by Kendall Duke
The Bodyguard’s Baby
The Bodyguard’s Baby
By
Kendall Duke
Published by JT Publishing
Copyright © 2019 by Kendall Duke
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the copyright holder.
Printed in the USA by JT Publishing
All material is intended for adult purchase and purview.
Author’s Note
This story picks up immediately after the events of The Bodyguard and The Girl Next Door. This series is meant to be read in order, although each portion is enjoyable on it’s own. This story ends with a cliffhanger that is finished in the series conclusion, the next and final book, The Bodyguard’s Bride.
I slept like a baby that night; I was tender and sore and adored, and I felt every moment of what happened to my body in the most aching, wonderful way. And then I woke the next morning, beside Ivan’s sleeping hulk, and pulled his thickly muscled, ridiculously heavy arm over me and curled up and went right back to sleep. It was lovely.
I woke up shivering at noon, and reality hit me like a ton of bricks. “Ivan?” I sat up and stared at the empty bedroom, the room that was now Ivan’s, the room where I’d… “Ivan?” I kept the thread of panic from my voice, but just barely. I slid off of the bed, leaving the sheets behind me; I’d kicked the comforters off at some point already. I looked back at the bed and remembered the night before, my body flushing with blood at the ecstasy, the shock, and now… Now with the room empty…
I wasn’t going to feel ashamed, damn it. I had nothing to be ashamed of. I threw a towel around my sore body and made my way to the shower, where I rinsed off the evidence of the evening’s events. The big house was silent around me, and that bothered me more than anything. Would things be different between us? Had he left? He said so many things… So many wonderful things. I had to believe he meant them, but then why was I alone? I walked to my room, pulled on some sweats and a hoodie, and went down to the kitchen. If Ivan wasn’t there, I would start calling his cell phone.
We really needed to talk.
Luckily, he was waiting for me, and all of my nervousness flew away when I saw his face; relief crashed over me in a wave. He smiled shyly at me over his bare shoulder as he piled pancakes on a plate, then sauntered to the kitchen table and set it down. “You want?” Ivan’s English was usually more sophisticated; it was the only indication that he was as affected by what had happened as I was, nervousness clipping his words. His eyes sparkled, but they flitted back and forth, as if afraid to look at me too closely.
“Sure,” I said, and sat down. He served both of us from the steaming stack and watched me from under his lashes, those dark eyes now hidden from view. The silence got painfully long. “Um,” I said, putting my fork down, “can we talk about last night?”
“We only wait for phone call,” Ivan said, staring down at his plate. “Then we know you are safe.”
“And Alexei…” I swallowed. My feelings about my former fiancé were a little bit tangled now; I definitely didn’t hate him any more, that was for sure. Ivan’s sharp eyes found mine as I struggled to ask the question. “He wouldn’t… I mean, he’ll do what he said he would do—”
“Yes, of course,” Ivan said, staring down at his plate again. He pushed his food around the edges before sighing and glancing at me. “Unless you regret… Unless you do not feel the way…” He swallowed now too, not wanting to say the rest of the sentence, but I realized what it was and immediately stood up and went over to him. I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling his face up towards mine.
“I meant what I said,” I whispered to him. “Did you?”
“Da,” he said softly, and then he abruptly abandoned his food and swung around in one smooth movement, drawing me into his lap. “Da, milaya, you are mine now. You are mine.”
“And you’re mine?” I leaned back to look him over, taking in his full lips, his flushed cheeks. He meant it. Ivan pulled me against his chest and murmured in Russian to me, sweet whispers that I hardly understood. My love, my dear one, I belong to you, you are mine. You are mine. We rested like that until Ivan swallowed and forced himself to speak. “I was… Do you like Alexei?” A full minute had passed, and he’d clearly been pondering the events of last night. “He said… He was jealous. You very beautiful, my Julie, and you—” He sucked in a breath, refusing to meet my eyes. “You only young girl, but you very good. Very good girl, for me. For Alexei.” His eyes finally flickered towards mine again, searching. “For men like us.”
For dominant men, he meant. That’s what he couldn’t say. I knew immediately that this kind of emotional confession was completely foreign to him, a new world of experiences and desires that was as fresh to Ivan as it was to me. He’d never said these words out loud: I am yours. I was sure of it. He’d never committed to anything besides his family, the hard world of the Russian mafia, and his mission to save my life. Now, he was committed to me.
“Last night was…” I struggled, wondering what to say. He was watching me closely. “I learned a lot about myself. And it’s true—I do like Alexei.” Ivan’s hands clenched into fists and he lowered his head until my hands forced him to stop and look up at me. “But not like that. I would be lying if I said that last night wasn’t amazing.” I sighed. “I am glad it happened—glad that you won’t be worrying about my lack of experience while we’re together, glad that I know more about my own limits, glad that I had you there with me to learn those things. I would never take it back.” I forced his eyes to meet mine. “And I never need to do it again.”
Ivan looked at me, his eyes full of hope. “My Julie, he is still powerful man… If you wanted to be with him, to be with Boss, I—I—”
“But I don’t,” I told him simply, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I want to be with you. Only you. Forever.” I brought my lips up to meet his. His return kiss was almost unbearably sweet.
“Good,” he told me, squeezing my body against his own. “Good, lyubimaya, I have you now, my heart…” His voice once again rumbled into Russian whispers as he kissed my face, his broad hands holding me against his powerful chest as he continued the litany of kisses. I felt my body stirring in response, the bruises from the rough play of the night before began to give way to my startled desire. I hadn’t anticipated wanting him again so soon—my skin was still tender and raw. He sensed my hesitation and pulled back. “My Julie?” His eyes shone with wariness, want and love.
“I just…” He gently readjusted himself; he was already rock hard beneath me, now angling away from my entrance as he listened to my words. “I’m sore, Ivan,” I said, and shrugged, a small smile on my face. “I mean, last night was really intense.”
“Yes,” he said, his eyes clearing rapidly. “Yes, you must rest.” He suddenly stood up and placed me carefully back in my chair before gesturing to the pancakes. “You eat, Julie, then we give you hot bath? Feel better. And we get pizza, have quiet night tonight.”
“But you—” I pointed at his cock, still announcing itself rather pointedly from inside of his sweatpants. “You really don’t want anything tonight?”
“Later,” he said, shaking his head defiantly before sitting back down and eating. “No, I just hungry right now.”
“I don’t believe you,” I said, eyeing him. He adjusted himself and took another bite. “And what do you mean by ‘later?’”
“After you bath, after you eat, rest, then I fuck you.” He said this very
simply, as if I hadn’t been completely plundered in every orifice by two very large Russian cocks less than twelve hours before. “Da?”
“No,” I said, glaring at him. He sucked some syrup off of his finger before raising an eyebrow at me. “I’m sore. I’m tired.”
“Da, yes, this is why bath. Eat, my Julie,” he said, and there was definitely concern in his voice. “Is important you eat.”
“I told you, I don’t want—”
“Tonight I have no choice,” he said swiftly, putting his fork down. He met my eyes with his dark ones, bright and serious. “Tonight I have to fuck you, my Julie. Tonight you are mine. I…” He sucked in a breath as if his chest hurt. “I have to make you mine. After I share you. I have to be with you, or I will lose my mind.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Your body not mine right now,” he said carefully, willing me to understand. “No other man can… I must be only one.”
I reddened under his earnest gaze. “Do you mean, because…” I forced myself to continue, squirming in my seat. The memory did nothing to decrease my desire—bizarrely, Ivan’s total dedication to having me again specifically because another man had… “Because Alexei…”
“Yes,” Ivan said, staring at me. “Ivan finish in my Julie. No one else can finish in my Julie. Never.” He took a deep breath, as if he were fighting off an attack of rage, and tried to calm himself. The effort it took for him to speak rationally was evident in every syllable. “Truth is that Alexei is best friend, do this thing for me, make my life better—because now, I have you. I buy you from him--Alexei make this possible; we only wait for phone call, and then it is over. I know Alexei do this. But your body is mine, Julie—now you are mine. From the minute it over to now, you are mine. I have you. All of my Julie.” His voice was velvet gravel. “Every hole. Every inch. My Julie.”
“…You bought me?” I frowned, thinking about what he’d just said. Last night was hazy. I tried to remember. “Wait, what?”
“Alexei and I share you—not good wife, after all, he tell Sergei.” Ivan shrugged. “But good revenge on father—you…” He thought for a moment, trying to find the right words. “You taken by two of family, sold to me as prostitute.” My mouth fell open as I stared back at him, my stomach rolling. He forged ahead, reassuring me. “You not prostitute, Julie. I know this. Alexei know this. But your father not know this. Sergei cannot know this.”
“If this was the plot all along, did I have to… You know?” I gestured with my hand towards my body, feeling the rush of blood to my cheeks as I remembered their hands, felt their kisses and licks on my body all over again. I’d loved it, actually, although I didn’t want to tell Ivan that—it would hurt him too much, I could see. But I had told him the truth when I said I didn’t want Alexei and I didn’t want to do it again. I also didn’t think much of being a ‘prostitute.’ “Did you want to? Share me, I mean?”
“Is only tolerable because is Alexei.” Ivan waved his hand. “House has camera. Not too many—” I stared at him, open-mouthed, but he shrugged. “I install a week before, only few places—not bedroom—so if Sergei want proof we have it. Alexei suggest this, is good idea,” he said, dismissing my look of shock with a sharp shake of his head. “You not understand Julie. You thinking about sex,” he said, frowning down at his plate. “You must think about life and death.”
Even if this was true, I didn’t have to like it. I leaned back from the table and crossed my arms, feeling defiant. Ivan watched me do it and continued chewing, slowly and deliberately. I stood up, pushing myself away from the table. “I’m going to my room,” I told him, but he snaked out a strong hand and gripped my wrist.
“Julie, you must eat,” he said softly, his voice pleading. His hand encircled my arm without touching it, unbreakable but gentle. “You should rest, have bath—”
“Stop telling me what to do,” I snapped, pulling my arm away. Instead, I had to look up into his face as he rose with it.
“You angry I save your life?”
“You bought me?” I screeched the words, frightening myself. Ivan held my arm tighter as I began to pull on it again. “You think you actually own me?”
“You own me,” he snarled, pulling me right back to him. “You think this is game? This not game. I die for you, Julie. I stay with you, try find way to save you, and you fight me—you force me to find way to keep you alive, way you say you don’t like.” He leaned down, his dark eyes searching mine, the pain on his face undismissable. “I see you. You like it. You like to suck him while I fuck you—you like him cum in your ass. I see it.”
“Yes,” I snapped back at him. “I did.”
Ivan growled, his nostrils flaring. I had liked it—I loved it. I hadn’t understood when Ivan first told me what ‘sharing’ women with Alexei meant, but now I did, and I didn’t see any downside for the women in question. But I didn’t want it again. I was just stung by the incredibly unfair hand fate had dealt me, and even if Ivan had given up a lot of freedom and risked his life by loving me, I wasn’t sure how guilty I felt about that. Should I? Wasn’t love always a risk?
Ivan would understand this once he’d reclaimed his territory, I knew. But I didn’t have to make it easy for him. “Get off of me,” I hissed at him, yanking on my hand again.
His eyes widened. “Nyet,” he growled at me.
I pulled on my hand again, pretending to make for the door, and both of his strong arms flew around me, grabbing me. He held me tight, and then I found myself bent over the kitchen table, the chairs knocked over and Ivan rasping breaths against the back of my neck. I felt exposed already, my bruised ass cheeks stinging as he leaned against them.
And I was wet again. Already. That was all it took. My nipples hardened and dragged on the tabletop, my slit below begged for him to enter its swollen walls. “Vanya…” I heard the desire in my voice, the wish for him, and knew he would too.
“Julie,” he whispered, and licked the back of my neck, his hands still pinning mine to the table top. He waited.
“Do it,” I begged, and before I could move, he ripped my pants down and shredded my panties. I heard them flutter to the floor. A red-hot poker slid against my dripping labia, exploring the damp heat, and I shrieked and lunged. But it was too late; I’d told him to enter me, and he wouldn’t stop now. I felt him slip past my swollen lips and moaned. Ivan gripped the flesh of my nape in his teeth, then plunged inside.
It did hurt. I knew it would. But it wasn’t as painful as I thought—not with my body slick with want and Ivan slowly withdrawing, pulling out, out, out, until only the tip remained, then re-setting his teeth on the delicate skin of my neck as he pushed deep inside me again. I gasped out his name, but he wouldn’t let go of me, keeping part of me in his bite. My hips dug into the table as he reared back and did it again. I gave in and came helplessly as my head bounced on my neck, his strong body plunging deeper and deeper into my bruised cavity, my ecstasy shivering through me, belly to spine, as he buried himself inside. I came without dignity, tears sliding down my cheeks as I moaned his name. It echoed around us in the cavernous house, my pleasure lingering in the sound. Ivan grunted as he fucked me, clenching my skin between his teeth, until my orgasm finally ebbed away and he let go.
“My beautiful Julie,” he whispered, running his hands over my backside as if counting the bruises he’d left there. “Now, I must cum—I must have all this for me, Julie, no memory of anyone else in my beautiful girl.” I prepared myself as he pulled out, bracing my body on my forearms. He hissed as he teased the swollen hole he wanted to fill, the head of his cock far too large to slip inside without effort; he was soaking wet with my juices and slippery enough to slide in, but I was so tight, my body having endured so many epic sessions in this very small place, very recently, for the first time. Finally, he worked the tip inside, kissing me tenderly as he made himself fit. “Uhh,” he groaned, filling me completely. Ivan was bigger than Alexei—I knew that, from the first time he took me from behin
d. But it hadn’t felt like this. I was so raw, so tender—he moved just an inch, and I shuddered. It wasn’t all pain; I felt an orgasm clawing its way to the fore as he used me, claimed my body once more, made me his in every way. I was almost ashamed of how desperate my reaction was, how I bucked just a little bit against him to feel him sink in deeper, to bring him closer to cumming inside me. He whispered my name as he gently fucked me, slowly, making me push back and beg for it before filling me again, tight and full. I screamed his name as he moved again, in and out, deeper this time, searching for the spot where he’d make me his, wholly his, once more. I felt my body fill with his semen and splintered, my orgasm wrecking me, my body sagging against the tabletop as he loaded me with cum. “Julie,” he hissed through his teeth, and then slid out, a messy trail of mingled juices following him.
I couldn’t talk, or stand up, or walk. Ivan effortlessly picked me up in his arms and carried me upstairs, running the bath he’d wanted me to take before. He peeled my clothes off and sat me down in the warm, soapy water, gingerly washing me down, wiping me clean, rinsing the saliva and stickiness off of me. “Mine,” he promised me again, and I felt my heart stutter. To be his was to be wanted, to be adored, cherished and loved. To be Ivan’s was to be taken, roughly, when he needed it—and he always needed it, from me. Ivan was mine, and I was his.
~~~
We spent the next day lazily eating, sleeping, and watching movies. I knew Ivan was ready to make love again, but my body was not ready at all, and after he’d possessed me in the wake of our adventure with Alexei he seemed content to wait. I never thought I would want a man like him—someone so ready to take what they wanted, someone so hungry. I loved him just the way he was. I loved him so much I forgot that our entire future depended on Alexei.
He showed up the day after that. Alexei is gorgeous—auburn curls and dimples, a charming smile that hides his razor-like mind—but to me, there is nothing more beautiful than Ivan, lithe and lethal, dark hair like shredded silk, eyes a color I’ve never seen anywhere else. Ivan was nervous, though, when I stepped forward to welcome Alexei with a chaste kiss on the cheek. “The lovely Julie,” he said, and then grabbed his old friend’s hand and made him shake it, firmly. “It is done, my friend.” The rest was in Russian, but I saw Ivan’s shoulders relax as he waited for the words.