EPILOGUE ANDIE
“Okay, I can do this,” I mutter to myself, as I look up at the steps leading to the private jet sitting before me. I cup a hand around my belly, which is protruding beneath the pair of maternity leggings I have on, and grip tight to the railing as I make my way up the steps.
“I’m right behind you,” Nikolai tells me, his hand on the small of my back, as though he’s fearful I might go tipping over at any moment.
I almost want to tell him off, remind him that I’m capable of taking care of myself, but I’m certain he wouldn’t listen anyway. Ever since I started showing a couple of months ago, he has been all over me, taking care of every little detail to make sure there’s nothing I have to manage on my own.
I reach the top of the steps and catch my breath, and turn to see Nikolai behind me, his brow slightly furrowed.
“Are you sure you should be flying in your state?” he murmurs, glancing downward.
I laugh. “Niko, we already went over this with the doctor,” I remind him. “I’m fine to fly. And besides, it’s a private jet. Not like I’m exactly going to be traveling with anyone other than you, right?”
“I suppose,” he replies, and I smile at the attendant on the door.
It takes me a moment to recognize her, but then I realize that she’s the same one who tended to me on the day of the wedding, who sped off to get me new clothes before I flew out to Russia for the first time.
She beams back at me, and I wonder if she’s surprised to see that we’re still together.
I doubt that we were exactly the picture of a happy couple on that trip, but that was months ago now.
A different lifetime, it feels like, compared to where I am now.
She leads us to the cabin, where a leather seat has been specially modified to allow for my baby bump to fit under the seat belt.
Nikolai offers me an arm to help me settle, and I sink down in relief, glad to take the weight off my feet.
Doesn’t matter how many times I try to break in shoes before I go anywhere, I always find myself with aching feet within about ten minutes of leaving the house, or at least, that’s what it feels like.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” the attendant asks.
“Let’s skip the champagne this time,” I joke. “How about a sparkling water?”
“The same for me, thanks,” Nikolai adds.
She bows her head. “Coming right up.”
She steps out of the room, and Nikolai takes his seat beside me, reaching out to lace his fingers through mine. His touch has become almost second nature to me now, the most natural thing in the world. It’s hard to believe that it was ever anything but.
“You remember the first time we came on this plane together?” I remark, as he lifts my hand and presses a kiss against it.
He nods. “Of course I do. The day of the wedding.”
“Well, the night of the wedding,” I remind him, cocking an eyebrow playfully.
He chuckles. “Oh, right,” he replies. “I think I remember that too.”
“You think you remember that?” I reply, laughing. “Oh, glad to see I made such an impression on you…”
“Hmm, I could use a little reminding,” he remarks, his eyes glittering—but before we can take our flirtation any further, the attendant appears with our drinks again, and I have to lower my face in the hopes that she doesn’t clock my flushing cheeks.
Nikolai lifts his glass, offering a toast. “To your second trip to Russia.”
“To my second trip,” I echo, touching my glass to his. “Hopefully it goes a little more smoothly than the first.”
“Well, Max won’t be there this time,” he points out. “Which should make life easier.”
“Good point,” I agree. But as I sip on my water and settle back in the seat, I know that it’s more than just Max’s absence that’s different this time around.
No, I can still recall all too clearly what it was like the first time we pulled up to this private jet.
Staring up at the plane waiting on the dark tarmac, knowing that I was about to be swept off to a country I’d hardly even thought about before with a man who I didn’t even know.
A man who had all but forced me to get married to him.
Fear about my business, about my future, about what all of this would mean—so much resentment and doubt and worry was coursing through every inch of me even as I tried to hold it all together.
And now, as I sit here next to my husband, his fingers laced through mine, I know this is where I have always belonged. Where I’m choosing to be now, not just forced to be.
When Nikolai asked me if I would go back and marry him again, I realized that I wouldn’t change this, no matter how crazy it might have seemed then. He has made me feel valued, cared for, loved, in ways that I didn’t even know were possible.
And my business—I have sold it off, taken a decent nest egg from my hard work that I’m going to invest in the baby as soon as they come along.
Put it away for their education, college, anything they want to do with their life.
I know Nikolai could probably afford all of that and more if I asked him, but I want to make sure that I’m providing for our child too.
Doing right by them in the way that my parents never could by me.
Because now, I have another job. Working with Nikolai.
He has made me a part of the family business, bringing me to social events, having me sit in on meetings, and listening to my opinions on the dynamics with the utmost seriousness.
It turns out that I’ve developed a seriously accurate sense of the relationships between people in these upper echelons, and it has granted him insight he never would have had otherwise.
And God, it feels good to put all those skills to work, to know that all the effort I poured into learning those small details has paid off and will support the family that I’m now a part of.
This is the last trip that we’re going to be taking before the baby comes along, to see his father in Russia.
Marcus practically insisted that we join him one last time before the baby was born—he has been as excited as we are for the birth of his grandchild, and I get the feeling that it has as much to do with what happened with Max as anything else.
He has clearly been struggling without his youngest son around anymore, though he has stood firm on his certainty that Max will never set foot in that house again.
And I want to make sure Marcus knows that he will be a part of this child’s life, the only grandparent they have, but with enough love to make up for all that they lack.
The engine rumbles beneath us and soon the plane is in the air, the sky dimming to a deep, velvety blue that spills out as far as the eye can see. I lean my head on to Nikolai’s shoulder and he drapes an arm around me, pulling me close, just like he always does.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmur, and he turns to brush his lips over my hair.
“Not as beautiful as you.”
I smile slightly, looking up at him. A little flutter warms the base of my belly—call it hormones, but I swear that I’ve been unable to keep my hands off of him these last few months.
Luckily, he seems to be in just the same mindset as me.
Call it the honeymoon phase—even if this feels way more like a honeymoon than the last trip we took to Russia.
“You’re too sweet.”
“Just saying what I see.”
He brushes the hair back from my face. I’ve let it grow out a little, and it tumbles down to my shoulders. I’m sure I’m going to regret that choice when the baby comes along, but I love how feminine it makes me feel.
“You remember our first time on this plane?” he murmurs, and I can see that familiar flirtation in his eyes, the way his voice takes on that wanting edge as though he can’t hold it back.
“Hmm, I think I do,” I murmur, tapping my finger against my chin. “I could use a little reminding, though, if I’m being honest…”
“Let me see what I can do,” he replies, and he reaches to undo the belt, pulling me into his lap.
I giggle, grabbing the back of the seat. “Hey, look out, I’ll crush you,” I warn him, but he’s already circling his hands around my waist, pulling me in close.
“I think I’ll make it. Come here…” He sinks his mouth into mine, and every inch of protest vanishes from my mind as soon as I feel my lips meet his.
God, there is nothing like this, nothing that even comes close to feeling the way this does—a high I will never grow tired of, an addiction I will always hunger to sate.
He guides my legs to either side of him, and it strikes me that this is almost the same position that we hooked up in when we were first on this plane together. Except this time, I’m facing him, looking into his eyes as he reaches down to coax off my leggings.
“What if the attendant comes back?” I whisper playfully, dragging my nose against his.
“I own the plane,” he reminds me. “I can do whatever I like.”
I giggle as I kiss him again, lifting my hips so he can tug down my panties too.
I run my hand down the front of his shirt, letting it linger for a moment over the hardening bulge that’s starting to grow beneath his pants.
My heart flutters, and I wonder, briefly, if it was our encounter on this very plane that got me pregnant in the first place.
All those months ago, all that uncertainty in my mind, and the one thing I knew for sure was that I wanted this man in every way he would let me have him.
I take his hand and bring it to my lips, pressing kisses against his fingertips before I guide it down between my thighs. I hold him there between my legs, rocking myself back and forth on top of him, letting him see the pulsing lust that rushes out to fill me as I use his hand to turn myself on.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he murmurs, as he arches his fingers slightly, grazing them just along my slit. I groan, stilling myself there, letting him slip his fingers inside of me for a moment.
“Mmm,” I whimper, glad for the cover of the engine noise. Not that I would have much cared, to be honest—he is right, after all, he owns this plane, and he can do anything he goddamn wants here. And right now, it seems like there’s nothing at all he wants more than me.
He tugs down his zipper, shifting his weight so he can release his cock from the confines of his boxers. I flick my tongue pointedly over my lips when I see him for the first time, precum leaking out of his tip like he has barely been able to hold back even this long.
“Here,” he orders me, taking my hip in one hand, guiding me so I’m hovering just above his cock.
I can feel my folds caressing him, the velvety-soft feel of him just before he sinks himself inside of me.
I take his face in my hands and look into his eyes, drinking in this sweet moment of anticipation before he thrusts himself all the way inside of me.
I could linger here forever, let the possibility of everything that lies ahead drag out for a lifetime, but he’s not willing to hold off any longer, and at last, he pulls me down on top of him and thrusts himself up to enter me.
I gasp as I feel him fill me, leaning my forehead to his and letting our breath mingle in the space between us as he holds himself there for a second. His eyes are pinned to mine, as if there’s nothing he wants more than to watch me like this, watch me lose myself to him.
He knows the effect he has on me, how easy it is for him to get me wrapped around his little finger.
Even after all this time, there’s something about the way he takes control that gives me space to let loose, knowing that I don’t have to make any choices but the one to submit myself, my body, my pleasure, to him, in any way that he wants it.
He circles his hips against mine for a moment, massaging me from the inside out, and then begins to thrust up and into me in long, deep strokes. I can hear the sounds of our bodies coming together, the noise of our union almost overwhelming the engines beneath us.
He grunts as he drives himself up to the hilt inside of me, and my nails sink into the nape of his neck. I’m unable to breathe, unable to think, unable to do anything other than just let him have me any way he wants me.
I find myself rocking back against him, the heat in my belly growing, growing, growing to the point I can’t control it.
Even with my belly between us, it feels like we have never been closer.
I slide my hand to my clit to caress myself as he fucks me, and I watch as his gaze trails down, soaking me in, clearly enjoying the show that I’m putting on for him right now.
I love the way he looks at me when he has me like this, as though I’m a centerfold brought to life just for him, and my eyes grow heavy as my breathing quickens and I find the tension spreading through my body before I can stop it.
He pulls my hips downward, our bodies flush as he plugs himself deep within me over and over again, as though he can’t stand even the barest hint of distance between us at all.
His jaw tightens, eyes darken, all tells that he’s getting close, and the sight of him gazing at me like this is everything I need to guide me into my own release.
The pleasure cascades from between my legs, sending my thighs pulsing in helpless release as my pussy squeezes around him—just like I did the very first time we were on this plane. But this time, I know, could not be more different.
He holds himself steady inside of me, letting his cock throb there as the spasming of my muscles takes him where he needs to go. The white-hot heat of his seed fills me as he finishes deep inside me, as if he could get me pregnant all over again if he just tried hard enough.
He curls an arm around me, hand splayed on my lower back, face pressed into my shoulder as though he can’t get enough of me. As though he never could, not as long as he tried.
He mutters a curse in Russian under his breath, and I slide my hands into his hair, turning his head so I can kiss him again. He makes no move to pull back from me, though he must know that we’re at risk of being caught by the staff if we stay here much longer.
“I love you,” I whisper to him, my voice still breathy from the intensity of the orgasm.
I need him to hear it. I need him to know that I still feel it, just as clearly as I did the very first time I said it to him. That our wedding night on this plane might have been too tangled to make space for anything like love, but now, I see it like a dawn breaking after a long night.
“I love you too,” he murmurs back, his tongue slipping into my mouth along with those sweet words.
And as he holds me there on top of him, I know that there is nowhere I would rather be than right where I am.
A thousand miles above the world, in the arms of the man I love.
The End.