Chapter 10 MAYA
Ten
MAYA
I’m staring at the pregnancy test like it’s going to change if I look at it long enough. It doesn’t. Two pink lines. Clear as day. Pregnant. I’m pregnant. With Mikhail’s baby. Holy shit.
My hands are shaking. My heart’s racing. And I can’t decide if I’m just terrified, overjoyed or… both?
We’ve been engaged for THREE freaking weeks. And now…
“Maya?”
I jump, nearly dropping the test. Mikhail’s standing in the bathroom doorway, looking at me with his intense blue eyes.
“You okay, baby?”
“I… yeah. I’m fine.”
He crosses the room in two strides. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I just…”
His gaze drops to my hand. To the test I’m holding. And he goes very still.
“Is that…”
I nod, shocked silent. Misha takes the test from me, stares at it, then looks back at me.
“You’re pregnant.”
“Yeah.”
Silence. Shit, I can’t read his expression.
He’s all tight jaw and burning eyes, and with my crazy Russian that could mean anything.
I can’t tell if he’s happy, freaking out or something else altogether…
Then he drops to his knees. Right there on the bathroom floor.
He wraps his arms around my body, and presses his face to my stomach.
“Mikhail?” I ask softly, running a hand over his thick, soft hair.
“Mine,” he growls against my skin. “Both of you. Mine.”
Oh God. I’m gonna cry.
“We’re getting married.”
“Yes, baby. Just a couple more months. I won’t even be showing yet.” I reassure him, still gently caressing his head.
But Misha shakes his head, stands, cupping my face and boring into my eyes, his, shining with unshed tears. Oh. My. God.
“Today, Milaya. We’re getting married now.”
“What?! Misha, my mom, Ana, Katya… Sofia! Everything we already planned!”
“Today,” he repeats firmly, huge hands bracketing my face.
“Baby, we can’t just…”
He places a hard, closed-mouth kiss on my lips and takes my hand.
“We’re a family. Need to make it official.”
* * *
An hour later, we’re in the car. I’m still in shock, and Mikhail’s driving like a man on a mission. Eyes fixed straight ahead, jaw tight, knuckles white on the steering wheel.
“Honey, this is insane.”
“You’re pregnant with our baby, and we don’t share a last name. That’s insane.”
“We only have a few months to wait…” A muscle jumps in his cheek. “What about our families? Everything you already spent on the wedding?”
“Everything we spent.” Right, always reminding me that what’s his is mine. “We’ll still do all that shit you wanted. But give me this. Please.”
It’s the ‘please’ that gets me. And, not gonna lie, I freaking love his badass intensity, his need to claim me in every possible way…
When we pull into the courthouse parking lot, Misha’s out of the car and at my door before I can even unbuckle. He helps me out, threading his fingers through mine as we walk toward the building.
“You sure about this?” I ask.
He looks at me, outrage written all over his face. “I’ve never been more sure of a fucking thing in my life.”
The ceremony is quick. It’s just us and a judge who looks quite concerned about the whole ‘we don’t have a license but somehow strings were pulled in high places’…
“I, Mikhail Maksimov, take you, Maya Ross, to be my wife. To protect, to provide for, to love. For the rest of our lives.”
“I, Maya Ross, take you, Mikhail Maksimov, to be my husband. To stand by and to love for the rest of our lives.”
After declaring us husband and wife, the judge seems to relax a bit. “You may kiss the…”
Mikhail doesn’t wait for him to finish. He pulls me against his broad chest and kisses me hard, deep, possessive. Claiming me in front of the whole world. Well, a judge and his clerk.
When he finally pulls back, I’m dizzy, excited, nervous. Did I just commit to a lifetime with my hot, grumpy Bratva neighbor? Sure did.
“Wife,” he growls against my lips.
“Husband,” I whisper back.
* * *
We don’t make it past the front door of the house. The second we’re inside, he’s on me. Backing me against the wall, his mouth on mine, his hands every fucking where.
“Misha…”
“My wife,” he growls. “Carrying my baby.”
He drops to his knees, pushes up my shirt, and presses his lips to my stomach. In an achingly tender gesture.
“Mine. Both of you.”
I run my fingers through his short hair. “Yes, my love.”
He stands, lifting me to carry me upstairs. There, he gently lays me on the bed, then strips me bare with slow, reverent hands.
Running his callous palms over my stomach, he rasps out, “So fucking beautiful.”
I smile, shaking my head. “I’m not even showing yet.” He gives me one of his death glares, which makes me laugh.
Then he’s on my lips. Kissing me, his hands all over my body. Making my thighs clench.
“Need to be inside you, sweetheart,” he growls against my mouth.
I moan, writhing under him. He strips fast, tugging on his clothes hard enough to rip.
Then he’s between my legs, his long, thick, heavy cock sliding through my drenched folds, the head rubbing against my clit.
Feeling so good… so damn good… Then my husband slides home in one hard thrust. And we both groan.
“Fuck, wifey. So wet for me,” he grunts, thrusting his hips back and forth in a deliciously wicked swirl.
“Always, husband,” I whimper back.
He keeps giving it to me in long, slow, deep thrusts that have me clawing at his back, my head thrown back, loud cries falling from my lips.
His big body surrounding mine, his mouth on my tits, hands squeezing my ass hard, pulling me to meet the slaps of his hips.
Fucking perfect. Pleasure ripples through my entire being.
From my hard nipples being tortured by Misha’s devilish tongue, to my clit that’s incessantly rubbing against his pubic bone, to my inner walls being assaulted over and over by his incredible length and girth.
“My wife,” he growls with every thrust. “Mine. Mine. Mine.”
“Yes, baby,” I gasp. “And you’re all mine, too.”
Then his hand slides between us, finding my clit to rub wonderful circles that have me lifting off the mattress.
“Oh my God, Misha!”
“Come for me, Mrs. Maksimov!” he roars.
That does something to me. His name. Our family.
I come hard, yelling like a banshee and shaking with shattering waves of pleasure.
Mikhail fucks me through my orgasm, holding my face in a grip tight enough that I have no choice but to stare into his wild blue eyes while he keeps snapping his hips into mine.
Over, and over, and over… Until a mighty growl thunders from his chest and he holds himself buried balls deep inside me, jerking rope after rope of thick, heavy cum. Filling me, fucking marking me.
When we finally, finally stop shaking, he pulls me into his strong arms. Our sweat-covered bodies melting together. Scents blending. His cock, still inside me. Like we never want to let go. Never want the connection to end.
Misha’s hand goes back to my stomach, and he whispers hoarsely, “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby.”
He kisses my forehead, all sweet and loving, while I’m still stuffed full of his cum and big dick… “Best thing that ever happened to me.”
I smile teasingly, running my fingers along his hairline. “Who, me or the baby?”
He chuckles, giving me another kiss. “Both.”
I snuggle into his chest. “So, we’re really doing this? Marriage, baby, everything.”
“Yeah, Milaya. We are.”
I lie there, grinning huge, with his ring on my finger, his baby in my belly, wrapped in my husband’s arms.