Epilogue 1
Daisy
The sun was shining for the first time in weeks, hitting me straight in the face as I pressed the tip of my nose against the cool glass in the back of the elegant wedding car.
My wedding car.
It still hadn’t sunk in. I was marrying Ilya Popovitch. It still felt like it was a dream that he had even asked me to begin with, and anytime I looked down at the priceless ring on my finger and remembered he had bought this for me years ago, my heart would swell and my eyes would fill with tears.
Ilya loved me. He had always loved me, and he wanted me to be his wife. Little old me, who had gone to him six years ago as a clueless, penniless virgin. I don’t know what I had done to make him fall in love with me, but I finally knew he did.
He showed and told me every single day.
Which was probably why we were getting married today. Exactly seventeen days after I had been rescued. Ilya hadn’t wanted to wait, and honestly, I didn’t want to either. We had already wasted so much time.
The car slowed, and my breath caught in my lungs as I lifted my eyes to the church we would be saying our vows in.
That’s when it hit me.
This was really happening. Within the next hour, I was going to be Ilya's wife. My heart thundered in my chest.
"Mrs. Popovitch?"
It was only then that I realized that the door had opened and a man was leaning down, hand extended. Taking a deep breath, I took it. The simple but gorgeous white gown fluttered around my feet as I stood.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"You’re very welcome, Mrs. Popovitch," he said tightly, even though I wasn’t technically Mrs. anyone right now.
"And can I just apologize for," the sound of him swallowing was loud, "for how I treated you before."
I stared up at him, recognizing him as the man who had carried me from the trunk of Ilya's car and back into his apartment. The same one who had been cruel.
I had every reason to hate this man, but I didn’t. I was too happy to hate anyone.
"It’s fine. There’s nothing to forgive," I promised. "You were protecting Ilya and Alec. I get that."
He nodded once, tucking my hand into the crook of his arm. "Then let me deliver you to your husband."
I nodded silently. Nerves made my legs shake as we walked up the wide stone steps and slipped into the cool confines of the church.
What if Ilya wasn’t here waiting for me? What if he had changed his mind?
Ilya turned the second the door opened. Looking as handsome as any model in his tuxedo. Next to him, Alec beamed at me. A little mini version of his father.
Any nerves I had been feeling evaporated the second I saw his smiling face.
Sliding my hand out of the man’s, I rushed forward. It wasn’t traditional to go barging down the aisle, but nothing Ilya and I did was ever traditional.
My father was dead. I had no one to walk me down and give me away.
The moment I started rushing forward, Ilya was moving to meet me. We came together in the middle. His arms went fully around me, and his lips smashed down like he couldn’t wait until we said our vows to kiss me.
And that was fine. I wanted to kiss him too. Forever.
At the altar, the priest cleared his throat, and it was only then that I realized that Ilya had ducked me backwards, one leg had lifted over his hips, and his tongue plundered my mouth. Like he owned me.
He did own me.
We came apart guiltily; a blush crept up my cheeks as we straightened. "I think we may be jumping the gun," I whispered, ducking my head to hide my crimson cheeks. "I think the kiss is meant to come at the end."
Ilya chuckled. "Yeah." Lifting my knuckles, he kissed the back of my hand. "Want to get married?"
"Yeah, I guess so," I teased, looking him dead in the face.
"You guess so?" Ilya's eyebrows shot up.
"You're the mother of my son, of my unborn baby.
You will marry me." His head descended again, catching my lips between his teeth.
"Or I’ll just keep filling you up with babies until you do.
" His eyes sparkled. "Or kidnap you and keep you chained to my bed and then fill you up with babies. I know you don’t mind being tied up. "
I blushed scarlet at the reminder of what we had done last night.
"But," Ilya dropped his voice to a whisper meant only for me, "I want you to be my wife the next time I make you cum."
"Ilya," I whispered. Only he would say such things in a house of God. He really had no shame. "Best marry me quick then."
For a second, his eyes flashed. "As quickly as I can, because I can’t wait a second longer. I want you, Daisy Popovitch, and if I don’t get you soon, then I’ll take you on the altar, in front of everyone."
Two hours later, we were wed. Alec was with his nanny, a woman Ilya trusted and I liked, and I was standing in a lavish hotel room in front of my new husband in my satin wedding dress.
"You look nervous." Ever at ease, Ilya prowled around me. His hands tracing the air above my curves.
I watched him silently. Truthfully, I was nervous. Which was strange because this wouldn’t be the first time, or even the millionth time, we had been together.
I hadn’t been this nervous since I had climbed up the stairs and been given to him for the first time. I was no longer that naive virgin girl, and Ilya was no longer the cold monster he had been back then, but I was still nervous anyway.
"A little," I admitted in a whisper.
Finally, his hand closed the distance between us; coming to a stop on my hip, he stepped into my space, tilting my chin up.
"Thank you."
Of all the things he could have said, I didn’t expect that.
"Thank you for coming into my life," he whispered, his mouth sipping at mine tenderly. "Thank you for giving me a family and showing me what love is."
The tip of his tongue swiped against my bottom lip, and I opened my mouth to him with a contented sigh.
"Thank you for loving me enough to give me a second chance and making me the happiest man in the world."
His tongue was in my mouth then, and there was no time for speaking. And really, we didn’t need words. Because our bodies spoke for us.
I melded into him, back arched so he could deepen the kiss even more.
"I love you so damn much." Dropping his lips from mine, he traced across my trembling jaw. Slowly sliding the straps of my dress over my shoulders so the white satin slithered into a pool at my feet.
It was only then that he tore his mouth away from mine and retreated just enough to look at me standing in front of him, wearing nothing but a simple pair of panties and my heels.
"You’re so beautiful," he whispered, hand outstretched so he could circle my hardening nipple with his fingertips. "So perfect. I can’t wait to make this body mine forever."
"You won’t be saying that when my stomach is all fat and round and—"
He pinched my nipple hard, causing me to cut off my teasing with a startled cry.
"You are perfection. Whether you are like this or swollen with my child. Do you know how fucking hot I find you?" he asked in a husky voice.
I stared at him for a second, any nerves completely gone. "Show me," I whispered. "Make me yours."
He was on me in a second. His mouth demanding complete and utter surrender. His hands cupped my breasts, already heavy from the life I was growing inside of me.
We came together hard, stumbling backwards to fall onto the massive four-poster bed.
My legs were heaved upwards, over his hips, so I wrapped them around his waist, lifting my ass to meet his almost desperate movements into my body.
"Too many fucking clothes." He tore his lips away from mine, heaving himself upwards. "I think I’ll have to make a rule where you’re not allowed clothes on if we are alone.
" He chuckled, sliding my cream thong down my legs.
Bringing the scrap of material to his nose, he inhaled sharply.
His eyes glued to my body. And everywhere he looked, it felt like his hands were caressing me.
I trembled, biting my lip as his eyes finally came to rest on the slight swell of my stomach.
"I’m going to put a baby in your belly," he stated firmly, his hand going to his belt.
"You already did," I reminded him with a low giggle. I liked this side of him. No, that wasn’t right. I loved it.
"Hmm." Stepping out of his trousers and underwear, he tore the shirt from his body, standing there at the foot of the bed for a second so I could look up into the chiseled perfection that was Ilya Popovitch, my husband.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I reached for him, my hands desperate, and pulled him down on top of me, wrapping my legs around his waist so he couldn’t get away.
"I need you," I whispered, nipping at his ear. "I need you inside of me right now."
Ilya didn’t need telling twice. Reaching between us, he coated the thick head of his cock with the wetness already leaking from my body and plunged into me in two easy strokes.
I groaned at the sudden intrusion, at the delicious stretch and feeling of fullness.
Ilya groaned in return.
"I love you," I whispered, wrapping my arms and legs around him as he began to move. Slowly at first, and then harder and faster. Like he was moving in time with the rhythm of my breathing.
It didn’t take long for either of us, and that was okay because we had the rest of our lives to take our time.
Back arching, I lifted my ass off the mattress. Urging him to fuck me harder, to fuck me deeper. To give me more.
My body clamped around him, a scream tearing its way out of my throat as I toppled over the edge and into paradise.
Ilya fell with me, groaning my name into the crook of my neck as he throbbed and spilled his seed inside of me.
Panting, he fell on top of me, his hands brushing back the hair from my sweaty face.
"I want this every day for the rest of our lives," he whispered, finally slipping from me and shifting us out of the wet patch I was lying in. "I want you this wet every single minute. I love you, Daisy Popovitch."
Grumbling, I came awake, shifting away from the puddle of wet sheets under my ass. Had I fallen asleep and rolled back into it? Or was—
The pain was red hot, a sharp but at the same time dull agony that ripped me away from my dreams of our wedding day and night and back into reality.
This wasn’t our wedding night. We were in our penthouse, in the bed we had shared every night since we had gotten married, and—
The wave of pain came again. Screwing up my face, I clutched at my stomach.
And I was in labor.
That’s why the sheets were wet; my waters had broken. The pains I was feeling were contractions.
I waited until the pain had passed before I reached for Ilya, sliding my fingers across the naked muscles of his shoulders.
He jolted awake in a second. Eyes wide and alert.
"What?" He searched my face, taking in my pained expression. "What’s wrong? Daisy, what’s wrong?" Heaving himself up onto his elbow, he reached for me. "Tell me what’s wrong."
Panic made his voice frantic.
"It’s time," I whispered.
"Time?" For a second, he looked confused.
"Yes, Ilya. Our baby is coming."