Epilogue
In which we learn that when you’ve ‘christened’ all the rooms in your house, you have to get creative.
Oksana…
Back in Chicago…
Vadim watches me in amusement as I do an ungainly little hop and skip, charging ahead of him towards the stables.
"I've missed you, baby, so much," I croon to my sweet Zlo, and then to Charon, who's come to accept me as one of the two or three people that he won't bite. "Yes, I brought Daddy home, too," I say, lovingly stroking his neck.
"I am not his daddy," Vadim says. He's leaning against the gate and he's holding a riding crop, tapping it against his boot. The light in the stable shimmers across his blinding blue eyes, and he has that curve, just one tiny curve, at the corner of his mouth.
Gaze darting to the crop, and back up to him, I put my hand on my hip, attempting to look saucy. "Oh, really?" I purr. "Are you my daddy?" I flutter my lashes, and he gives me a grin. Beautiful, and open, and I feel such a surge of happiness that I almost do the ungainly hop-skip thing again.
Putting the crop back on the shelf, he says, "We might use that another day." He swiftly saddles Charon. As I'm picking up Zlo's tack, he stops me. "Will you ride with me?"
Looking down at my sweater and skirt, I shrug.
"Only if it's riding dressage." Sliding deftly into his saddle, Vadim reaches down and scoops his arm around my waist. "Well, then!
" I yelp as he pulls me up abruptly. He settles me across his thighs, making sure the saddle horn isn't digging into my thigh.
"Comfortable?" he asks.
I'm busy snuggling in and enjoying the feel of him. "Very much so," I say, my ass settling against his thigh. I'm always amazed that for a man with a demeanor as chilly as Vadim's, his body can be so blazingly hot.
It's mid-March, and while we'd be waist-deep in snow in Moscow, nearly all of it has melted from the forest trails here. It's still cold enough to not be muddy, which is really the perfect combination.
He keeps a sedate pace at first, then with a glance at me, picks up the speed into a gallop.
I laugh wildly, clinging to him tightly.
With his grip around my waist, I hardly bounce.
The air is sharp with the scent of pine, and the sun is almost blinding.
I remember how passionately he'd talked about horses when we were trapped in those cells, and now feeling his joy, galloping on Charon is almost too much happiness to hold.
Finally slowing back to a trot, we come to a section of trail I haven't seen before. The tall pines and the red cedar trees cluster around a small clearing, and the foliage is so thick overhead that no snow has fallen here.
"Are you cold?" he asks, his hands curving over my hips.
"No, though of course it's possible the weather will change in the next thirty seconds," I say. "This is, after all, Chicago."
"Good," he says this with that dangerous half smile still very much present. "I've missed having you here. It always feels less constricted, doesn't it?"
"I feel it too," I agree, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. "Here- at home, at least - you get to be more of yourself. You don't have to be a Turgenev." I say it in a deep, rumbling voice that earns me a rumble of a chuckle from him.
"Of course, when I fuck you, it's always spectacular wherever we are," he says. I can feel him getting harder against my right butt cheek. I lean back a bit.
"Um, are you thinking about doing it here?" I ask, looking at the frozen ground.
"Oh, I won't be putting you down," he says.
I let out a startled yelp as his hands go to my hips and he pulls me up, swinging my leg over the saddle so I'm straddling him.
Now I can feel the full effect of his swelling cock pushing against his jeans.
My skirt is awkwardly hiked up, my legs dangling, but I instantly forget how I look when he rolls my hips hard against his crotch.
A long, slow move that makes my hands tighten on his shoulders.
"I don't know how you're going to pull this off. I mean…" My concerns don't seem as important as he kisses down my neck.
"We've christened every inch of the house," he says. "Both here and in Moscow. So, it's time for some creative thinking."
I giggle like a schoolgirl, high, and maybe a bit apprehensive as I realize his intentions. He pulls my skirt up and slides his big, warm hand against the lace of my underwear, rubbing against my clitoris.
"You're so wet, my darling," he breathes in my ear. "Already rubbing against me."
"Because I'm always wet when I'm around you," I moan, my forehead dropping to his shoulder. "You know this. I have no guile."
"And I love that about you," he says, his voice deep and rumbling through me.
"You'll behave like a proper Bratva princess for everyone else, but for me…
" The heel of his hand pushes roughly against my clitoris and I let out a shrill little noise.
"For me, you're just a greedy girl who needs to get fucked, aren't you? "
"I love it when you do the dirty talk," I say blissfully. The friction of the lace between my swelling center and his hand is rough, then two of his fingers go inside me. I moan, thighs tense against his.
"Relax. Let me in," he whispers so persuasively, my Hades inviting me to the Underworld. I'm so close to coming, the dull ache in my center growing sharper, more demanding and I know he can feel my pussy pulse around his fingers.
"Just like this," I moan, my back arching, muscles so tight and needy. And then… his hand pulls away from me. My eyes fly open. "Why?" I say in a tone unattractively close to a whine.
"I want you to come when I'm inside you," he says. His voice is a bit hoarse and I'm unreasonably pleased that this is affecting him, too. "Lift up a bit," he says. I do, my eyes widening as he yanks open the fly of his jeans and pulls himself out.
"No shrinkage from the cold?" I ask, batting my eyelashes again.
Vadim laughs harshly, pushing his fingers, wet from being inside me, into my mouth, curling them to pull me closer for another dirty kiss. "I'm always hard around you," he says. "Fuck the weather."
"No," I say, a little breathlessly and still not sure how we're going to pull this off. "I'd rather fuck you."
Oh, that did it.
Lifting me up by my hips, he orders, "Put me in."
He's thick and hard as granite, throbbing against my palm.
The chilly air turns our breath into a cloud of frost, but his cock is blazingly hot.
Slipping the broad head just inside me, I try to keep my eyes on his as he slowly pulls me down, but it's too much; my head drops back bonelessly because I can feel each of his piercings push against my excruciatingly sensitive channel.
It's such a shock. Always. It's so good.
He lets me settle against him; clit pressed hard against the base of his cock. And then, he clicks his tongue, holding the reins.
"You are not -" My alarmed question is cut off as a startled scream escapes me. Charon starts trotting, not galloping, thank god, just trotting. But bouncing up and down is something that I can't control because my feet aren't in the stirrups. It's sending me up and down on Vadim's cock.
I never, ever would have thought of this…
Oh, he's clicking his tongue again? Oh, no, no, no, no… My fingernails dig into his neck. "No faster," I scream, "not any faster!"
Charon is well trained, and picks up the pace.
Not a full gallop yet - thank you, god - though it increases the speed of the motion and I ride his cock the way he's riding his horse.
The movement is overwhelming, the speed, the feel of his muscles against mine.
His cock is driving in and out of me and it's too much. It's not enough.
We're back on the forest trail, and I'm praying to all the minor Russian deities that no one has seen us, because I know I'm being loud. I'm moaning, I keep calling out his name, and perhaps several compliments about the size of his cock.
"I like you this way," he says, pleased. "Loud and greedy. Unashamed about taking what you want." He bites my neck, it's not a soft one. "Just like that, moy svet. So good for me."
We're approaching a curve in the trail that I recognize. Once we turn right, we're heading back to the stables.
We will be visible to anyone there!
My entire body tenses, and he lets out a groan as I squeeze down on his cock. "Wait! Vadim, we're really close!"
"We are," he says. His voice is more of a rasp now, eyes glittering at me.
"You better hurry and come. Come hard. The turn is very close.
" His hand goes to the small of my back, and he pushes roughly, making my clit grind down on the hairy base of his cock, and his piercings push aggressively against the front of my channel.
I lose it.
Screaming, wiggling closer or away from his cock, I'm not sure. I have never come so loudly, and I'm not embarrassed. I'm completely unaware of anything but the cycling heat inside me, my bones turned to liquid. Everything's soft and wet, except for the heat and the hardness of him.
Vadim grits his teeth then shouts, "Fuuuck!" before I feel him spurt inside me until both of us are wet. My thighs, his jeans.
Still in the shelter of the trees, he stops and gently lifts me, turning me sideways again.
My undies are hanging on by one leg, he ripped them at some point.
He pulls them off, tucking them in his pocket, then I have to help him, sitting up enough to tuck his cock inside his jeans and button them.
We stay a moment longer, me slumping against my beautiful husband and him trying to catch his breath.
We're flushed, smiling at each other as if we have a secret that no one could possibly guess. Though I suspect the minute they look at us, it would be obvious. We try to tidy each other up as best we can, before riding sedately back to the stables.
Tomas is tossing hay into the corral, and he waves his gloved hand at us with a grin. "Hello! How was your ride?"
He suddenly seems to get it, coughing and turning away, busy with his pitchfork. As we ride by though, I see a hint of a smile on his face.
"Hello, Tomas," Vadim calls.
Clearing his throat, Tomas keeps his eyes on the hay he's spreading as he calls back, "Hello, Turgenevs."
"I think we've traumatized poor Tomas," I say, lazily toasting my feet by the fireplace in our master suite. I'm snuggling in one of the soft blankets off the bed and Vadim is wrapped around me, long arms and legs holding me close.
"He'll survive," he says dryly.
"I was thinking," I say, sitting up a bit so I can look at his beautiful face in the firelight. "Of all the times you've saved me. The kidnapping." He nods, though his face darkens. It's still hard for him to remember that time and what I went through. "Then, Yefim." I shudder.
"I should have taken longer with him," he says regretfully. "Much longer."
"The Rossi's," I add. "You did take a long time with them."
"That's true," he says, his expression clearing.
"Finally, from the Black Kynigós hunters," I finish. "Aren't you getting tired of rescuing me from one dire situation to another?"
"Well, it is a great deal of work," he allows, a tiny smile hovering on his lips.
"I need to do something magnificent for you," I say, putting my head down on his shoulder. "A marriage can't be all one-sided."
"My love, you saved me. Twice," he says. "You kept me going that night in Grishchenkov's dungeon. I was weaker than I wanted to admit to myself. Your voice was my lifeline."
"You never told me that!" I say. "It's horrible to think of how much you suffered."
"Then," he continues, moving past the kidnapping, "you saved me now, by marrying me.
I was growing colder and harsher every year.
I couldn't stand for anyone to touch me.
I only endured it for Mother's sake; it would have broken her heart if I’d pushed her away.
There was nothing left in me but my duty.
The only time I came alive was when I was taking someone else's. "
He tilts my head up, looking at me with an aching tenderness. "We saved each other."
"I believe with all my heart that it was worth everything I went through back then," I say, my voice wavering. "Because it brought you to me."
He gives me a kiss. A sweet, leisurely kiss as the press of lips and the sharing of breath consumes us.
When he finally pulls away, I smile happily. "I just realized something."
"Oh?"
"Look at our lives, we're a mess!" I point out. "The chances of having to rescue each other again are highly likely. So maybe I can even up the scoreboard."
"Iisus Khristos! Never fucking again, do you hear me?" Vadim looks completely horrified.
"Sorry." I drop a kiss on his cheek. "For tonight, at least, no one is trying to kill us. So, we can just sit here and enjoy the fire."
He shakes his head, kissing me with a rumbling chuckle. "We can do that."