15. Maggie #3
“I’m…I’m going to come,” I gasp. Tingles shoot through each of my limbs, and my core tightens in anticipation of my release. Locking my legs at my ankles, I pull him as deep as I can, wanting to feel every inch of him inside me.
“Come for me,” he orders, rolling his thumb over my clit. The room explodes into vibrant colors as my release rips through me with the force of a freight train. I scream, a raw, ragged sound that tears at my throat, and my back bows off the bed.
“Yess!” I cry out, riding the waves of pleasure.
He drives into me one last time, burying himself to the hilt, so deep I can feel him kissing the entrance of my womb.
He stills, his whole body going rigid, and then he roars.
I feel the hot pulse of his cum painting my insides, spurt after spurt of thick, liquid heat filling me up.
It’s overwhelming, the feeling of him claiming me from the inside out.
His hips jerk involuntarily with each pulse, draining every last drop. He collapses on top of me then, his heavy weight pinning me to the mattress, his face buried in the crook of my neck. We’re both gasping for air, chests heaving, hearts pounding a frantic duet against each other’s ribs.
I can feel his cock twitching inside me as it begins to soften. I stare up at the ceiling, my vision slowly clearing, my body limp and boneless in the aftermath. I can still feel the ghost of the pleasure, a lingering echo that makes my muscles twitch randomly.
Alexei lifts his head, his blue eyes locking onto mine. They’re softer now, the fierce hunger from earlier giving way to something tender and content. He brushes damp hair away from my face, his thumb tracing my lower lip.
He kisses me deeply, tasting himself on my tongue. I melt against him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he pulls me closer.
“I love you, Alexei.”
“I love you too.” He brushes a kiss across my forehead. “And now that I have you, I'm never letting you go. Anyone who tries to come between us will regret it.”
I smile. “You sound awful sure of yourself.”
“I am.” He tips my chin up until I have no choice but to look at him. “You're mine, Maggie. In every way that matters. Nothing in this world is taking you away from me.”
My heart squeezes. “Good,” I whisper. “Because I don't plan on going anywhere.”
We stay tangled together for a long while, neither of us in any hurry to move.
I trace absent circles across his chest while the early morning sunlight peeks through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Neither of us has managed to fall back asleep, but honestly, I don't mind. The quiet feels precious these days.
“Ivy's rehearsal starts at three,” I murmur, resting my chin against his shoulder.
Alexei nods once, his fingers gliding slowly up and down my back. “Luka wants us there by two thirty.”
I lift my head to look at him. “You realize this is a dance rehearsal, right? Not a presidential summit.”
“There will be enough security,” he replies evenly, as if we're discussing the weather.
“Alexei.”
“Plainclothes only.”
I prop myself on one elbow and narrow my eyes at him. “How many?”
He remains suspiciously silent.
“Oh, for heaven's sake.” I push myself upright, clutching the sheet against my chest. “These are six-year-olds in tutus.”
“Children aren’t the concern.”
The seriousness in his voice wipes the teasing right off my face. I search his face, noticing the hard set of his jaw and the faint shadows beneath his eyes.
“You still think somebody might come after Ivy,” I whisper.
For several seconds, he says nothing. His attention remains on the ceiling, and something inside me sinks.
"I think the threat against both of you remains very real,” he says at last.
I reach for his hand without thinking, threading our fingers together. “We can't live scared forever.”
“No,” he agrees, tightening his grip around mine. “But we can remain careful.”
I squeeze his hand gently. “Well,” I say after a moment, forcing some lightness back into my voice, “today we're watchin’ little girls dance around a stage, and nobody is gonna ruin that. Bless their hearts if they try.”
To my surprise, Alexei actually laughs. The deep sound rumbles through his chest beneath my hand, and he looks almost startled by it himself.
I grin. “There he is.”
His brow furrows. “There who is?”
“The man capable of smilin’ before coffee.”
His brow furrows. “I smile.”
I snort. “Honey, no you don't. You occasionally look less irritated.”
Before I can dodge him, Alexei wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me back against him. I squeal, laughing as he buries his face against my neck.
“Irritated?” he repeats, sounding deeply offended.
“Mhmm,” I say, fighting another laugh.
“Interesting.”
I laugh harder when he presses a kiss to my temple.
A loud knock interrupts us.
“Papa?” Ivy calls through the door. “Agatha made pancakes!”
Alexei closes his eyes with the long-suffering expression of a man who knows privacy in a house with a six-year-old is a myth.
I can't help laughing. “Looks like breakfast is ready.”
Another knock rattles the door.
“And Winston stole bacon!” Ivy reports in a horrified voice.
Alexei releases a theatrical sigh. “Of course he did.”