The Life She Wished For (Birds of Paradise Book 2)

by ChaShiree M.

  “Ah. Look at you. You have no idea what the level of trust you have in me does for me Myshka. Knowing you trust me enough to do as I ask, no questions and no hesitation, makes me hard enough to fuck a hole through the glass you are leaning on. Look at you with your skin covered in a sheen of perspiration, waiting for me to do what I will. I wonder if I can taste your desperation like I can smell it.”

  When he licks me going up my spine, I think I am going to cum right here. Where I was wet before, I can feel it on my thighs now and it feels naughty and right, standing here and giving myself to him.

  “Mmm…sweet sweat.” He whispers in my ear. “And an even sweeter pussy. Now let’s see. You have been prancing around town in this short sundress showing all this skin, letting other men see you? Have you enjoyed watching men drool over this fire red hair and your glowing skin? Enjoyed knowing they were undressing you with their eyes, Kotenok?”

  Oh God, how can something so dirty be so amazing. His hands make light swiping movements against my arms as they travel up toward my breasts. My breathing picks up, becoming rapid and shallow. I want him to touch me everywhere. The need to feel his hands on me, exploring me is all together desperate right now.

  I am not above begging. As if he knows, he stops below my breasts and I can feel his thumb rubbing back and forth on the underside. Somehow it is too much, but totally not enough. And although I have no idea what he is talking about, I cannot deny the way it is making me feel hearing the words and having him whisper them to me. With his breath tracing over my neck, causing the hairs to stand up; knowing with a swipe in the right direction, his mouth can come in contact with my skin directly. I cannot promise I won’t come from that alone.

  “My beautiful angel. I can smell how much this is turning you on and I have to wonder, is it being against this window with the world looking in? Are we discovering you are an exhibitionist my sweet? Hmmmm is that what is making you so wet and needy? Or is it just me? Perhaps, it is a combination of both?” He questions with a mischievous taunting.

  Am I an exhibitionist? I have no fucking clue. I couldn’t begin to tell you how I feel about standing in front of this window. The only thing I know without a shadow of a doubt is that this man, my fiancé, is like a drug for me. When I am not with him, I crave him as I would my next breath. And when he is around, I am high from his proximity alone and can focus on nothing else. I know it is insane, but it is the way he makes me feel and I am unable to control it.

  “Mikhail please. I will do anything. Please just touch me. Somewhere, Anywhere. Everywhere. It tingles. It tingles everywhere. Please make it stop… Oh…yes, yes…”

  At some point as I am begging, he has lowered the cup of my sundress and latched his deliciously wet, hot sinful mouth on my nipple. It is the second best feeling I have ever felt. It doesn’t come close to what I need right now, but knowing we are headed in the right direction is bliss all by itself.

  The insane sucking and wet suction noises his mouth makes as he is pulling, tugging, and lavishing my breasts as his attention goes back and forth from one to the other. The sounds are decadent, and I find myself staring down at him watching him do it. In Between the moans and pleas to do more, I maintain eye contact with him and that is simply intoxicating.

  “Phoenix, my little Myshka, who knew when I saw you in that bar there would be a wanton little Kotenok inside all of that reserved shyness. You have no idea how happy it makes me to know I will be the only one ever to know, hear, see, and taste it.”

  I cannot concentrate on his words when his hands have found their way into my panties and are moving back and forth across the sensitive little bud. In vain I am wiggling within his grasp, trying to make him land where I so desperately need him. As usual, he is always in control.

  “Ah, ah, ah… naughty little Myshka, we don’t have time for all you want baby. We must start getting ready. However, I need to have the taste of you on my tongue when we go out tonight to hold me off. I have to go to this event and if I don’t do something, we won’t make it.”

  And with that he dives face first into my pussy and a scream is all I can manage before I cum in a gush right onto his face.

  “MIKHAIL!!!!!!!”

  When I finally pull myself together after the soul stretching orgasm, he held me, and we talked about the future. How many kids we want to have, if I know what I want to do, or do I want to be a stay home mom. Considering our discussion, it would be a good time to tell him about the baby; but I really want to wait for the surprise I set up for him when we get back.

  We finally get up and dress. If his reaction is anything to go by, I look great. The dress we chose is a floor length princess style, with less poof at the bottom but enough flare to not be considered A-Line. The cleavage is chaste and non-existent with an innocent looking back. It has a red colored bow around the waist and the material is a form of velvet fabric. My hair is tied up with a matching hairband, making me look every bit as regal as the women I see in magazines.

  When we make it to the theater, I know I must look like a guppy with my mouth hanging open and twitching up and down. It is exquisite. The room is draped in crystals looking as if there are diamonds from floor to ceiling. The window dressings are white, with a type of sparkling jewel on them. The floor looks as if a cloud of snow has been hand painted on it. The stairs appear to be sculpted out of glass. It looks like a Winter Wonderland.

  Mikhail chuckles at my obvious stilted admiration. “Close your mouth Phoenix. It is only decorations. There is nothing or no one in this room who looks more beautiful and worthy of adoration as you my love. Come. Let’s find our seats. It is about to begin.”

  Fantastic. That is the first word to describe the Opera. Utterly fantastic. I have gone through many different emotions watching only the first half of this show. Amazement is the one I think sticks out profoundly. By the time the first half is over, I am giddy, speechless, and I must pee like nobody’s business. Excusing myself to go to the lady’s room, I walk down the hall not thinking anything could make or break this day.

  “Excuse me. Are you Phoenix?” A woman asks me as I exit the stall.

  “Yes. I am. I’m sorry have we met?” I mean surely, I would remember meeting a woman as elegant as her. She reminds me of one of those foreign models you see in the magazine. She stands at about 5’10’’ with platinum blonde hair, perfectly bobbed, and coiffed, while wearing a very elegant and suitable pantsuit in a beautiful shade of blue. Her nails are immaculately manicured, and her eyes are the most piercing blue I have ever seen. Yep. Nope. I am positive I have never seen her before.

  “No. We haven’t. But you have met my husband. My name is Elizaveta. Elizaveta Mikhailov.”

  Mikhailov. That… that’s Mikhail’s last name. Surely, I heard her wrong. Or maybe she is his sister or something. But the churning in my gut and her use of the word ‘Husband’ tells me my life is about to change…and not for the better.

  “Your hus-husband?” I stutter out of my mouth.

  “Yes. Maksim Mikhailov. That is my husband. We have been married for 10 years next month.”

  “I’m sorry. You must have the wrong person. Another Mikhail, perhaps?” I know how ridiculous it sounds, even to myself, but I cannot seem to comprehend or fathom what she is telling me could be the truth. My Mikhail would not lie to me about something like this. He just asked me to marry him. I’m pregnant with his baby.

  No. No.

  I am not going to let her make me doubt him. I believe in him and his love for me.

  “Well I am sure you are mistaken. My Mikhail doesn’t have a wife and as a matter of fact, we just got engaged. So, if you’ll excuse me.” I say as I make a beeline for the door.

  “Well then explain this.” She says. Reluctantly I turn around and am confronted with my worst nightmare. Not only does she have a marriage certificate with his signature on it, she is also holding a photo of them standing in front of the priest.

  Oh God. I run back into the bathr
oom to throw up the contents off the hors d’oeuvres, I ingested. All the while silently crying not only for me and the life I wished for vanishing before my eyes, but also crying for my baby. Meanwhile she has not stopped talking.

  “Little girl what did you think? That a grown man like Mikhail would really want you? You are simply a means to an end. He needed someone wholesome to be seen with for a while to appease the board members, who weren’t all that keen on me because of the reputation my father carries. We concocted this plan to get the votes we need for this project and then this little charade will be over.

  However, he has developed a fondness for you and couldn’t tell you himself, so I volunteered to do it for him. Sometimes a wife has to look like a monster, so her husband can still be King. I know you fancied yourself in love and all, but if I were you, I would find a new father figure to latch onto.

  Oh, and also I would kindly like for you to not upset MY husband by crying all over him. Suck it up little girl. Welcome to the real world.”

  And with that she strutted out, stomping over my dreams as she went. Between the vomiting and crying, all I could think was how to get back to my family as quickly as possible, without falling apart.

  After the ‘bathroom incident’, which is what I have taken to calling it, I went back to the opera feigning sick and we left. I’m not sure if it was from the pregnancy or the situation, but I didn’t have to feign long because I basically threw up all night at the hotel. Which was a blessing. I was able to stay in the bed and sleep without having to face him. The plane ride was more of the same.

  We arrive back around noon and to my satisfaction once again being given a reprieve, he drops me off and goes into the office. Walking into the house is surreal. When I left several days ago, I was walking out of My Home. The place we were going to grow old together and raise our family. The place I was going to entertain our friends and family and make memories with him. A place laced already with memories of places he has made love to me, fucked me, and told me he loved me.

  All the happiness I have in my life is all wrapped up in this house and now walking back into it; facing the very possibility it is all a lie. Everything could be a lie. Well not everything. The baby is very real, with or without him and it’s my baby. With my families help, I will…no WE will be ok. I think as I rub my non-existent bump.

  Something doesn’t seem right about the whole situation and maybe that is why I haven’t called any of my siblings yet. I need to talk to someone who loves me but will tell me the truth. My first thought is to call Oxana, but she probably knew about this and that makes her just as guilty as him in my eyes. Plus, she is his friend, so I can’t trust anything she says.

  That only leaves one person. So, I pick up the phone and make the call and like always in 10 minutes she is where I need her.

  I hug Celeste as if my life depends on it. I made a promise to myself I wouldn’t cry; but the minute her arms wrap around me, the past 24 hours come barreling down and I am a mess.

  “Hey now. Phoenix what’s wrong? It can’t be all that bad. Can it?” She tries to coax it out of me.

  “It’s worse. I feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest and I haven’t eaten in 24 hours. I barely slept. Celeste, my whole life is over. I-I-can’t breathe because I have lost everything, when it wasn’t even mine to begin with. It was all a lie. A joke. A game. I should have known. What would a man like him want with a young and inexperienced girl like me?”

  “Whoa. Slow down. You’re not making any sense. I gather it’s about Mikhail, but what has happened?”

  Taking a deep breath, I jump right into the story telling her everything. From the proposal, to the baby, to the opera, and to the bathroom confrontation leading to this moment. When I am finished and inhale then exhale deeply as I wait with bated breath for her reaction. She does not disappoint.

  “What. The. Fuck? Are you shitting me? You didn’t crotch punch that cunt? And then you should have gone into that opera room and ripped his balls off. Those lying, conniving, no good motherfuckers. Have you told your brothers yet?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? You know damn well he’d be at the bottom of the ocean, tied to cinder blocks by now. Oh man, I am so sorry Phe. I never saw this coming… When anyone is around you two, it seems totally real. As mad as I am right now, somehow, I feel there is more to it. Maybe there is a logical explanation to what she showed you. I know this is not what you want to hear, but you have a baby to think of now.” She tells me.

  Conveying the obvious while looking at her own visible bump rubbing it. I envy her more than ever at this moment. Here we are, both pregnant and she knows the man she is starting a family with loves her.

  “It pains me to say it, Phe, but you are going to have to talk to him about it before you make any decisions.”

  Beep. Beep.

  Apparently now is the time. We both turn towards the sound of the alarm being shut-off. I stand to go and greet him, when in walks a man I do not recognize. Initially I am nonplussed, figuring he is one of the guys Mikhail has on me, until I notice he has gloves on his hands and it is 75 degrees outside. One of the things my brothers always taught us is, if it looks suspicious, then it likely is. And that is suspicious.

  “Who are you and what are you doing in my house?”

  “Don’t worry about who I am little girl. But if you don’t want your friend or yourself harmed, come with me without a fight. My orders are to bring you in, but it doesn’t say in what condition it has to be in.”

  Crap. My father. Walking backwards slowly, I look at Celeste and see the fear in her eyes, but I also see determination. She is a fighter. So, her instinct will be to fight, and I don’t want her baby harmed. However, I have my own baby to think about to and anything to do with my father, cannot be good. It’s then I remember the panic room in the kitchen.

  “Celeste, get up please. We have other lives to think about here.” I don’t want to tell her the plan with him staring at me ready to attack, but I need her on her feet. I look around my back, for the vase I just bought from Tiffany’s. I remember the sales lady saying “it may be light, but its sharp as a serrated blade. Be Careful when handling it.”

  When I finally make it beside Celeste, I grab her arm, swipe the vase and throw it at his head. Landing the shot and pulling Celeste with me through the foyer, over the formal dining area, down the split staircase, and into the kitchen. I hit the panic button which is supposed to release the latch for the secret door, but it doesn’t work. I hit again as I start panicking because I can hear him rousing in the other room and I know it is a matter of seconds before he is on us.

  When the door doesn’t open still, I grab her and start running for the back door. Before we can make it there, he jumps in front of us and we go screaming through the house. I have no fucking clue what to do now. Celeste stops on our way back through the kitchen to grab a few knives off the counter and I follow suit. When we hit the living room, he once again comes upon us and it hasn’t escaped me on how well he seems to know the layout of the house.

  “What do you want? Who do you work for?”

  “Stop fucking asking me questions. I am running out of patience with you. Walk out the damn door with me or next time I will shoot.”

  I immediately start thinking about Celeste, her new life, and I know the only thing to do is to go with him. At least she will be here to tell my brothers what he looks like.

  “Fine. I will come with you. Ok.”

  “Phoenix no. You don’t have to do this.”

  “Yes, I do.” I say looking at her stomach and back up to her face. I know she understands, but it is hard for her to admit defeat and I know this. I walk to the door with the guy and right when I get into arms reach of him, he snatches me while raising his gun. Before I can scream out, he pulls the trigger and I see Celeste hit the ground. Screaming at him, I try to pull away to go to her. He hoists me onto his shoulder and starts for the door.

  “CELEST
E… NOOOOOO…CELESTE…YOU BASTARD…I CAME…I CAME WITH YOU…YOU SON OF A BITCH…WHYYYYYY…CELESSSSSSSSSTE.”

  I know somewhere in my head that it won’t do any good, but I beat him on his back repeatedly. Sobbing and screaming as I picture my friend’s body lying on the floor of my living room, with her baby bleeding out. When we reach the car, he stuffs me in it, but not before placing a cloth that smells suspiciously like almonds over my mouth before everything goes black.

  Wow. This room is so beautiful and bright. I love the animals on the wall. The little roses painted throughout and the giant crib-mobile hanging. Oh my gosh. It’s a baby’s room. Walking towards the crib, I see it is empty, but before I can freak out, I realize my stomach is the size of a watermelon. My baby is safely inside me… unlike…oh god…

  “Little Phoenix. Not so little anymore. Wake up. Open your eyes malen’kaya ptitsa.” Oh no. Though my eyes are not open, I would know that voice and that pet name anywhere. Please God let this be a nightmare… please…no.

  “I can see your awake. Open your eyes, my little bird.”

  Whack

  He slaps me so hard my head snapped back. The burning in my cheek radiates over my whole head giving me an instant headache. My teeth rattle and for a second, I am sure they will shatter from the impact. The ringing in my ears is almost deafening as well. But the fear, the fear of knowing who has captured me is what is more prominent. This man has been the monster in my nightmares since I was a little girl. With Mikhail, I thought I had finally outrun them since I started talking about them but knowing that once I open my eyes he will be in front of me, I now know it was all a lie. I am so startled my eyes pop open and there, right in front of my face stands OMO, Old Man Olaf, my tormentor.

  “My little bird. Look at you. All grown up now aren’t you. I knew you would grow up to be a beauty. All that red hair, and those beautiful gold eyes, teasing me, begging me to make you my special little bird. Then poof, you disappeared one day and all my special plans for you went out the window. But now look at us, once again face to face, except this time your all grown up and if my intel is correct, you’ve had a man between your legs. So now, you should have no problem taking me. Right little bird?”