Chapter 7 Konstantin
Konstantin
The dining room is transformed.
Candles everywhere. The long table covered in white linens, crystal glasses catching the light. Plates of food covering every surface. Traditional Russian dishes my mother spent days preparing. The Christmas tree visible through the doorway, all lit up and beautiful.
The entire family is here. Dimitri and Anya. Their daughter Natasha, excited and bouncing in her chair. My mother's sisters and their families. Cousins I haven't seen in years. At least twenty people, all dressed up, all talking at once.
And Jemma, sitting beside me in that green velvet dress, looking like she belongs here.
Looking like she's mine.
"Your mother keeps looking at us,” she whispers.
"She's hoping for grandchildren."
Jemma's face flushes. We both know that's a real possibility now. I've been filling her with cum for four days straight. Her virgin body, taking everything I give her.
"Konstantin."
"Everyone!" My mother stands, clinking her glass. "Before we eat, I want to say something!"
Oh no.
"Mama?"
"Hush! I talk!" She's already crying happy tears. "I am so grateful we are all together for Christmas. Family is everything. And this year, we have special blessing—my Kostenka finally brings home girlfriend!"
Everyone applauds. Jemma smiles, but I can feel her tension.
"I know some of you think, oh, Yelena makes up stories about her son! But no! Look! She is real! She is beautiful! And she loves my boy! I see it!"
"Mama, maybe we should—"
"No, no! Let me finish! Jemma, devochka, you make my son happy. First time in years, he smiles. He laughs. He is... alive again." She's really crying now. "Thank you for loving him. Thank you for seeing good man under all the..." She waves vaguely. "The pakhan things."
Jemma's eyes are welling up too.
"To family!" My mother raises her glass. "To love! To Christmas! To my son and his beautiful girlfriend!"
"To Konstantin and Jemma!" everyone echoes.
We drink. Under the table, Jemma's hand finds mine. She's shaking.
Dinner progresses. Course after course. My mother has outdone herself. The food is incredible. The conversation flows—family catching up, stories being told, laughter filling the room.
Dimitri leans over at one point. "Your mother is going to be insufferable now. She'll have you married by Easter."
"Probably."
"You actually going to do it?"
"Yes."
He blinks. "You're serious."
"Completely serious. I'm going to marry her. Have children with her. Build a life with her." I look at Jemma, who's talking to Natasha about something. She's smiling, relaxed, beautiful.
As dinner winds down, people start standing to make toasts. It's tradition—everyone says something about family, about the year, about hopes for the future.
Dimitri toasts to the family's success. Anya toasts to health and happiness. Various cousins toast to prosperity and peace.
Then everyone is looking at me.
"Konstantin! You must toast!" My mother is beaming. "You have girlfriend now! You must say something!"
I should decline. Should keep it simple. Should not do what I'm about to do.
But I've been lying for four days. To my family, to myself about why I brought her here.
I'm done lying.
I stand. Pick up my glass.
"I'm not good at speeches," I start.
"Then keep it short!" someone yells. Everyone laughs.
"Four days ago, I came here under false pretenses. My mother told everyone I had a girlfriend. I didn't." I look at Jemma. She's watching me with wide eyes. "But I did have someone I'd been... interested in. For a long time."
My mother is nodding encouragingly.
"So I brought her here. Asked her to pretend. To help me avoid embarrassing my mother." I pause. "That was the plan. Pretend for five days. Then go back to our normal lives."
Jemma's hand is gripping her glass so tight her knuckles are white.
"But something happened. Something I didn't expect.
" I can't look away from her. "I fell in love with her.
Actually fell in love. Not the obsession I'd been feeling for months.
Real love. The kind that makes you want to be better.
The kind that makes you believe in things you stopped believing in years ago. "
The room is completely silent.
"Jemma, I know this started wrong. I know I didn't give you much choice.
But being here with you these past four days—watching you with my family, seeing you fit into my life so perfectly—I realized something.
" I set down my glass and turn to her fully.
"I don't want this to be pretend anymore.
I don't want you to leave after Christmas. I want you to stay. With me. Forever."
She stares at me, a tear rolling down her cheek. Her mascara is long gone.
"I love you. I've loved you since the first time you smiled at me. And I'm done pretending I don't. I'm done hiding it." I reach into my pocket and pull out the small box I've been carrying for two days.
Jemma's eyes go wide.
"Marry me."
It's not a question. It's a demand. A plea. Everything I am laid bare in front of my family.
The room explodes.
My mother is sobbing. Dimitri is laughing. Everyone is talking at once.
But I'm only looking at Jemma.
She stands slowly. Walks around the table to me. Her eyes are streaming tears but she's smiling.
She holds out her left hand.
"Put the ring on," she says.
"Is that a yes?"
"That's a yes. Of course it's a yes."
I slide the ring onto her finger. Then I kiss her in front of everyone. Claiming her. Showing everyone that she's mine.
When I pull back, my mother is sobbing so hard Anya has to hold her up.
"MY BOY! MY BOY IS GETTING MARRIED!"
Everyone rushes forward. Hugs and congratulations and chaos. Jemma is pulled into embraces by aunts and cousins. My mother won't let go of her, crying and babbling in Russian about weddings and babies and happiness.
Dimitri appears at my side. "Did you actually just propose? In front of everyone. Very public. Very permanent."
"That was the point." I watch Jemma laughing with my family, the ring catching the light. "No backing out now."
He shakes his head, grinning. "You're the luckiest bastard alive."
"I know."
The party continues for hours. More food, more drinks, more toasts. Everyone wants to talk to Jemma, to see the ring, to offer unsolicited wedding advice.
***
Finally, near midnight, I manage to extract her from the crowd.
"Escaping?" Dimitri asks as we head for the stairs.
"It's been a long night."
"I'm sure it'll be an even longer one." He smirks. "Congratulations, cousin. Truly."
We make it to our room. I lock the door behind us and turn to find Jemma staring at the ring on her finger.
"Your mother is already planning the wedding," she says.
"She started planning the moment she saw you."
"She told me she's thinking spring. Or maybe summer. Definitely white roses. And she has opinions about the cake."
"We can plan whatever you want."
"What do I want?" She looks up at me, eyes shining. "I want to marry you. That's all I know for sure right now."
"Then that's all that matters." I cross to her, take her hands. "Everything else is just details."
"Your family thinks we've been dating for months."
"They know the truth now. I told them it started as pretend. They don't care."
"Your mother is going to want a big wedding."
"Probably. But if you want to elope tomorrow, we elope tomorrow. It's your choice."
She smiles. "I think your mother would actually kill us if we eloped."
"Fair point."
"Besides, I kind of want the wedding. The dress. The family. All of it." She touches the ring, turning it on her finger. "I haven't had family in so long. And now I have this huge, chaotic, overwhelming Russian family that wants to throw me a wedding."
"You're stuck with us now."
"Good." She steps closer, her hands sliding up my chest.
I undress her slowly this time, savoring every moment. The green velvet dress slides off her body like water. Underneath she's wearing the black lace—but no panties, because I pocketed those earlier and haven't given them back.
"You went to dinner with no panties," I murmur, running my hands over her ass. "Sitting next to me with my cum leaking out of you. Did anyone notice?"
"I don't think so. But I felt it the whole time. Felt you."
"Good. That's how I want you. Constantly aware of who you belong to."
I strip off my own clothes, taking my time. Let her look at me. At the wolf tattoos covering my chest and arms. At the scars from my life before her. At my cock, already hard and ready for her.
"You're beautiful," she breathes.
"I'm scarred and dangerous."
"You're beautiful to me." She reaches out, traces one of the scars on my ribs. "Every part of you."
I lay her on the bed gently. Kneel between her thighs. Look at her spread out before me—flushed and wanting and mine.
"I love you," I tell her, leaning down to kiss her stomach. "I love you so fucking much."
"Show me."
I start at her feet, kissing my way up her body. Her ankles. Her calves. The inside of her thighs. She's trembling by the time I reach her pussy.
"Konstantin, please—"
"Patience." I lick through her folds slowly, tasting the mixture of my cum from earlier and her fresh arousal. "I'm taking my time with you tonight. Making sure you know exactly how much I love you."
I work her with my tongue, alternating between long, slow licks and focused attention on her clit. She's writhing, her hands fisting in my hair, trying to pull me closer or push me away—I can't tell which.
"You taste perfect," I murmur against her pussy. "Like you were made for me to worship."
I slide two fingers inside her, crooking them to hit that spot that makes her see stars. My tongue continues working her clit in steady circles.
"I'm going to—" she gasps.
"Come for me, my love. Let me taste it."
She comes with a cry, her pussy clenching around my fingers. I lick up every drop of her release, groaning at the taste.
I kiss my way back up her body. Stop to worship her breasts—small and perfect, with nipples that harden under my tongue. I suck one into my mouth, teasing it with my teeth while my hand plays with the other.
"Konstantin."
"I love your breasts," I murmur against her skin. "Can't wait to see them full of milk when you're pregnant. Can't wait to watch our baby feed from them."
She whimpers. "You're obsessed."
I move to her other breast, giving it the same attention. "With the idea of you carrying my child? Yes. With making sure everyone knows you're mine? Completely."
I finally make my way to her mouth, kissing her deeply. She can taste herself on my tongue. Her hands slide down my back, gripping my ass, trying to pull me closer.
"I need you inside me," she whispers.
"I know. I need it too." I position myself at her entrance. "Look at me. I want to see your eyes when I fill you."
She does, her eyes dark with love and lust and trust.
I push inside slowly. So slowly. Savoring every inch. The way her pussy stretches to accommodate me. The way her breath catches. The way her eyes flutter with pleasure.
"I love you," I tell her with every thrust. "I love your smile. Your kindness. Your strength. The way you fit into my life like you were always meant to be there."
"I love you too," she gasps. "I love how you see me. How you want me. How you make me feel safe even when I should be terrified."
I pick up the pace slightly, angling my hips to hit that perfect spot inside her. She moans. I can feel her touching herself, feel the added pressure as she works toward her orgasm.
"That's it, beautiful. Come for me. Come on my cock while I'm making love to you."
She comes with my name on her lips, her pussy clamping down on me. The sensation pushes me over the edge. I bury myself deep and fill her with another load, grinding to make sure it stays deep.
"Mine," I breathe against her neck. "My fiancée. My future wife. The mother of my children."
"Yours. All yours. Forever."
I roll us to our sides, keeping myself buried inside her. Outside the window, snow is falling softly, lit up by Christmas lights from the house. The tree in the corner casts a warm glow over everything.
"I can't believe this is real," she murmurs.
"It's real. The ring on your finger. My cock inside you. The future we're going to build together. All real."
She's quiet for a moment, just tracing patterns on my chest. Then: "What if I'm pregnant already?"
"Then we plan a fast wedding and celebrate." I slide my hand down to her stomach, pressing gently. "But either way, I'm not stopping. I'm going to fill you every day until your belly swells with my baby. Until there's physical proof that you're mine."
"You really are obsessed with breeding me."
"Yes. Is that a problem?"
"No." She kisses my jaw. "I love it. I love that you want me that much. Want to bind me to you that completely."
"I want everything with you. Marriage. Children. A life built on this insane, intense love we have."
"Insane and intense. That describes us perfectly."
"It does." I pull out slowly, watching my cum leak out of her. "But I wouldn't change a single thing."
I pull her close, the ring on her finger catching the light.
"I love you," I whisper into her hair.
"I love you too," she whispers back.
And I know, with absolute certainty, that I'm the luckiest man alive.
We fall asleep tangled together, and I sleep better than I have in years.
Because she's mine.
She's really, truly mine.
My fiancée.
My future wife.
My everything.