“I love you,” her lips say into mine. “So, so much.”
My heart swells and expands, feeling as if it’s suddenly too large for my chest. I cup Vasilisa’s face with my palm, soaking in the view of her, flushed and panting, as she rides me, chasing her pleasure with wild abandon.
This ecstasy is all I need to know the old shadows are gone. Those dark thoughts that used to plague me when I was a much younger man. There were dark moments through the years when I reflected on that moment at the mall. That minute just before the explosion.
I’m ashamed to admit it, even to myself, but more than once I’ve wondered what would have happened if I hadn’t been there. How would my life have turned out? What if I’d left before I saw the girl merrily running down that hall? Or if I did, but chose to remain in that stairwell. Those thoughts made me feel sick to my stomach, disgusted with myself. And still, they would surface on occasion. In moments of weakness. In moments of pain.
Now? Now I’m beating myself up over that scar on Vasilisa’s back. One damn shard that managed to get past me. That hurt her. That left a permanent mark. I should have shielded her better. That cut should have ended up on me, as well. Never her.
I’ve always hated my reflection in the mirror. That is until I realized the girl I saved was Vasilisa. Now, seeing myself, the only feeling I have is of relief. Because it was me who was injured, not her.
Was it destiny that I was there to save her? Was our fate sealed by my choice? Or did the unyielding kismet guide her skillfully to me all these years later?
Vasilisa tugs my hair as she arches her back, coming undone in my arms. I finally let go, filling her with my cum. Our labored breaths echo through the space around us. I gently caress my wife’s face. My beauty. In the arms of a beast.
“I think that fairy tales exist, after all, vespetta. And I believe, I owe you a present.”
“What are you talking about,” she pants. “What present?”
I smile. “A library.”
“We’re here!” I announce and, squeezing Rafael’s hand in mine, step into the entry hall.
My father approaches us, his face grim, suddenly stopping just an arm’s length away. His eyes slide over my visage—and I can’t help but wonder if my makeup is smudged—then drop to my blouse. I glance down and cringe. I seem to have missed one of the buttons. And my skirt is askew. Shit. I quickly adjust the hem, but there’s nothing I can do about the shirt. I’ll just have to play it cool and hope this dinner doesn’t end in bloodshed.
“Um . . . Hi, Dad,” I chirp, grinning widely.
A strange growling sound erupts from Roman Petrov’s throat, and I have no doubt we’ve just landed in the hot seat. Dad’s nostrils flare, and he turns his menacing glare on my husband. “You have a death wish, De Santi?”
I close my eyes and take a calming breath. If they start waving their guns and punching each other, I’m leaving.
“I see you’re still as dramatic as ever . . . Dad,” Rafael deadpans.
Oh God . . .
The look on my father’s face turns homicidal. He takes a step forward, nearly bumping Rafael’s chest. “You do not call me ‘Dad,’ you thieving motherfucker! I swear, I’m going to—”
“Yeah, I know. You’re going to kill me in a very unpleasant way.” Rafael moves past my father, tapping him on the shoulder as we pass. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
“You promised you’d behave,” I murmur as we head toward the dining room.
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
Rafael’s lips curve into a devilish smirk. “No. Not even a little bit.”
“He’s still coming to terms with everything. Maybe if you would— Rafael!” I squeak, quickly pushing his hand away. He just squeezed my ass while my dad was watching!
“What?”
“Please, can we all put in a bit of effort, so this evening doesn’t unravel into a disaster, and actually have a good time?”
Rafael throws a glance over his shoulder. I follow his gaze and wince. My dad is still standing by the front door, his eyes wide like a maniac’s as he glares back at my husband.
“I’m already having a great time.” Rafael wraps his arm around my waist and lifts me to his chest. “And it’s only going to get better.”
His mouth slams against mine with such force that I shriek. Everything else becomes insignificant, as usual, when my husband kisses me. I wrap my legs around his waist and squeeze his neck, kissing him back as if there’s no tomorrow. Rafael keeps his hand on my chin, holding my head steady while ravishing my lips with his.
“Oh, there you are, lovebirds,” my mom chirps behind me. “The food is getting cold.”
I quickly break the kiss and practically slide down Rafael’s body.
“Um, hey, Mom. Yeah, we’re coming. But you may need to get Dad a tranquilizer.” I grab Rafael’s hand and drag him into the dining room.
Yulia is already seated at the table, fiddling with her phone. Aunt Angelina is sitting across from her.
“Where’s everyone else?” I ask, looking at the empty seats.
“Sergei will come shortly.” Angelina smiles. “He had to drop off a change of clothes for Alexei and Sasha. They’ve been arrested.”
“What?!”
“Police caught them street racing last night. They were driving way over the speed limit. Roman decided to leave them stewing in the precinct’s holding cells today, so they could learn their lesson. He’ll send the lawyer tomorrow to arrange bail.”
“Great.” I sigh and take a seat next to Yulia while Rafael takes the chair on my right.
