Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Annika
I’m not used this side of Kirill. Yes, he’s giving.
In many ways. I wanted a studio and he gave me one.
I wanted a relationship with explosively great sex and he’s certainly provided.
Then there’s the clothes, the jewelry, the countless other gifts and purchases to make me as comfortable as possible within the confines of my new home- but this? This is new.
He comes out of the bathroom, smelling sinfully masculine and still dripping from his shower. Gray sweatpants are slung low on his hips, giving me an absolutely delicious view of his muscular form. Suddenly I’m not feeling so rough.
“What?” he asks.
My eyes snap up to his. His left brow raises as his piercing blue eyes glow with the question. I swallow the last bite of my ice cream and lick my lower lip.
“Nothing.” My voice comes out raspy and I blush.
He keeps that intense stare on me and I know I need to say something else or he won’t let it go.
“I just…”I trail off as my eyes slowly wander down the ridges of his defined pectorals, abs, to the V of his hips.
“I’ve never seen you in sweatpants before,” I eventually get out. “You’re either in a suit or…or naked when I see you.”
His brow perks as he smirks at me.
“Would you prefer I change into a suit?” he asks me.
“I would prefer you take those off,” I blurt out before my internal filter can catch it.
Kirill’s smirk widens into a grin as he shakes his head.
“Dirty girl,” he teases, and I feel my cheeks catch fire.
“Any other night I would be happy to oblige, devochka,” he tells me as he walks toward me, “But tonight, you need something else.”
I need you.
My body burns and tingles at the thought. Even through the discomfort of my roiling stomach, I want him inside me. But he’s right. The last thing I want is to throw up on him during one of our more visceral moments. My ego would never recover.
So I just nod my head as he crawls into the bed with me. He takes the empty ice cream carton from my hands and sits it on the night stand, then grabs my arms and pulls me toward him as he sits with his back against the headboard. I nestle into his naked chest, loving how warm he is.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he tells me, his hand stroking my hair.
His gentle touch relaxes me, and I sigh as I lower my head to his lap, feeling exhausted.
“I was fine until my meeting with Max,” I tell him. Then grumble as I add, “I think his pushiness set off my morning sickness.”
His stroking stops, and he traces his fingers down to my chin, urging me to look up at him. When I do I see a menacing gleam in his eyes.
“This man upset you?” he asks.
I shrug.
“It wasn’t like he was wrong,” I say. “He was right. I haven’t had a show in almost a year and as a new artist, I need to get more of my work on the market if I want to get established.
I just…I just wish he wouldn’t have surprised me.
Given me more time to prepare. Now he says I have a show next week and I feel so nervous about it.
I have pieces, but they could be better. ”
“Do you want me to talk to him?”
“No,” I answer quickly, and just the thought of it has me laughing. “You’d probably give the poor man a coronary.”
Kirill’s menacing look turns into a smirk, and he goes back to stroking my hair.
“Anyway, I think I just got so anxious for my show that I started feeling sick. The baby, all these new hormones, has me feeling more emotional than normal,” I go on.
I’m surprised as I watch the cocky look in Kirill’s eyes slip into helplessness. It’s not a look I’ve seen on him before, and it makes my heart twitch in a funny way.
“What can I do, devochka?” he asks. “How can I make you feel better?”
I snuggle further down until my head is in his lap and hitch my leg over his.
“This is helping,” I sigh, then glance up with a pleading smile. “And maybe a movie? Something comforting?”
“We can watch whatever you like,” he tells, then reaches for the remote.
“Sin City?” I request, and his sudden laughter jostles my head.
“That’s your comfort movie?” he asks.
I can’t help but giggle along with him and shrug.
“What can I say? I like the romance.”
“Romance?! It’s full of violence and prostitutes! The acting is terrible!”
“It’s supposed to be terrible,” I giggle, “And there’s a lot a sweetness too. I like how the big brute guys will do anything to protect their women.”
“Hmm,” he hums, giving my ass a gentle slap and squeeze. “Do you now?”
I nod my head, then bat my lashes innocently as I lay a quick kiss on his abs.
Kirill chuckles again as he shakes his head, but he pulls the movie up and pushes play.
For the first ten minutes or so of the movie, I’m in bliss. Kirill’s hand is sending lovely jolts of relief through my scalp, my stomach is feeling less fluttery, and I’ve found a very comfy spot curled up in Kirill’s lap.
Then Kirill slides his hand down my back, using the heel of his palm to massage my muscles.
I gasp at the wonderful sensation, and wiggle further into his touch.
As I do so, my cheek rubs against something hard beneath his sweatpants, and I know it's not his legs.
I nuzzle my cheek a little further, and a spark of heat shoots through me as I feel his cock throb and jump.
Kirill clears his throat as he shifts in the bed.
“Sorry about that,” he murmurs.
I look up and my hardcore mafia prince husband actually looks a little bashful. I realize I don’t only find this cute, but incredibly hot.
“Don’t be,” I whisper, then nuzzle my cheek against him once again.
A tortured sound leaves my husband’s throat, sending heat through my core, and I turn my head so I can plant my parted lips on the fabric and blow my warm breath over the outline of his cock.
Kirill’s grasp on my jaw is quick and firm- but not harsh.
“Devochka.” His eyes and voice are full of warning he makes me look up at him, and he gives a terse shake of his head.
“I feel better,” I whisper, need starting to pulse through my veins.
“And if my cock is jammed down your throat? You think you’ll still feel that way?”
My mouth waters at his blunt words.
“It’d be worth the risk,” I rasp.
Kirill’s eyes begin to glow with arousal as he looks down at me, but his words shatter my hopes.
“No it’s not,” he tells me. “I can appreciate your hunger, devochka, but I’m not going to be the reason your stomach gets upset again.”
I pout. Like a fucking child being told I can’t have my toy, I pout, and I turn my head back to the movie, embarrassed.
My eyes barely catch the screen though before Kirills hand is around my throat and he’s pulling me upward.
His mouth crashes against mine hard; tongue and lips and teeth taking full possession so quickly that it makes me dizzy- and then he pulls away.
“Lay down,” he growls, and is already pushing me onto the bed as he pulls away from the headboard.
I fall back into the pillows, barely letting out a gasp before he has his hands around my knees and yanking me further down the bed so my back is completely against the mattress.
“What are you doing?” I breathe.
I’m so confused. Didn’t he just tell me no?
Kirill’s gaze rakes down my body, then his breath hitches as he gets to my parted legs and sees that I’m not wearing any panties beneath my shirt- his shirt.
“I can’t risk upsetting your stomach with our baby in there,” he tells me, pushing my knees farther apart, “But I don’t share that problem.”
Excitement shoots through me as I realize what he’s saying, and I splay my legs wide to accommodate his massive shoulders.
“Eyes up, baby girl,” he commands, lowering his mouth between my legs. “Watch your movie and relax.”
I gasp and arch my back as his tongue oh so very softly laps over my petals.
Usually when he goes down on me he’s rough and greedy- and I love it- but tonight, even though his words are coarse, his tongue is the exact opposite.
Slow, gentle flicks of his tongue flutter over my lips and clitoris like butterfly wings, lulling me into a heavy sense of arousal that has me melting into the bed.
My lashes flutter as this sensual ecstasy takes over my entire body. He’s taking his gentle, sweet time, coaxing me toward my first orgasm with long, languid strokes as if we have all the time in the world.
Yes. This is definitely making me feel better. No stomach discomfort to be seen or felt by this form of play.
And then he stops, making the very breath I was in the middle of inhaling stop.
“What did I say?” His deep voice draws out seductively. He drops a wet kiss on my clitoris, then, making me whimper.
“Hmmm?” he hums, and I know he’s waiting for me to answer.
It takes me several seconds to force my eyes open and focus on the screen. My pussy is throbbing, begging for him to end his interruption and come back.
“Watch the movie and relax,” I whimper.
“Good girl,” he praises, then drops his head between my thighs again. “Don’t let me catch you disobeying me again. You don’t want me to stop, do you?”
His deep, patronizing tone should have me burning with anger, but instead it has that submissive side of me positively cooing with joy.
“No, Sir,” I breathe.
“That’s my good girl,” he whispers, then suckles my clitoris so sweetly it brings tears to my eyes and makes my thighs tremble.
I whimper as he increases the suction, pulling me closer to release- but I obey his orders and keep my eyes on the movie, watching the part where Jessica Alba leaps into Bruce Willis’s arms and kisses him right after he gets out of the jail.
The passion on the screen combined with the sweet pleasure Kirill is giving me between my legs has my orgasm gushing forth, and I cry out my grumpy protector’s name as my hips levitate off the bed.
I fight the urge to close my eyes as he makes me soak the sheets, knowing he’ll stop if he catches me and I don’t want him to stop- I don’t ever want him to stop this delicious new form of torture.
“So sweet,” he whispers into my pussy as he cleans my cum off of me, “So perfect. Mmm. I think I’ll do this every night. Is that all right with you, devochka?”
“Yes,” I moan as he slides a finger into my flooded sheath, sending another deep jolt of pleasure through me.
As his mouth starts working me along with his finger and I already start the gathering of another orgasm, I know he’s serious. He’ll do this all night until I’m passed out from the pleasure; until my nervous thoughts and stomach aches are long forgotten and all I can think or feel is him.