Dmitri
Chapter Thirty
T oday was one of the two most joyous days of my life.
It was the day Lara whispered, “I do,” her voice a melody of commitment that resonated in my soul.
I only wished the Red Knights were here to celebrate with me, but they had already faced enough exposure.
I had to trust that no one would reveal our secret.
The other best day of my life was discovering I was going to be a father.
Although I had reassured Lara a week ago that it didn’t matter if we filled our grand mansion with the laughter of children, the reality of it happening filled my heart with an indescribable joy.
Lara, too, was overjoyed, despite her initial shock when she first learned the results of the blood test. Only after we found out about her pregnancy did I discover she had a birth control implant meant to last three years. It seemed not everything was foolproof.
“Here, kukolka ,” I said, handing her a flute of sparkling champagne, non-alcoholic, as we prepared to make our first toast as husband and wife. Its bubbles danced in the light, a reflection of our own effervescent joy.
The guests gathered around the expansive lawns, bordered by the vibrant gardens my mother had cherished so deeply.
The air was perfumed with the scent of blooming roses and jasmine.
Raising my glass, I turned toward Lara, the most captivating, breathtakingly beautiful woman I had ever known, who at every moment took my breath away.
“Lara, my beautiful wife,” I began, my voice filled with emotion.
“Even though we haven’t known each other for long, you have awakened something inside me that had been lost for far too long.
When my mother and sister were taken from me, my world turned dark.
You saw through that darkness and showed me how to feel again.
You will always have my heart. I am forever yours. ”
“I love you,” she mouthed, her eyes glistening with tears.
The twinkling lights strung above us sparkled as the crowd erupted into applause and cheers, urging us to seal our vows with a kiss. I would never miss the chance to kiss my wife, whether in the privacy of our home or here in front of our loved ones.
The moment the song concluded and seamlessly transitioned into another, the wedding guests finally joined in, filling the dance floor with vibrant energy. As much as it pained me to release her, I knew I couldn’t prevent Angelo from stepping in to share the moment.
“Do you mind if I dance with my beautiful sister?” Angelo inquired, his eyes glistening with warmth and brotherly affection.
With a gentle kiss on her cheek, I deliberately stepped aside, surrendering the floor to them, and made my way to the bar, seeking a moment’s respite.
“Scotch, neat,” I instructed the bartender, my voice steady as I turned my gaze back to the scene unfolding before me.
My wife, Lara, now danced with her brother, her face illuminated with a joy that rivaled the twinkling lights overhead.
Each new song seemed to blend seamlessly into the next, her laughter ringing out like a melody of its own as her head tilted back and her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue.
I found myself curious about the words Angelo had spoken to spark such a radiant smile.
“I never thought I’d see the day my daughter would marry an Antonov,” Giovanni remarked, his eyes fixed on the dance floor as he appeared beside me.
“I never imagined I would have a Balestrini as a father-in-law,” I retorted, a hint of tension creeping into my tone in response to his candid admission.
“You are a good man, Dmitri. Despite our origins on opposing sides of the street, I hope we can cut through all the bullshit and find some common ground.” Giovanni raised his glass, extending an olive branch in the form of a truce.
“I love Lara, and for her, I would do anything.” I lifted my glass, meeting his with a gentle clink before taking a contemplative sip. Perhaps it was time for the Bratva and Cosa Nostra to forge an alliance that both sides could embrace.
~***~
The final guest departed, and Lara and I ascended the grand marble staircase, its surface cool and smooth beneath our feet, to our bedroom.
I swept her up in my arms, bridal style, her body light and warm against my chest, and carried her across the threshold, before gently setting her down on the floor.
Her eyes, gleaming like emeralds under the soft bedroom light, gazed up at me with an intensity that spoke volumes of her love and devotion. I cupped her face, my fingers tracing the delicate line of her jaw, before lowering my head to capture her lips in a deep, passionate kiss.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I murmured against her mouth.
“Make love to me,” she whispered, her voice a sultry melody that ignited a fire within me.
Trailing kisses down her neck, I wrapped my arm around her back, my fingers finding the zipper of her dress.
The soft, silky material whispered against her skin as it slid down her body, pooling at her feet like a shimmering lake.
She stood before me, bathed in the moonlight, clad only in lace panties and a matching garter, her breaths coming in soft, anticipatory gasps.
“So fucking perfect,” I muttered, my eyes roving over her, taking in every curve and line.
Lifting her from the floor, I laid her gently on the bed, my eyes never leaving hers as I peeled off my clothes, my heart pounding in my chest. Smiling, I positioned myself between her legs, my fingers tracing soft patterns on her thighs before placing tender kisses along each one.
Pulling away her white lacy panties but leaving her matching garter and silk stocking since they were sexy as hell, I nuzzled my face between her thighs and pushed my tongue into her tight warmth, feeling her body respond to my touch.
Fuck, she was already wet for me. Inhaling her sweet, feminine scent, I circled my tongue over her clit, lapping at the juices that began to flow into my mouth.
There had never been anything gentle about me, but tonight, I wanted to be gentle with her—to make love to her.
“Dmitri,” she gasped, her hands reaching for me, her fingers tangling in my hair.
I rubbed the head of my cock against her slick pussy lips, gently pushing into her entrance, working my way in, inch by inch, into her tight passage.
Her walls squeezed around the tip of my cock, sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.
Fuck, she was so tight. So fucking pleasurable I could lose control.