Chapter 19
NALA
"You're going to freeze to death out here."
Roman stands in the doorway of the cottage, arms crossed, watching me spread the blanket across the cold ground. The December air bites at my exposed skin, but I don't care. I'll take the cold if it means I get to enjoy this freedom.
"No I won’t. You won’t let me.”
I smooth out the edges of the blanket. "Bring the other one. We have to double it up.”
He gives me an annoyed look but turns around and comes back with an even thicker blanket in his arms.
“Thank you.” I kiss him and watch as he starts laying it out without me asking.
"If you freeze, I'm leaving you out here. Maybe then you’ll start taking winter seriously.”
"I do take it seriously. That’s why I don’t drink cognac. I use you to warm me instead."
His lips twitch.
I grab his hand. “Come one, Roman. Sit with me. You like the cold. You always have your jacket open.”
“I don’t like it. I’m used to it.” He sits beside me. “You’re not used to it. You just like not being inside.”
I rest my head on his shoulder. “Well, you can’t blame me for that.”
“No.” he says. “I can’t. There’s only one person to blame for that.”
There it is. The reminder I was trying so hard to block out and not think about tomorrow. I lift my head from Roman’s shoulder, studying my gloved hands. “Did I ever tell you about what I did to pass the time in the basement?”
“No. You sure you want to talk about it?”
“Yeah. It’s okay now. I don’t mind.”
‘What did you do?”
“I made up stories inside my head. Not like stories in a book. More like… different lives I could’ve had.”
"I want to hear it.”
“The summer before I uh…” It’s still hard to say the word, to admit what happened to me. “Before I was kidnapped, I went to cheer camp.”
“What’s that?”
I laugh softly, suddenly feeling silly. “Cheerleading. It’s kind of like dancing and gymnastics. It’s popular in America. Especially at football games.”
Roman frowns. “Oh. You mean those girls dancing around for no reason.”
“Well, it’s not for no reason,” I say, smiling. “But yeah. That’s what I mean. I wanted to try out at my school. I was good.”
“In one of your lives, you’re one of those girls at football games?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I didn’t get that far in that fantasy. In this one, I go to high school. I’m captain of the cheerleading team. I’m really popular and I have a lot of friends. No one remembers me as the weird girl who could see things others didn’t.”
Roman stays quiet, listening.
“Inside my head, I went to parties, shopped at the mall all the time. I also went on dates.”
“I like everything except the part where you’re dating.”
I slap his arm playfully. “None of my dates were as cute as you.”
Roman laughs and draws me closer. “Tell me another one.”
“Okay, but don’t judge me.”
Roman laughs, dipping his head. “Imagine me judging you. That’s not happening. Let me hear it.”
“Okay. I told you I have a sister. Kayla. She’s smarter than I am. I don’t mean because I didn’t get to go to school. She’s younger than me, but she was always smarter.”
“Nala, you’re smart too.”
I smile, knowing he’s trying to make me feel better.
“I’m learning. But we were talking about my fantasies.
” I take a breath. “In this one, my parents are always proud of me. I don’t have to go to a private school because my parents keep arguing with my teachers about my bad grades.
I’m so smart. I do everything right and my sister gets jealous of me sometimes.
Not all the time, but just enough to make me feel good about myself. ”
His arm tightens around me.
“I never go to London on that class trip. I live my life. I go to high school and college. I get a job. It’s different all the time, but still normal. I also meet a guy.”
‘A guy,” Roman repeats.
“He never has a face,” I admit. “I couldn’t picture him.”
“This kept you sane?”
I nod. “I spent hours inside these fantasies. They never changed. No matter how many times your father came to see me and made me read so many people. None of them stayed in my mind or memory unless he forced me to talk about them again. Until you.”
He looks at me with one brow raised. “You told me you fantasized about me coming to you. Why me?”
“I saw you in that picture and something inside of me changed,” I say quietly. “I told you lying for you was instinct. It was, but it was more than that. I knew you were plotting. I shouldn’t have known but I did. I wasn’t guessing or using logic, Roman, I just knew.”
Roman doesn’t interrupt.
“That was also the first time my fantasies changed. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.
I kept seeing your eyes. Every time I imagined being rescued, it was always the same.
You coming down the basement stairs. The faceless guy in my fantasy wasn’t faceless anymore.
It was you. In every version. Every time.
” I touch his jacket. “I know why you rescued me, but I don’t care. You came to me and now you’re mine.”
“Nala…”
“I can’t lose you,” I whisper. “I won’t. I willed you to come to me once and I’m willing you to come back to me tomorrow.”
Roman is quiet, thoughtful, then I hear him, his voice low. “I wasn’t supposed to find out about you.”
“I know.”.
He shakes his head. “That’s not what I mean. The brothel you were in, it wasn’t Bratva owned. It's my father's. I hardly ever step foot in that place. As a rule, I don’t go near his businesses if I don’t have to. I didn’t want to go there, but did anyway, as a favor.”
I watch his face as he speaks.
“One of my associates forgot something there. He knew I was on that side of the city, so he asked me to pick it up. I was about to leave. Couldn’t wait to get out.” His gaze darkens. “Then I heard them. Two girls whispering about you being down there.”
“I didn’t think anyone talked about me,” I say, quietly. “I didn’t think I was important enough for them to think about after seeing me.”
“I know why I was there that day,” he continues. “I was supposed to find you. You’ve always been mine; I just didn’t know it yet. I wish I’d found you sooner.” His voice lowers. “I’m sorry, pchyolka. I really am. I hate it that I never suspected anything.”
“Roman, you saved me. That’s the only thing that matters. You couldn’t have known.”
He makes a sound as if he isn’t convinced. I bump my shoulder against his. “Are you telling me, you would’ve rescued me out of the goodness of your heart?”
Roman nudges me back. He smiles, brushing the back of his hand along my cheek. “Maybe. Guess we’ll never know.”
“Guess not.” I grin. “Know what else we’ll never know, how good that rice could’ve been. We turned it off too early.”
He laughs. “It was better than the last one you made. You’re the one who told me to turn it off. I didn’t hear you complaining after.”
“That’s because I got something much better.”
Roman groans. “Fuck, Nala. You can’t say things like that and expect me to stay out here. Ten minutes, then we’re going back inside.”
“Roman,” I whisper, remembering something else.
He leans his head back, giving me a look of warning. “Choose your next words carefully, or I swear I’m dragging you inside and ripping that coat off.”
“The first time we had sex, you said there might be a baby.”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“You come inside me all the time now. Does that mean you do want to have a baby with me?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Roman lets out a sigh then looks over at me and nods. “Yeah. I do.”
My breath stops for a second. I’m not sure what answer I expected; I just figured he didn’t care if I got pregnant or not.
“Did you ever think about kids? In any of your fantasies?”
I shake my head. “No. I never thought of that.”
Roman nods, his gaze thoughtful. “Yeah. I made sure I didn’t get anyone pregnant. Not something I wanted to deal with. I didn’t want to be tied to a woman I probably couldn’t stand, with a kid I didn’t ask for or want.” Roman shakes his head. “That would be me becoming my father.”
“But if we have a baby, you’ll love it too, right?”
“I will,” he says without hesitation. “Because it’s coming from you.” His finger brushes my lips. “I love you. I accept you’re going to make me a father. I want that.”
“Roman Ivanov’s woman,” he says huskily. “Always pregnant because she can’t keep her legs closed for him.” His gaze holds mine. “That’s you, pchyolka. How it’s going to be. I’ll keep you—and our children— safe. That’s a promise.”
“That only works if you promise not to leave me. I don’t want to use that passport unless we’re going somewhere together.”
“I promise.”
“You don’t lie to me.”
“I don’t.”
“We can go in now,” I whisper, needing to be as close to him as possible, now more than ever.
Inside the cottage, the warmth rushes over me, making my cheeks feel like they’re melting.
Roman shakes his head, helping me out of my coat. “I’m starting to think you truly love the cold.”
“I do,” I tell him, smirking. “Now that you’ve taught me how to stay warm.”
He tilts my chin up with one finger and kisses me, pulls back, gazes at me, then kisses me again. I lean into him, my hands sliding into his hair. He groans into my mouth, his hands moving to my hips, pulling me closer.
My fingers tighten in his hair, vaguely aware of him walking us backward until his legs hit the couch. He sits, taking me with him. I straddle his lap, my hands still in his hair, deepening the kiss.
His hands slip beneath my sweater, warm and rough against my skin as they move up my back. I shiver despite the heat between us. I grind on him, feeling how hard he is through his pants.
He opens my jeans and I lift up just enough for him to push my jeans and panties down my thighs, stopping above my calves. I get to work on his pants, but he shoves my hand away, quickly working himself free until his cock springs out thick and hard, ready to please me.
I can’t wait. Moaning, I lift my hips, sinking down, gasping at the stretch as his cock fills me. He grips my hips, helping me to take more and more of him. I cry out, burying my face in his neck when he’s fully inside me and I'm sitting on his lap with his cock buried deep.
"Nala," he breathes, his head falling back against the couch. "You feel incredible."
Slowly, I find my rhythm, learning how to move my hips to take him deeper as I move up and down on his cock, moaning from the fullness of it.
His rough hands close over my breasts, squeezing and fondling, no surprise since he admitted his obsession with them.
His thumbs brush over each nipple, and I arch into his touch, riding him hard.
"Look at your tits," he groans, moving his hand to let them bounce. He looks at me, then lowers his gaze to my breasts. “Fuck, you look good, riding this cock like you can’t live without it.”
“Cause I can’t,” I gasp in between a moan. He grabs my hips, forcing me to take him deeper and faster. I glance down at our bodies joined, the sound of our skin slapping together. Roman looks up at me, I look down at him. He takes my lips, going in for another hard kiss. “I love you so much.”
“Love you too.” Right then and there, the pressure building inside me snaps. My whole body shakes as I clench all around him. I’m so hot, burning up from pleasure and spiraling from my obsession with him.
He throws his head back, groaning as his cock pulses inside me, before warm wetness spills inside me. My stomach and now my pussy, filled with his cum. We stay joined, my face buried in his neck, trying to catch my breath.
After a while, he lifts me gently. I step out of my pants and panties still gathered around my calves. We make it to the bedroom this time, taking time to undress. It doesn’t take long before he’s on me again, inside me moving slow and deep, just taking his time.
We have sex for hours until I lose count of how many times he makes me come and all I can feel is wetness between my thighs from his cum dripping out.
At some point Roman and I drift off to sleep.
Sometime in the night, I awake to the sensation of being full.
My eyes flutter open in the dark and realize that I have one leg slightly up and Roman is above me, deep inside me and moving slow.
I bite my lip and whisper his name and he kisses my neck, moving faster. I move my hips, joining him and meeting his thrusts.
"Pchyolka," he murmurs. "Moya pchyolka. I love you."
"My Roman," I whisper, my hands sliding up his back. “Don’t ever leave me.”
He cups my face with one hand, gazing at me as if he’s memorizing my features. “I won’t,” he promises. “I won’t.”
His pace becomes gentle, like he's savoring every moment, every thrust, every sound I make.
It doesn’t take long before I’m grasping his shoulders, coming again. He follows right after, whispering my name. When he rolls over, he brings me with him, his arms locked around me.
I try my hardest not to fall asleep, to keep my eyes from growing heavy.
I fail.
His warmth pulls me under, and I drift off to sleep. Hours later, the cold wakes me. My eyes snap open to see that it’s still dark. I turn onto my side, finding nothing but empty space.
“Roman?”
I climb out of bed, panicking. He can’t be gone already. I scramble through the cottage calling his name.
No answer.
The clock on the wall ticks. I look up to see it’s five-thirty and stomach sinks to the bottom of my feet. I press a hand to my chest and sink to the floor, struggling to breathe.
Eventually, I suck in a deep breath and return to the bedroom, clutching his pillow to my chest and breathing in the faint trace of him still there.
I know he wouldn’t want me to cry, but I can’t help it. I curl onto my side and do it anyway.