Epilogue
Anna
The baby was almost a year old now.
Nadia and Alex were both thrilled to have a little brother.
After Evan was born, I'd been breastfeeding him for nearly a year. Finally, weaning time was close.
The little guy lay in my arms, latched onto my nipple, nursing contentedly. His tiny fist clutched my other breast, the wet suckling sounds loud in the quiet bedroom.
Ivan stood in the doorway watching, finger pressed to his lips, silencing the housekeeper. Only after Evan finished, yawning in satisfaction, did he stride over and lift our son from my arms, passing him to the housekeeper at the door.
Then he locked it.
"Little man's had his fill. My turn now."
He pounced, pinning me back against the bed.
His large hand yanked up my loose nursing shirt, mouth closing over the nipple still wet with Evan's saliva.
I shuddered, that familiar ache spreading through me—ticklish and burning. I shoved at his head. "Ivan Volkov! Have you no shame? That's for your son, not you!"
He ignored me, sucking harder, tongue circling the tip.
His other hand found my other breast, kneading until both nipples tightened and hardened, heat pooling low in my belly, that familiar ache building.
He sucked, then bit down lightly.
Looked up at me, those gray-blue eyes bottomless, drowning in lust. "My kitten, even here you taste sweet. I regret not being there when you were pregnant with Alex. I missed so much."
My face burned. I cursed him for his shamelessness.
What kind of talk was this?
But my body melted like water. A year without him—I'd missed his touch desperately.
His palm slid lower, finding the apex of my thighs, fingertips stroking my clit through the thin fabric of my underwear.
I tensed immediately, gasping.
He bit my nipple again, voice dropping to a rough command. "Spread your legs, kitten. Do it yourself."
I bit my lip, trembling under his touch, and slowly obeyed.
He reached for something he'd prepared earlier—a restraint—dangling it before my eyes with a raised brow. "New one today. You'll love the color."
Wine-red silk ribbon that made my skin look even more glowing.
He took my hands, positioned them behind my back, and began binding them slowly, expertly. The pressure was perfect—not painful, but inescapable.
"Master..."
The word slipped out, muffled around the nipple still in his mouth.
Satisfaction flickered across his face. He licked along my collarbone, breath hot against my ear. "Good girl. Master's going to reward you properly."
He released me, knelt between my spread thighs, and kissed his way down from my belly. Lower. Until his mouth found that most sensitive place, tongue working magic.
Bound and helpless, I could only arch into him.
Pleasure crashed over me in waves. He knew my body too well—knew exactly how to make me shake.
I came fast, trembling and calling his name.
His rough whisper filled my ear. "Say it. Say you're mine. Only mine."
"I'm yours," I gasped, barely coherent. "Only yours, Master."
"Good." His voice was dark velvet, satisfied and hungry all at once. "Now let's see how much you can take."
He shifted, positioning himself at my entrance, teasing. Not entering. Just dragging the head of his cock through my wetness, circling my clit with agonizing slowness.
I whimpered, hips lifting instinctively.
"Patience, kitten." He pressed my hips down with one hand, holding me still. "You don't come again until I say so."
Then he pushed inside—slow, deliberate, stretching me inch by torturous inch. A year of celibacy made me unbearably tight, and he groaned low in his throat, eyes falling shut.
"Fuck, Anna. So tight. Like the first time."
I clenched around him involuntarily, and his fingers dug into my hips.
"Don't." His voice was strained. "Don't move yet or I'll lose it."
But I couldn't help it. My body remembered his, craved this. I rocked against him, desperate.
His control snapped.
He pulled out almost completely, then slammed back in, setting a brutal pace. Deep. Hard. Relentless.
The bed frame creaked with each thrust, headboard knocking against the wall. He leaned over me, one hand braced beside my head, the other gripping my bound wrists, using them as leverage to drive deeper.
"Look at me," he commanded.
I forced my eyes open, met that stormy gray-blue gaze.
"Who do you belong to?"
"You," I choked out.
"Say my name."
"Ivan."
He angled his hips, hitting that spot inside that made stars burst behind my eyelids.
I cried out, thighs shaking.
"Again."
"Ivan, God, Ivan!"
"That's right." He slowed, grinding deep, circling his hips. "And this?" He reached between us, fingers finding my clit. "Who does this belong to?"
"You, please—"
"Please what?"
"Please let me come. Master, please."
He smiled, wicked and beautiful. "Not yet."
He pulled out completely, flipping me onto my stomach with ease. My bound hands pressed against the small of my back as he lifted my hips, positioning me on my knees, chest pressed to the mattress.
Vulnerable. Exposed. Completely at his mercy.
His palm smoothed over the curve of my ass, then smacked down—sharp, stinging.
I yelped.
"Count."
Another smack.
"One," I gasped.
"Louder."
Smack.
"Two!"
He alternated between cheeks, palm warming my skin until it burned. By the fifth, I was sobbing his name, dripping onto the sheets.
"Such a good girl." He spread me open with his thumbs, admiring. "Look how wet you are. Soaking for me."
Then his tongue—hot and wicked—licked a stripe from my clit to my other hole, circling that forbidden place.
I jolted, shocked.
"Ivan—"
"Shh." He did it again, slower. "Remember what you promised? You'd try anything once."
My heart hammered. "I—"
"Trust me, kitten."
His finger pressed against my rim, slick with lube I hadn't noticed him grab. Gentle pressure, working me open slowly while his other hand stroked my clit.
The dual sensation was overwhelming—pleasure and unfamiliar pressure blending until I couldn't think straight.
"Breathe," he murmured. "Relax for me."
One finger slid inside, paused. Let me adjust. Then began moving, slow and careful, coordinated with the fingers on my clit until I was pushing back against him, panting.
"More?"
I nodded frantically.
A second finger joined the first, stretching. He took his time, patient and thorough, until I was loose and desperate, begging incoherently.
"Please, Ivan, need you..."
He withdrew his fingers, pressed the head of his cock against my entrance—the usual one. Thrust in deep.
The relief was instant and shattering. I screamed into the pillow as he fucked me hard and fast, chasing his own release now, done teasing.
His thumb pressed against my other hole, not entering, just pressure—a promise.
"Next time," he growled. "Next time I'll have you there too. Every part of you, Anna. Mine."
"Yours," I sobbed. "All yours."
"Come for me. Now."
Permission and command—my body obeyed instantly. Orgasm ripped through me, violent and endless, clenching around him as he buried himself deep and followed me over, filling me with heat.
We collapsed together, trembling and gasping.
He stayed inside me, arms wrapped tight around my middle, face pressed to my neck.
"I love you," he whispered against my skin. "My Anna. My everything."
I couldn't speak, could only turn my head enough to kiss him—messy and graceless but full of everything I felt.
When he finally pulled out, he untied my wrists immediately, massaging the reddened skin, pressing kisses to each mark.
He lifted me effortlessly and carried me to the bathroom.
His fingers worked gently over the red marks left behind, lips following. "Does it hurt?"
I shook my head, boneless in his arms.
He held me under the hot spray, hands running over my body, soothing. Then his fingers drifted lower, teasing. "Want more, kitten?"
I squeezed my eyes shut, feigning sleep.
His low chuckle rumbled through his chest. He smacked my ass lightly. "Lazy kitten. Sleep then."
That afternoon, we dozed together, wrapped in each other. Evan played downstairs with the housekeeper, wouldn't disturb us.
Quiet moments like this—intimate and safe—were our refuge from all the danger and darkness that had haunted us.
I pressed my ear to his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, one thought circling through my mind: Let it always be like this. Whatever comes next, at least right now we're together.