17. Emily
17
EMILY
THREE DAYS LATER
“How is Alla?” I ask Konstantin as the buttered focaccia sizzles behind him in the kitchen. “Have you heard anything from her new guards?”
Konstantin’s eyes darken slightly at the mention of his grandmother, and I can spot the conflict in them. I know he cares about me—loves me even as he himself told me—but I also know that on some level, it did hurt him to force his grandmother away.
“She’s fine,” he finally replies. “The staff at the southern French chateau tells me that she spends most of the day staring at the land, muttering under her breath.”
“Maybe I was too harsh,” I muse. “I shouldn’t have sent her away.”
“Nonsense, Kitty Cat,” he replies quickly. “You passed a judgement.” Before I can argue, he adds. “A fair judgement all things considered. You had every right to order her death, never forget that.”
“I didn’t want her death on my conscience,” I tell him. “Or yours.”
“I know.” He nods. “Which is why your judgment is fair. ”
“But it’s still cruel. She’s family.”
“This is what happens when you must pass judgement as a pakhan’s wife.” Konstantin gives the bread behind him a quick glance to make sure it’s not burnt before continuing. “Sometimes, there are unsavory choices that you’ll need to make. Just because she’s family doesn’t mean she is automatically forgiven for the wrongs and pains she inflicted on you.” He sighs. “If anything, it makes her crimes so much worse.”
I nod, feeling a little better at Konstantin’s reassuring words. But the mention of families and inflicting pain on each other makes me think of my sister. After all, she’s the one who had been hurt by our parents the most.
After she left, I took her place.
“Families should love each other,” I say. “Unconditionally.”
I don’t know who I’m trying to convince at this point. Myself or Konstantin. All I know is that I needed to say it out loud.
Konstantin nods. “That’s something Ivica told me.”
“She did?” I arch an eyebrow as he plucks the bread from the grill. The scent of butter and olive oil sends my stomach growling in anticipation.
“Yes, Kitty Cat.” He says as he prepares one sandwich. “Ivica told me that I had treated you unfairly since day one. That I made everything between us conditional.” He looks up. “Even our love.”
My heart skips a beat at that word.
Love.
He’d told me he loved me, and yet I couldn’t say it back to him. At that time, it was because I was afraid that he might continue to put the bratva above me. But now, having just heard him say that he defined everything between us as conditional, I know that was the real reason I couldn’t say it back to him.
Can I say it to him now?
“Family ties are important,” he continues before I can say anything. “But if that family is intent on hurting us, on hurting you, then there is no shame in cutting them out.”
Pulling the bread off the stove onto a plate, he circles around until he wraps his arms around me. His breath tickles at my ears as he whispers. “I’m sorry for not being here when I should’ve been.”
“Don’t be,” I tell him. “It was always a matter of time before Alla got to me.”
“Still, if I were here, she would’ve?—”
“She would’ve found a way,” I correct him. “Remember, she had always been able to hurt me. Sometimes right in front of you.”
“You should’ve said something.” His hug tightens, and the overwhelming warmth of his body wraps around me like a comforting cocoon.
“I just assumed that because you were so close to your family,” I say. “Especially after how protective of your sister you are, that I couldn’t tell you what she did.” I take a deep breath. “And I guess I was also afraid that you wouldn’t believe me. This was supposed to be fake but believable, remember?”
“I remember.” He nods against my hair. “I’m sorry, Kitty Cat. I made you feel unsafe here.”
“I don’t feel unsafe now.” I turn and face him. “And I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.”
“Don’t be.” He smiles. “Don’t ever apologize, especially not to me. That’s not how a pakhan’s wife is expected to behave.”
Pakhan’s wife .
It’s the second time he’s said that to me here, and it feels like a splash of cold water washing away the warmth budding between us.
“Do I have to always be the pakhan’s wife?” I ask softly. “I think I would much prefer to just be your wife. If I’m just your wife, it means I married you . But as the pakhan’s wife? I feel like I’ve married the bratva.”
“You’ll always be both,” he whispers and plants another kiss, feather-soft, on my lips as he cradles my face in his hand. “But I swear that my devotion to you comes first and foremost.”
Embarrassingly, my stomach growls in response just in time.
“Sorr—” I stop myself just in time. “How are those sandwiches coming along?”
“Coming right up.”
He rolls up his sleeves, revealing his muscular forearms as he bends back to his task of making sandwiches for both of us. Sweat dots the front of his brows, and an errant strand of his mahogany hair falls over his ice-blue eyes. He shakes it out of the way effortlessly, and his shirt falls open slightly at the button to give me a tantalizing look at his powerful chest.
Yummy …
I bite my lips and squeeze my thighs together at the sight of him moving gracefully in the kitchen, recalling our very first night together when he did something so very similar.
“Here.” He slides a ham and cheese panini in front of me. His gaze lingers for a moment before he turns back to the sandwich being prepared.
I feel myself blush when his tongue darts out between his soft lips. I know what is making his gaze linger.
Me .
I opted for a bright yellow sundress adorned with a floral dotted pattern and a keyhole back. And although all my clothing here in the castle has been tailored to fit me exactly, this morning is the first time that I felt that the dress feels a little tight—first around the hips, and then around the bust when I tried to cinch it up.
Yep … definitely pregnant.
When I asked Konstantin to help me with it in our room, his breathing grew heavier as he closed the loops of the keyhole. When his fingers brushed against my bared skin, I felt my heart speeding up in anticipation for what would’ve happened next.
What should’ve happened next.
To my great disappointment, his powerful hands stroked my back, and took hold of my shoulders. But all he did was kiss me gently on my cheek, showing more restraint than me even though I can see the lust and hunger in his eyes and feel the throb of his cock in the space between us.
Ever since the revelation of my pregnancy at dinner last night, Konstantin has been more fretful around me than ever before. He’s constantly asking if I’m hungry, if I’m comfortable, and if there’s anything that I might need.
At first, I didn’t mind it. And to tell the truth, I still don’t.
But it is started to wear on me a bit, and I can’t help wonder if he’ll be even more protective the further along I am into my pregnancy.
“Just like the first time.” I pick up the sandwich from the plate and bite into it.
The explosion of savory caprese and salty ham, and the mouthy feel of olive oil and butter feel almost better than sex as I let out a long appreciative moan through my nose.
Konstantin watches me intently as I eat one voracious bite after another, before he takes a bite of his own. “Surely I’ve gotten a little bit better since then?”
“If you have, I can’t tell because it’s so damn good.”
“Here.” He reaches up to wipe away a bit of the cheese from the corner of my mouth.
Before I can take the opportunity to turn my lips to kiss his thumb, he pulls it back and gives it a lick. My pussy squeezes in response.
“So, what have you got planned for us today?” I ask, my voice higher than I expected.
“Oh,” he muses as he bites into his. “A little of this, and a little of that.”
Another few bites, and the sandwich disappears, sating the hunger in my stomach. But not the hunger between my legs. I watch as Konstantin eat his sandwich, my gaze lingering as he licks his fingers between bites. Wetness starts to pool between my legs.
Frustration and desire war inside of me. Finally, deciding that if I want him so badly, I’m going to take him myself, I stand up from my seat and march over to him.
He puts his half-eaten sandwich down. “Kitty Cat, wh?—”
Before he can respond, I stand on my tiptoes and plant a deep kiss on his lips. The savory remnants of the sandwich fill my mouth, and I press myself closer to him. My right hand finds his and brings it up to my breast straining against the thin material of my dress.
“Am I your wife?” I whisper when we break apart, gasping.
“Yes.”
“Then treat me like it.”
This time, he doesn’t hesitate anymore. He claims my mouth and his large hand kneads the sensitive flesh of my breast. I moan against his mouth as I feel his free hand pull me by the small of my back closer to him.
His cock is already hard and throbbing between us, and I know he wants this as badly as I do.
He was just waiting for my permission. I realize.
Knowing that I have this power over him makes me even wetter.
When we break from our kiss a second time, Konstantin keeps his hands on me and gives the breast in his hand another gentle squeeze.
“This feels bigger than I remember.”
A flush of embarrassment rushes up my face. “Soon, I’ll be bigger than you remember.”
“More of you to love, then.” His hands roam over my body, down my breasts, and rests at my belly that’s starting to show just the slightest hint of a bump.
“You’re the most beautiful person in the world right now,” he whispers. “Especially now that our child is growing here.”
Our child … My heart races.
Somehow, this just feels right .
I reach up to grab the nape of his neck, and brings his face down to mine for another kiss as his hands continue to explore my changing body.
Powerful fingers dance their way down the exposed back of my keyhole dress. They cup the round shape of my ass, lingering for just a moment before they move down past the hem of my dress. Then, they rise slowly up my thigh until they find my soaked panties against my dripping pussy.
“Oh …” I breathe as he expertly slips his fingers beneath the thin wet fabric, spread me open, and push his way in.
I clench around his finger as my legs buckle against him. His hand holding me to him tightens to keep me from falling, and our mouths lock again. The kiss deepens. My tongue sweeps into his mouth to explore every corner, and he does the same as the finger buried inside of me starts to pump.
I moan and whimper, and all it does is goad him forward.
But I don’t just want his finger.
I want more.
I reach forward and feel the throbbing hardness through his pants. A bead of precum is already soaking the expensive fabric. A moan tumbles from his nose as I start kneading the spongy tip of his cock.
He pulls me closer, and I reach out to unzip his pants. His massive cock immediately tumbles out, its musky scent the perfect complement to the savory butter and olive oil filling the air around us.
I grab hold of the silky skin. Precum coats my fingers, and I start stroking. I can feel his abs tensing each time I bring my hand up and down over the engorged head. I can feel his own finger in me trembling each time I reach the base of his rock-hard length.
I love the way his body responds to my touch.
I love that I’m doing this to him.
Breaking our kiss one more time, I plant a kiss on his chin, his neck, and along his muscular chest dotted with scars. All the while, I pump his cock with my hand, squeezing out more precum as it coats my hand.
Kiss after kiss, I make my way down until I’m inches from his cock. My hair tumbles down like a curtain around his hips as I lower myself to my knees, mouth watering as I prepare to devour his cock.
“Oh my God,” A familiar voice shouts. “Kostya, ew!”
Both of us jump and I quickly get up, my face turning beet red as I catch sight of Alisa quickly turning around, her hands around her eyes. Konstantin tucks his cock back inside of his pants and zips it up.
“Can I turn around now?” she asks.
“Yes!” Konstantin and I say at the same time.
“Can’t the two of you wait until the rest of us have breakfast?” She glances at the sandwich and makes a face. “And why does it have to be here? There’s an entire castle of rooms for you guys to be gross in.”
“Sorry, Aliska,” Konstantin says, smirking. “But?—”
“No!” She raises a finger. “No ‘but’ from you! Ugh.” She shudders. “Please tell me that you guys were just getting started and not finishing up.”
I bite my lips and look away, but Konstantin just laughs.
“I’m so glad you think this is funny, Kostya.” Alisa rolls her eyes as she gives the stove a quick look.
Then, as if she’s taking no chances, she walks over to the fridge and starts rummaging through it for something—anything—in a sealed container.
As much as it disappoints me that we were interrupted, this feels … oddly normal. For the first time since Konstantin slipped his ring on my finger, there’s finally something that I can relate to.
That I married the man and not the bratva.
And it feels good.
“If you would’ve let me finish what I was saying,” Konstantin says. “I would’ve told you that we were just leaving.”
“Good!” Alisa draws the word out as she turns around. “Do you know how many years of therapy I’ll have to do just to get that image out of my head?”
“Nothing I won’t pay for,” he says. “Now, while you’re there, hand me the basket in the fridge. I’ll need that for later.”
“I swear to God, Kostya.” She reaches in and holds out the basket by the tip of her fingers. “If I find out that you’ve been keeping your weird sex toys or whatever else you guys get up to in the freaking fridge, I’m going to lose it!”
“Don’t worry, Aliska.” Konstantin laughs. “There’s only ever going to be food in there.” And then he looks at me with that lopsided grin and devious glint in his eyes. “Even if there is something else that I want to eat.”
My cheeks flush again and Alisa’s eyes dart between me and Konstantin before she makes a gagging noise.
“Please get the fuck out of here before I lose my appetite.” She groans.
Hand in hand, we walk out of the kitchen.
Just as we’re about to turn the corner, I hear Alisa calling out. “And I better not find a single goddamn drop of anything in this kitchen!”