Chapter 62 Gabi
GABI
I stare up at my husband where he’s pulled from my mouth, and already, my lips want to close over him again.
That felt so good, the rhythm he guided me to, the feeling of him filling me up and his salty essence dripping onto my tongue.
Licking his cum in the shower was only the precursor to this, and I want so much more.
I want to drive him wild and over the edge, but there’s time for that.
I never thought it could arouse me like this, but I’m already swollen and wet with need, my body seeking friction. I bet if he touched me now, we could start with the countdown to ‘yellow’ and see how far we get. I slide my hands up his thighs and chest as he helps me stand.
“So fucking beautiful, moya ptichka…but I need to fuck you. Desperately.”
“I need to be fucked…desperately.”
He smiles as we tumble onto the bed and come to rest on our sides, facing each other.
He caresses his hand over my hip and nudges my thigh to rest on his.
Like this, his cock is right there, knocking for entry.
He cups my head to hold me close and kisses me slowly as he rocks into my slick sex, the motion only teasing my clit, hitting my piercing at the perfect angle.
“Oh, my…” I murmur between kisses, leaning into him, our bodies flush, hungry for all of it.
There seems to have been a glacier of indoctrination inside me, religious firewalls built in to block me from enjoying my body for years, sealed in with what Randazzo had done to me, but now, an avalanche is tearing down that valley, destroying every fucked-up belief in my mind. “I want you to fuck me, please, Ivan—”
“I want to go slow with you, Gabi. Let’s not rush this.”
“How much time do we have?” I ask, thinking about the girls and his work.
“Yuri is with the girls. We have the whole day, moya ptichka.”
“Excellent. Working up to ‘yellow’ is going to take time.”
He laughs into my mouth, and with a firm hand, presses me down on the mattress as he shifts into the welcoming cradle of my legs. “Yellow, hey? Can’t wait to have you begging…”
“If you hadn’t noticed, I’m begging already—” I break off to snatch in a breath as he sucks my nipple into his mouth, the sharp spear of arousal shooting straight to my clit. “Ivan—” Breathe, Gabriella, just breathe. “Oh my God.”
He is licking his way straight to my pussy, no detours, spreading me open with his fingers, and with a slow, circular lick around my sex, sends me scrambling for composure, for breath as everything intensifies in this moment when it’s just him, me, and time standing still in a capsule of lust.
When he rucks me up, splayed open and with his hands supporting me, I let go of every last inhibition.
He starts to lick in a steady rhythm, the flat of his tongue pressing on my clit, igniting every nerve held hostage by my piercing.
He toys with it, sucking, tugging, licking, and I press both my fists to my mouth, biting down on my knuckles, as the need to climax fires up like a whole arsenal in me.
Sweet release comes crashing in like waves, and I’m screaming into my hands, but it comes out like sobs as my body quivers.
Then he’s there, pulling my hands from my face and kissing my tears.
I trap him with my legs, his cock a ridge between us, and I grind against him, somehow still coming, wanting more.
He reaches down and guides himself into me, and I open my eyes, staring straight into his stark blue ones.
First, there’s pressure, then there’s pain, but I’m slick with arousal, my orgasm having barely abated. He goes slowly, not even an inch at a time, staring into my eyes as his cock stretches my pussy to accommodate him.
“You’re doing so well, moya ptichka, taking me…this is so perfect,” he whispers between kissing me. “And you’re so fucking tight,” he grunts. “Does it hurt too much?”
“No, the pain…it honestly feels so good…” So good to finally be free, because whatever happens to me in the future, that old Russian will never be my first.
He groans as he finally thrusts in all the way, then pulls out, drives back in again, and we both suck in our breaths in unison. Then his hand is on my knee, pulling my bent leg up and opening me even wider. “Fuck, Gabriella, let me make you come like this.”
“Please do.”
“Can you?”
“Is that even a question?” The piercing, the way he grinds against me…I’ve been pierced for exactly this as the combination of pressure, the rhythm and him, on top of me like this, has me building up to breaking point again.
“Now that sounds like an order I’m happy to oblige.
” He perches on one hand, his other still pressing down on my knee, but like this, his weight is lifted from my stomach and now homed in on my mound, on my clit…
on my piercing, and then he starts to grind into me, slower, determined thrusts that hit my g-spot every time he pushes in.
I gasp. The feeling is so intense, so divine, and as he stares into my eyes, I see how his eyes glaze over, how he gets there within minutes.
“You feel this?” he grunts. “Feel how fucking hard I am for you?”
“Yes,” I breathe, and it’s intoxicating.
“Come with me, moya ptichka,” he orders as he slips a finger between us, that little extra toppling me over the edge.
He drops his head back with a soulful groan as he starts to come, sending ripples up my pussy to where my own release grips his in deep, heavenly pulses.
It hits me that ever since I’ve escaped the convent, I’ve redefined a lot of things. Good and evil, right and wrong, and now this—something from the Devil can’t feel good like this. No, this is the closest to Heaven we can get while stuck down here.
When Ivan lowers his head to mine, there’s a sheen of sweat over his skin, and we kiss, my pulse still wild but somehow, I’m drunk on a high I’ve never experienced before.
All natural, a built-in drug for us to seek out together.
I’ve never felt closer to another human before, and somewhere in me, I’m filling up with feelings for my husband, for this man who seems to heal things in me I didn’t know were broken.
“Sshhh, moya ptichka,” he murmurs, and it’s only then I realize I’m crying, quietly, tears running from my eyes over my temples to disappear into the pillow. “It’s okay, baby girl,” he whispers as he kisses my tears away. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I know this isn’t easy.”
“You didn’t. Not more than I expected.” God knows this is the easiest thing I’ve done in ages.
And these are tears of joy, of relief to awaken to something so human despite everything I’ve witnessed growing up…
making love with my husband is the most natural thing for me. He is interpreting my tears all wrong.
“Ivan—”
“Sshhh, Gabriella. It will get better, easier.” He drops his forehead to mine. “I need two sons, moya ptichka. Just two. Deliver those, and then I’ll open the cage and set you free.”
My heart pounds in my throat, but my tears stop in seconds.
His words come as a shock, reminding me I’m just a pawn in all of this.
A business deal. And for Ivan, I’m still only that, whereas for me, in this profound moment of intimacy, I’ve somehow crossed over a deep chasm—the one separating infatuation from love.
I don’t know how I did it, how I got to the other side, and now there’s no going back.
“Okay,” I breathe, wiping at my cheek. I want to roll away from him, but he keeps me trapped with his weight, his cock still in me.
He caresses my temple with his lips, the tip of his nose, and inhales deeply and sighs. “I nearly forgot that I have serious calls to make,” he says. “Stay here for a while. Give my poor sperm a swimming chance.”
I break out in a chuckle to mask every unwanted emotion flooding my being and try to find the same light tone we had earlier, when we negotiated this little part of the marriage contract. “I’m going to get bored just lying here.”
“And what do you do when you get bored?” he whispers with a small smile by my ear.
“Well…I might have to have another shower, and we’ll end up right here again.”
He laughs as he pulls from me, leaving me feeling hollowed out and empty.
“Perfect. I can’t wait.”
He reaches for a pillow, nudges my hip, and somehow, I know just what he wants. I push my hips up, and he scoots the pillow under my butt, propping me up so his precious sperm have an easier time of swimming around down there and finding the one little treasure they’re all chasing after.
“Good girl,” he whispers with a wink then gets off the bed.
I watch as he disappears into the bathroom and comes back with a towel around his hips.
“I’ll give you space. I’ll shower next door.” He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips, and with a last squeeze to my hip, walks out.
The warmth in the room seems to leave with him, and I curl up, biting my lip to stop a sob from ripping through me. This man knows just how to break my heart.