my cock as she pushes her thumb hard enough just below the remaining piercing that I’m about to pop off myself.
If she’s about to call me out on every fucking lie I’ve told her this week, I hope she’s ready for me to blow my load all over her as she does it because I’m right on the edge.
“The counting? Odin? Dva? Chiter?”
Okay, that was one, two, four, and if I’m actually translating that, it’s one, two, cheater, but I’m not going to correct her.
“Vasily, I see all the scars here! Did you take a bunch of piercings out?”
“Da, yeah.” I swear she’s been wrecking my English. But I catch her pupils dilating and her color rising when I speak in Russian, and it’s hard to ignore that positive reinforcement.
“Why? Am I counting this right?” she leans close enough to my dick I’m hoping she’ll lick it just once— and that she’ll enjoy the ensuing facial— and she has to feel the way it jerks in her hand as she touches every single dimple left behind, but then she just keeps a casual hand on it as she decides on six piercings.
“What is happening here? Why did you get these to begin with?”
“It was long before you. And then you came into the picture and I...” used them to count each year that passed, but that’s even more insane saying it directly to her.
“I made you take them out?” she gasps, shocked.
“Well, no, but—”
That steel grip tightens right back up. “Vasily, I love these. Put them back.”
“I can’t just put them back,” I chuckle. “They’d have to be repierced, and trust me when I say you won’t like the healing process.” I couldn’t keep her off my dick if I tried.
“Okay, but this one right here. This one feels like it’s just been pulled out. Where’s the bar? Do you still have it? I’ll put it back in for you.”
I cough to dodge the feral look in her eyes. “Not while my dick’s hard, you’re not!”
Oh, but that doesn’t do anything to dull the gleam in her eyes, actually. “I guess we’ll just have to figure out how to soften you up, then,” she says wickedly as she crawls up from where she was kneeling between my legs to straddle my thighs.
There are no panties to get rid of; the second we got home from church on Sunday, she pulled the scarf from her head and the modest dress I picked out for her— something I did the first time she met Father Niko in Flagstaff and I’m already thinking should be a tradition to continue— from her body, stripped herself bare, and then threw on my hoodie.
Her hoodie. I lost that battle.
And that’s pretty much all she’s worn since then .
She settles her weight on me, and I guide her onto my cock, but the moment I’m buried deep inside her, she takes over.
She has the most beatific smile as she rests her wrists on my shoulders so she can take hold of the back of my head.
When I sink back onto the sofa, she leans down with me, but she keeps space between us enough that she can look down on me as her hair, half the length it once was but light and bouncy and free, falls into her face.
“I love you,” I murmur, and fuck, I’m already dreading the power of those words once she figures everything out and hates me.
It’s all so easy now, but that’s not my life.
Easy has never worked for me. Eventually, she’ll remember that the only time she actually spoke those words, just like that, was when she was begging me not to leave her with her brother.
And I left her with her brother.
For six years.
I let her go, and she nearly died. She nearly ended up a prisoner to some disgusting, pathetic man who had to buy women because he was too vile for anyone to want him. Or some sicko who just preferred it that way.
I reclaim my hoodie the most subtle way possible, tugging it up over her head and down her arms, lifting them one by one off my shoulders, baring her body for my eyes to feast upon.
She gives me a slightly sheepish look, one I’ve already clocked a dozen times, whenever I see her naked in the daylight.
I don’t know how to tell her how beautiful she is in a way she’ll believe.
There are no words to assure her of that, only time, but I take hold of her tits and give them a good squeeze, relishing the flesh in my palms.
“Just wait until these get all filled with milk,” I tell her, knowing that she’ll actually respond better to that .
Her eyes go heavy, her lashes fluttering as she arches her spine to fill my hands better.
“Will you like that, Ana? Will you like getting all round and swollen for me? Filled with my child? How needy you’ll be, how insatiable you’ll be even as we have to get creative about how we fuck because your great big belly will be in the way?”
“Please!” she whimpers, her pussy clenching over me. “Please give me a baby!”
“I’ll give you many babies. Keep you bred forever now.
Bred so much that every time the office across the street looks out the window to jerk off to your shows, your belly will be fattening with another baby—oh fuck, you love that, don’t you?
” I groan as she starts to buck on my lap, her whole body quaking, so overwhelmed with lust.
“No!” she cries out, but she’s lying. It’s sweet. “I don’t! I-I-I—oh god.” She ends on a groan as she gushes in my lap, her body melting.
But I haven’t come yet. I flip her down onto the sofa, laying her over the hoodie, knowing she’s going to make a mess on it and wear it anyway because until her belly does start to swell, I don’t know how else to mark her for everyone to see.
I grab her behind one of her knees, spreading her legs wide so I can pound into her as she begs me to stop.
“No, Ana,” I growl, barely able to talk, I’m so close to spilling. “You fucking love it. You love to be watched. And you are going to put on a show in my office every fucking day if I tell you to.”
Ana gushes at the threat, and she starts panting wildly and attempting to escape me, her body on overload, but I’m not letting her go. If she passes out from pleasure, I still won’t have fucked her hard enough.
I’m never going to stop fucking her .
Never.
She’s fucking mine.
And when I can’t hold back anymore, when I come so hard I swear half my spinal cord shoots out my cock into her thirsty cunt, I know that it doesn’t matter what happens.
She’s not going anywhere.
“Vasily,” she moans as I collapse over her, our sweat-slicked bodies fusing together as her cunt continues to milk me to the point it starts to hurt, but I don’t give a fuck.
Her body is jelly beneath me, completely boneless, her arm and leg flung off the side of the sofa because she can no longer hold me. “Vasily, your phone.”
It’s only then that I hear it too.
“Let it go,” I grumble, more concerned with whether I need to get off her or if the sofa has enough give in it that I won’t crush her to death.
“It keeps ringing. You gotta answer it.”
“Nooooo,” I whine, although I reach for it.
Kind of.
Ana may be jelly, but I’m feeling more like molasses.
A great, monstrous sound rumbles out of me as I roll off her, nearly fall off the edge of the sofa, toss her over me, and slide more securely onto the sofa so I can throw my arm over the coffee table to grab my phone.
Ana, to her credit, starts to grind on me like her pussy didn’t just suck the life out of me.
I’ll probably drag her down to the office after this phone call and make her put on a show. If I drag it out enough, I might be able to resurrect my dick again for her.
“Fuck,” I mutter when I see the name on my phone. Benedetti. The very idea of talking to her while I’m slick with Ana’s cum churns my stomach. No honest explanation of Benedetti will make Ana happy. But I answer the call just to stop the buzzing. “Make it quick.”
“I’m in the silo. You need to get your ass over here.”
At least her tone is abrasive enough that nothing Ana hears will have her questioning if Benedetti and I have fucked.
“Nah, I’ll send—” Shit. I sent Vlad, one of my guys from the old Flagstaff brigade, back to the home town when I first found out about the issues happening there.
When I talked to Kseniya, I sent Janson, too.
With his FBI background, I figured he’d be good to investigate what happened to Alex.
If Alex is dead, it’s going to be a bloodbath.
“Kostya’s back in town. Get him.”