Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
Matteo
Anya is convinced that her father doesn’t know what we did in her bedroom, or in the hallway on the way to her bedroom only fourteen hours later. Or the heavy petting we participated in on the couch while watching a movie that I can’t even recall the title of—and that was last night.
We haven’t gone any further than making out, groping each other, and dry humping, but it’s been fucking incredible.
I feel like I’m on top of the world and all I’ve done is jizz in my pants for the past three days.
I haven’t even seen her naked yet—not even a hint of side boob and she has me so consistently turned on, I could be ready for her at any given moment.
As much as I’ve been enjoying her newfound love of pleasure, I’m not so certain that Anton isn’t onto us.
He once told me he knows everything that goes on in his house, and I doubt that was some kind of bluff.
But even if he’d never told me that before, I’d be pretty sure that he knew I was touching Anya in his house given the fact that he avoids eye contact with me far more than normal.
At least he hasn’t tried to punch me in the dick.
We’re eating lunch with him today, sitting at the small table in the corner of their kitchen.
The creamy chicken and dumpling soup is almost gone, most of it being devoured by Anton and I.
Anya has gotten much more comfortable branching out with her menu, but she still doesn’t eat even half of the massive portions I’m used to.
Honestly, I don’t even think I need to eat as much as I do. I just fucking love food.
“So, Papochka,” Anya says sweetly, setting her spoon down beside her empty bowl. “I wanted to ask you something.”
Anton looks up from his lunch, a hint of suspicion in his gaze. He heard the overly sweet tune of his daughter’s voice too.
Still, he replies to her as he normally would. “Yes, dochen’ka?”
“Can Matteo spend the night tonight?”
Hot soup burns the back of my throat as I choke it down, coughing hard as my esophagus screams in protest. I took a bite at the worst possible time, it seems. And accidentally sucked back my mouthful of food in utter shock.
Anya pats my back and I look up to find her wincing. “Are you okay?”
“Am I?” I ask incredulously. “I think I just hallucinated you asking your father if we can have a sleepover.”
“You didn’t hallucinate anything,” Anton mutters darkly.
Fuck, I might have spoken too soon about not being punched in the dick.
“I swear to God, I didn’t know she was going to ask you that,” I vow, crossing my heart. “This was not my idea.”
“Yes, I gathered that when you nearly asphyxiated yourself.” And yet, he’s still glaring at me.
I take a big gulp of water, trying to clear the last of the soreness in the back of my mouth, relishing the way the cool liquid soothes the burn.
Anya takes my hand and gives her father a pleading look. “You know that we love each other, Papochka. I think we should be allowed to share a bed.”
“Oh my, shit,” I curse under my breath, starting to seriously worry for my health if she’s going to keep talking. “At least you let me swallow first that time. Fuck, meraviglia. Are you trying to get me castrated?”
“We’re adults,” Anya defends, lifting her chin.
“Where is this coming from?” I ask, surprised at her firmness as she presents our case to her father. “I mean, I’m not complaining. You know I’ll take every minute of time with you that I can get. But you didn’t mention this before now.”
“I talked to Tiffany about it this morning,” she admits, her confidence unwavering. If she spoke to her therapist about what she wants and it inspired this much confidence in her, I have to trust that she knows what she’s doing.
“I wanted to surprise you by asking,” Anya adds softly.
“I’ve been thinking about this for days, and I couldn’t wait to bring it up any longer.
I want to fall asleep while we’re cuddling and watching a movie on the couch without you having to maneuver me so that you can leave.
I want to hang out with you in my bedroom and not have to kick you out when it gets late.
I don’t want to have to wait for you to come over in the morning, I just want you to be here. ”
I’m about to tell her that of course I want that too, but her father quickly reminds me that he’s sharing the table with us.
Clearing his throat, Anton gets Anya’s attention and she smiles at him. “Are you asking me to allow Matteo to move into the house, for permission for him to sleep over tonight, or for my approval of your bedroom activities?”
Anya blushes but she doesn’t back down, looking at her father with her shoulders straight and her chin held high.
“I want him to sleep over tonight, and we’ll see how it goes.
As for bedroom activities, I want you to not think of them at all.
Matteo is moving at my pace, and if I want that pace to speed up, it will. ”
Anton can’t hide his supreme discomfort at his daughter’s words, but he can’t argue them either. She’s a grown woman, and he can’t stop her from doing anything with her own body. Not when he’s spent so long making sure that she’s the only person who gets to make decisions for it ever again.
“Matteo can stay the night for tonight. We’ll discuss this again in the morning and see where we go from here.”
“Eeee,” Anya jumps up excitedly, rounding the table to hug him tight. “Thank you, Papa.” She smacks a kiss to his cheek and he sighs.
“Give us a minute,” he tells her, nodding to me. “And next time you see her, tell Dr. Tiffany that she’s on my bad side now.”
She giggles at him and rolls her eyes. “I’m sure she’ll be shaking in her boots, Papochka.”
“Uh-huh.”
Coming back to my side, Anya kisses the top of my head before skipping out of the room. She didn’t even warn her father not to hurt me, which means she’s much more confident that he won’t than I am.
Anton spends a good thirty seconds glaring at me before he finally speaks. “If I hear my daughter making any kind of noise in the middle of the night, I’m going to put you through the worst kind of hell in your next mandatory training. You’ll be throwing up blood, Matteo. Blood.”
All Morozov soldiers have periodic training. Not all at once in the same location, but in groups. And since he branded me with his family-specific ink, I’ll be training with him, his brothers, and their top men from now on. I don’t doubt for even a second that they could make me throw up blood.
“I—”
He holds a hand up, silencing me. “I don’t want to fucking know what you do. But you’ll be safe, and you’ll turn on the TV or the goddamn shower for all I care. I love my daughter enough not to murder you, but don’t fucking push me, Moretti.”
“I—” I try again.
“Say ‘yes, Sir’ and then get the fuck out of my face before I lose my lunch.”
Oh, thank God. He’s giving me an out.
“Yes, Sir.”
I’m up and out of the room before he can change his mind. I don’t even bring the rest of my soup. I can get a snack later when he’s nowhere near the kitchen.
Despite the slight chill down my spine from fear of her father, I’m kind of soaring with the realization that I get to share a bed with Anya tonight.
And I know just what I want to do to her hot little body as a thank you.
“Rory texted me this morning,” Anya tells me, popping a chocolate-covered blueberry into her mouth. “She got out of the program today. She’s moving to Washington to live with her cousin.”
Anya has been keeping in contact with her friend since leaving, writing her a couple of letters and sending emails too. She hasn’t spoken about it much with me though, I think more for Rory’s privacy than anything else.
“Yeah?” I ask, picking up a bit of fruit from our shared bowl for myself. “How are you feeling about that? I know you were thinking about meeting up with her in the future.”
Anya looks at me and giggles. “You sound just like Tiffany.”
I laugh at the sound of her amusement and she giggles some more.
We’re in her bedroom instead of the living room, sitting on her bed while Supernatural plays on her flatscreen. Instead of popcorn, Anya wanted a mixture of chocolate-covered bits of frozen fruit. I can’t say that I’m not enjoying the choice.
We decided to spend time in her room rather than downstairs. We’re hoping that staying out of her father’s line of sight will keep him calm. But disappearing into her bedroom for most of the night can’t be helping his blood pressure. Either way, I’m with my girl, so I can’t complain.
“I feel okay about it though, she wants to get out of California, and I never want to leave. We’ll probably keep in touch, but I don’t think she’s my person. I’ll make more friends eventually.”
“Anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend, baby.”
Her smile shines and I swoop in to kiss it.
She sighs happily and pecks me back.
Only a few minutes of watching TV pass until she speaks up again.
“Do you want to see me naked?”
My eyes widen and I almost don’t believe my ears. “Are you trying to make me choke on my tongue today?”
“Well?” she asks, wearing the closest thing to a smirk I’ve ever seen on her lips. “Do you?”
“Of course I do.”
I don’t know what else to say. I think she may have knocked the charm and wit right out of me with one simple question.
“I want to show you myself, and I want you to touch me,” she says, licking her lips to wet them. “I don’t think I want to have sex yet. But I want you to see my scars and my…” Anya trails off like she can’t find the right words.
“Pussy? Ass? Tits?”
Her eyes widen at the crass words but her cheeks flush as well.
“Well, yes.”
“You know, I was already thinking about giving you something for having this brilliant idea and for being so brave in asking for it.” I pick up the bowl of treats in between us and move it to her bedside table. “You being naked for it would only make it better for both of us.”