Epilogue
In which there is Ceremonial Bread and Caroline riding her husband like a cowgirl. And because we must, there is cake.
Caroline…
"Aside from the bee thing, I think this wedding turned out beautifully," Liria said, a little tipsy because the twins are getting bottle-fed tonight and she can have all the cocktails she wants.
"It wasn't the perfect ceremony that I'd pictured," I admit, "but it was beautiful.
" We're on the roof of our penthouse, guests congregating in the garden and around the pool.
The twinkle lights blazing and long rows of tables groaning under the weight of Zakuski, savory little pastries, yet another caviar bar because these people can't live without their fish eggs, Blini and smoked salmon and at least a dozen dishes that I'm a little too dazed to recall.
The wedding cake is, of course, coated in a layer of marzipan.
"It's fascinating to watch our Russian guests mingle with the American ones." I take another sip of champagne as Liria hums in agreement.
Dariy Agapov gallops up to me, a huge grin on his face. "A pleasure to see you, Caroline Morozova! Sovet da lyubov', may you live in love and agreement."
"Thank you, Dariy Agapov, I'm honored." I know that if I even allow a handshake, Nikandr will come storming across the room.
He was very much against Dariy coming at all, but I insisted on it.
After all, he's the reason we got married, if you think about it.
One of the Bratva's key party drug importers strolls by, her red dress almost the same shade of her flaming red hair.
"Goodnight, Caroline Morozova, Liria Morozova!" And he's off. I'm not sure who I should be concerned about, that redhead, or Dariy. She looks dangerous.
Yuri and Tania guide us over to a little table holding a special round, decorated bread called a Korovai.
"The bread is meant to symbolize life and hospitality," Tania explains.
"And the salt has historically been considered a luxury item, indicating prosperity for the new couple.
" She squeezes my hand and whispers, "We're truly happy that you are our daughter.
" I pull out my special wedding handkerchief and dab my eyes before I descend into a hideous, raccoon-like state.
Following Nikandr's lead, I break off a piece, dip it in salt, and I feed it to him.
He closes his mouth around my fingertips, damn him, and I feel his tongue flutter along my skin.
As if my body no longer waits for me to decide anything, I'm instantly wet.
Achingly wet, from his talented tongue and diabolical smile.
As everyone heads to the dance floor or into secluded corners to talk business, I grab his hand and pull, walking swiftly into the penthouse before anyone can pin us down.
"Why, Plokhoy kot, my bad cat, where can you be taking me in such a rush?"
"Do not mess with me, Mr. Morozov!" I move faster and I hear him trying to smother his laughter.
The instant I pull him through our bedroom door, Nikandr slams it shut and presses me against it. "I want my present," I whisper, giving his neck a little bite.
His giant hands slide over my ass, squeezing hard. "What would you like?"
Unbuttoning his tuxedo shirt, I spread it out, admiring his gorgeous chest. There's a little cat there, orange/red and so lifelike.
Caroline is tattooed inside the snarly, yowling cat, half a dozen times before the artist ran out of room.
Kissing it, I pull his shirt out of his waistband, fastening my lips around his nipple, sucking hard and loving his tortured groan.
"I wish I could rip this dress off you, pretty as it is." He runs his tongue down my neck. "What do you want for your present?"
"For starters, I want to suck you." His eyes darken, almost back. "Then, I would like you to lick me."
"These things are both possible." My husband kisses me before biting the spot where my shoulder meets my neck. He's not gentle.
"Lastly, I want us to come while I'm riding you in my wedding dress." His expression is positively feral.
"Fuck yes!" His hands go to my hips and he throws me on the bed, the silk of my dress flying everywhere.
Before I can blink, he's pulling my undies off and flipping back my skirt over my waist. "I would like to ask for one change in the order of this gift.
" He's staring at my center, already wet, I know, stroking his rough hands against my thighs.
"Oh?" I can't stop staring at his gorgeous, intent face.
"I need to lick you first." His thumb brushes over my wet center, spreading my lips. "If you put that hot little mouth on me, I'm going to embarrass myself."
Pretending to think about it for like, two seconds, I nod graciously.
He's on me, his long tongue dragging through my pussy, his fingers spreading me open.
Touching a wet finger to his tongue, Nik groans.
"Nothing could ever taste this sweet." Pushing his finger in my mouth, he orders, "Lick it clean. "
I'm going to die before I get to ride his dick.
That magical tongue is curling around my clitoris before he sucks it into his mouth.
Hard. My back arches off the bed and I moan, despite my vow to somehow stay quiet.
It's violent and messy, the way his lips are pulling on my clit, tickling with his tongue, and when he shoves two fingers inside me, I wail, the heat and pressure of his mouth, his sure fingers fucking me.
It's like fire and it can't stay inside me anymore.
Pushing my hips up against his mouth, I feel him hum approvingly, the vibrations are too much.
I can't- I come so hard that I feel the slick gush from me and my husband chuckles, chasing every drop with his tongue.
Lying there panting, I watch him yank down his zipper, stepping out of his pants and boxer briefs.
"You're huge tonight," I sigh gloatingly.
Greedy for him. There's no looking away from his enormous cock, thick and hard and I open my mouth.
Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he chuckles darkly.
"I'm going to fuck your throat, baby. Open wider.
" He pulls me roughly to the edge of the bed and I slide off the mattress, onto my knees.
The hot texture of him. My tongue traces along the veins pulsing in his shaft, he allows it for a moment before his hips snap forward and he's past the back of my mouth and he's shoving down my throat.
"Breathe through your nose," he reminds me and I tilt my head back, drawing in breath as he drives himself between my lips with a guttural sound of satisfaction.
My throat isn't supposed to spread this wide.
I'm pretty sure, but he's hot and a little bit salty, the silky tip of his cock stroking against my tongue on each pass.
My eyes are streaming but who cares about my makeup?
I've got spit rolling down my chin and when I swallow hard against him, he growls.
"Plokhoy kot, are you trying to make me come? We only have time for one round and I need to see you bouncing on my cock." We both groan as he pulls his cock from my mouth and he pounces on me, kissing my mouth. It tastes like him and me and I sink my teeth into his lower lip, just a bit too hard.
"That's it." Nikandr slaps my ass and lifts me up like I'm no heavier than his tuxedo jacket.
I pull up all the voluminous layers of this dress and rock against him.
"You dirty, delicious girl." His teeth are gritted.
"Ride me, take what you need." There's another feral smile.
"And then I'm going to take what I want. "
I'm so desperate for him that I'm awkward, but between his hand and mine, we put the silky tip of his cock just inside me and I grin.
Pushing myself down his shaft hurts. We usually work up to this but not tonight.
I'm bouncing madly and he pulls up my dress to watch.
"I'm splitting you wide open, you're so fucking tight -" He throws his head back. "How do I fit in this tiny cunt?"
Dimly, I'm aware that he's talking but all I hear is the slap of wet skin against skin, his groans when I bear down on him and my mindless panting.
"Who are you fucking, Caroline?" His thumb is on my clit, staying with me even as I'm bouncing up and down on him. His fingers tighten against my slippery clit and I yelp. "Who are you fucking?"
Circling my hips, I squeeze him tight inside me.
"My gorgeous, evil, dirty as fuck husband.
" A shudder runs through him. "Nikandr Morozov, the Sovietnik.
" I put a gleeful emphasis on the 'k' as usual and he roars, his hips thrusting up and down.
He's doing all the work and I'm hanging on for the ride.
It's always different, with him. Sometimes I come in a shower of sparks, feeling it over every inch of my skin.
Or, it feels like my lower half just detonated.
Now, my orgasm comes surging through me, inexorable, like the tide.
I scream. Like a banshee, like the most depraved kind of woman with a hundred guests outside and I'm praying our bedroom window isn't open.
Waves of silk fly up as Nikandr flips us, pulling one of my legs over his elbow to open me and fucks me fiercely.
I'm laughing mindlessly, my hands trying to get a grip on his sweaty shoulder and slipping.
He's driving his cock into me and runs his finger though my slick and then strokes his fingertip against my ass, pushing in slowly.
"Moya gryaznaya, chumazaya, prekrasnaya devochka, my dirty, filthy, beautiful girl, you have to loosen up. Relax."
"I can't," I wheeze. "I'm so full." His thrusts start up again, his finger sliding in and out of my ass and I can't breathe, like my lungs have been pushed aside.
When he swells even more, Nik puts his hand over my mouth, knowing I'm going to scream.
The sheets are wet from us and my hands are shaking but when he comes, I come again with him, sobbing, scratching, wondering how this could be my life.
"I'm going to have to put on another dress." I'm eyeing the mess we've made of all those yards of wet silk.
"Agreed." My husband kisses my sore lips.
"No one gets to see how wet and sweet you are but me.
" Helping me into a simple white dress that will fool no one, he kisses the back of my neck.
"Could you go into my top drawer and pick out a pair of cuff links?
I think the ones I wore for our wedding went flying when I took my shirt off and I'm not in the mood to look for them. "
I'm paying more attention to my husband's sublime ass than I am to which drawer I open, so picking the wrong one is unsurprising.
Opening the drawer, I'm confused by all the little items in a velvet-lined box.
There's one of my earrings that I'd thought was missing.
A perfect print of my lips on a tissue that I use to blot my lipstick in the morning.
A scrap of blue silk from a dress I'd torn.
A shot glass I'd used during one of the inevitable vodka toasts.
A perfectly dried rose sits at the bottom.
I touch it gently, remembering that night and how I'd held it, wishing for a marriage that came with a happily ever after.
"You found my box." Nikandr's leaning against the doorway. His smile is soft and slightly embarrassed.
"You've been collecting bits and pieces of me?"
Putting my hand to my heart, I blink back tears for the fiftieth time tonight.
"I needed them." He picks up a little card I sent out for the first big party we threw at the Lyric. "Even before I understood that I loved you, I needed something of yours with me."
I put my hand over my mouth, picking up one of those silly little umbrellas the bartender puts in the fruity drinks. I'd spun it between my fingers all night. I saw him take it from the table, but I didn't think anything of it. "Do you have something now?" I sniffle.
With a sly smile, he pulls one of my handkerchiefs from his pocket.
"This is the most… wildly romantic thing I've ever seen."
"Hey, Nikandr and Caroline." There's a round of heavy knocking on the bedroom door. "I don't want to know what you've been doing," Alexsey says. "But your guests really want that wedding cake, so can you please get your asses out there?"
My husband looks at me with a frown. "We're sharing the cake? When did I agree to that?"
Taking his arm, we walk decorously down the stairs. "Honey, you didn't think I planned for this emotional separation of you and your cake?" I whisper in his ear, "There's two more layers of marzipan deliciousness waiting just for you in the pantry fridge."
Nikandr sweeps me off my feet like in the movies. "Have I mentioned how much I love you?"
Burying my face in his collar, I whisper. "Yeah, I can feel how much you love me, given the baseball bat-sized lump pressing against my hip. You might need to stand behind me for a while."
He roars with laughter and kisses me again before setting me back on my feet as we prepare to head back outside. "I will follow you anywhere, sweet wife." Then he has the audacity to push his erection against my back.
This reception might be ending soon.