Chapter 13 #3
“Jesus,” he says to himself in a reverent whisper.
“She’s still coming.” He licks me again and again.
My orgasm is interminable. I think I stop coming and then go into a second one as he drives his fingers into my channel, pumping.
I soak his hand, and still I come. Over and over, I climax against his mouth until I’m spent and can’t move.
I’m still tied to the bed when he grabs my legs, spreads them wide, and positions himself above me, driving his thick, hot, throbbing cock between them.
I come again as he thrusts into me, over and over, until I can’t take it anymore.
I’m as weak as a rag doll, lying in the bed as he groans, tightens, and spills inside me.
“Jesus,” he says. “Never seen one like that before. You’re so uninhibited.
It’s the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen. God, woman.”
“You weren't exactly Mr. Shy when you came either, caveman.”
That earns me a bonafide smile from the guy.
“Ooh. A smile. What will you do if I feed you breakfast?”
He snorts. “Eat it? But you’re not feeding me breakfast. I waited a long time for this. You stay here. I want to eat breakfast in bed with you.”
He unties my wrists, and I lean back on the pillows, still warm and pliable after coming like that. “Alright,” I say. “If you insist.” Good thing he’s planning on feeding me since I don’t really trust myself to walk right now.
“You’ll find out soon that I don’t usually make suggestions.”
“Mmm,” I say thoughtfully as he tugs on boxers and heads to the door. “You’ll find out soon I don’t usually obey.”
The heat of his gaze turns whatever bones I have left to jelly. “We’ll work on that.”
“I hope we do.”
He shakes his head and heads for the door.
“Why are you wearing boxers?” I ask after his retreating back. “There’s no one here.”
“I can guarantee there’s video surveillance in the hallway, and I have no interest in my brothers seeing my junk.”
God. “Fair enough. So, I guess I can’t waltz around naked either, then?”
I wait for what’s sure to be a rewarding answer. “I’d have to fucking kill them if they saw you naked, so yeah.” He turns around halfway out the door. “And you wouldn’t sit for a fucking week.”
Jesus. I came twice, and now I’m turned on again.
I half fall asleep before he comes back with more food than I could eat in a week, but I’m famished, and the ripe fruit and scrambled eggs are delicious.
“What do you want to do on our first day?”
"Check out the workout room and make our way to the beach.” I shrug. "Fuck my husband again.”
“You’re right,” he says with a nod.
“About what?”
“You definitely don’t need cake to party.”
I smile. “Yeah and it’s probably time to talk about birth control.”
He blinks. “Birth control? Fuck birth control. We’re married.”
I stare at him. Jesus. “What? I’m not ready for babies yet, Lev.” I checked my bags already and confirmed I have my pills with me. It was one of the first things I asked Polina about and she hooked me up.
"I get it. It doesn’t have to happen today.” He pauses. “I’ll take very good care of you as my wife, Isabella.”
My heart thumps. “Even so… I’m not sure how I feel about having children.”
“Why?” he asks, his eyes searching mine.
I look away, struggling to articulate my feelings. “I don’t know.”
I tell myself I don’t want to have swollen ankles and heartburn and stretch marks.
But the truth is, I really don’t know why I don’t want children.
There’s a part of me that really, really does.
I love holding babies, kissing their sweet little heads.
The way they hold your finger when they sleep and how adorably they smile and coo.
It’s not that I don’t want babies…just maybe not right now.
And I always envisioned having babies with a man I actually love. My voice is a bit tighter than I intend when I snap back at him. “I just don’t want babies right now, okay?”
His face grows serious. “My family will expect it.”
“Really?” I ask, curiosity piqued. God, of course they do.
“We are strengthening our roots by having children. Growing in numbers.” He shakes his head. “I want you to want the children, though.”
I purse my lips. “Why is that?”
A muscle tenses in his jaw. Before he responds, he takes our plates, stacks them, and lines up the napkins before placing them on a tray.
“Because children aren’t commodities.” Ooh. That touched a nerve. “My father treated us like that, like trophies to win and put on a shelf, and it’s not right.”
I swallow, looking at him. “You want me to want a baby,” I repeat.
“Absolutely.”
Well now he’s really pushing it. I frown at him. “You want to be a father?”
His dark eyes grow earnest. “I do. So much.”
It is not fair the way he makes me melt like that. What is it about a man that says he wants to be a daddy? I swallow the tingly feeling in my throat and look away.
“Even though you had a bad one…” I guess I’m telling him more than I planned.
I turn my head away, uncertain how to continue. How would that work, me being the queen of Colombia and him in the Bratva and pregnant?
Maybe it’s time I tell him about my plan. Maybe it’s time he knows marrying me comes with decided benefits… if we play this right.
I stare at him, unsure if I can trust him yet.
Will there ever really be a time?