by Roxie Rivera
When I got home, the house was dark. I switched the security system to the at-home setting, had a cup of yogurt with some raspberries and blueberries mixed in for a quick dinner and trudged upstairs to shower. Tonight was Sergei's late night at the gym when he sparred with one of the fighters Ivan was taking to that big mixed-martial arts tournament in Vegas.
As I swiped a lathered sponge up and down my arms, I suddenly remembered that Sergei would be out of town the first week in October. He was going as Ivan's backup coach for the tournament. I already dreaded telling him about the meet-up Mama wanted to have with Adam Blake. I had a bad feeling he was going to get all alpha-crazy when I told him that he couldn't come as my bodyguard.
Not wanting to go down that road, I let my thoughts take a different turn. Standing under the pounding stream of hot water, I slid my hands over my changing body. Heavier and fuller, my breasts weighed down my hands in a way I hadn't expected. My nipples were so sensitive lately. I had even switched out my usual bras, opting instead for seamless cups and no underwire. Curious, I slid my hands down my ribs to belly.
While I had always had a curve to my tummy, this new roundness was firmer. I put both hands on my stomach and outlined the bump there. With twins growing inside me, I was showing much earlier than most women would, even with my plus-sized body. Vivian had managed to keep her pregnancy a secret until late July when she and Nikolai had announced their news to all of their friends at a cozy dinner party, but now halfway through it, she could no longer hide the truth with loose tops or big handbags. On her petite frame, every pound showed so easily.
Running my soapy hands over my belly, I wondered when I would experience quickening. All the books said it was coming soon. With two babies dancing around in there, would it feel stronger? I still marveled at the idea of two tiny lives existing inside me. Some days it felt so surreal I could hardly believe it.
After toweling off and going through my normal moisturizing routine, I slid between the sheets without putting on a stitch of clothing. Naked in our bed, I was insanely aware of Sergei's scent lingering on his pillow and the sheets. Because I had been advised to be careful, we hadn't been intimate since the night had proposed to me, and it was really starting to wear on my nerves.
I had been cleared for sex two weeks ago, but Sergei still refused to touch me. He seemed convinced that what had happened was his fault. I had tried and tried to explain to him that the hematoma happened during conception, but he wouldn't accept that. For some reason, he seemed determined to punish himself—and me.
Alone in the house and starting to experience those stirrings in the feminine center of me, I let my hand drift down my body. I hadn't needed to bring myself to orgasm since that night Sergei had kicked down my front door. He had always been too happy to help me find release, but if he wasn't going to lend a hand? Well…I would just have to make do with fantasy.
Eyes closed, I tried to replace the feel of my hands with his, but it wasn't possible. My hands were so much smaller and softer. When Sergei touched me, those long, thick fingers of his seared my skin. He had rough fingertips that awoke every nerve-ending and left tingling swaths on my body. His big hands squeezed and caressed me like no others ever had or would. He owned me—with his kisses and his touches and the gentle way he whispered my name while fucking me like some feral beast, always harder and faster and rougher than I had ever imagined enjoying.
Lightly pinching my nipples, I remembered the time he had straddled my waist after making me come. He had slipped his cock between my breasts. His shaft had still been slick and shiny with the wetness of my arousal. He had pressed my breasts together, creating a tight furrow that he thrust his cock between again and again.
The handful of lovers I had had before him had never dared anything so brazen. Sergei didn't let a silly thing like modesty or propriety stop us from having fun. Nothing was taboo to him. He encouraged me to let loose and try new things. As of yet, I hadn't been disappointed.
When I had opened my mouth and let him bump that blunt crown against my lips, he had gone crazy. Thrusting faster and harder, he pressed my breasts together even tighter. I had scratched my nails down his thighs until he shuddered and panted. He had dropped forward then, pressing his cock between my lips to thrust against my tongue. Two snaps of his hips, and he had gifted me with burst after burst of his cum.
I had still been swallowing down his essence and wiping the traces from my lips when he had turned toward my feet and planted his knees next to my shoulders. Shoving my thighs wide apart, he had attacked my pussy from an angle I hadn't expected. I had come so hard I nearly blacked out.
Remembering the way his tongue had moved between my folds, I slid my fingers through my wetness and swirled them around my clitoris. The little nub ached and throbbed. Running my fingers down my slit, I played with my opening but didn't penetrate myself. My fingertips returned to that spot that gave me so much pleasure. Imagining my fingers belonged to my soon-to-be husband, I moaned his name. "Sergei."
A rough growl echoed in the stillness of the house. Gasping, I bolted upright and nearly died from embarrassment. With his wide shoulders filling the doorway of our bedroom, Sergei watched me with heavy-lidded eyes. He ran his hand down the obvious outline of his erection that strained against his jeans. "Don't stop on my account."
Torn between mortification at being caught masturbating and the desperate need to finish, I fell back to against my pillow and rubbed my clit. If he wanted a show, I was damned well going to give him one.
Chapter Nine
Sergei didn't think he had ever seen anything more erotic than Bianca playing with her pussy. Her delicate fingers traveled through the slick folds of her cunt, gliding in the shiny wetness that coated her soft flesh. The scent of her arousal saturated the air and made his cock pulse. Balls aching, he watched her flick her clit.
It occurred to him that he had been uncommonly selfish by denying her what she so obviously needed. Even after her doctor had given them permission to resume their normal bedroom activities, he had held back. An irrational fear that he would hurt their babies had scared him and left him feeling uneasy. Watching her now, he couldn't remember why the hell he had allowed himself to be so easily convinced that making love to her was dangerous.
She needed him. She wanted him. He had sworn to make her happy, hadn't he? He was damned well going to make good on that promise!
Toeing off his sneakers, he kicked them aside and strode toward the bed. He peeled out of his shirt, unzipped his jeans and shoved them down his hips. His boxers followed along with his socks. Bianca kept circling her clit while she watched him strip. Ruddy and throbbing, his cock stood at attention. He would get his satisfaction soon enough, but this was all about her.
Sliding down onto his stomach, he clasped her inner thighs and nuzzled between them. The familiar scent of his woman made his body hum with desire. Wanting a taste of all that pink, he wasted no time teasing her tonight. With the pointed tip of his tongue, he swiped her slit from the opening to the very top and then back down again. She howled and rocked her hips for more.
Happy to indulge, he explored Bianca's pussy with his tongue, driving her wild in the process. Her taste had shifted to something sweeter and thinner. He couldn’t get enough. Probing her, he flicked and fluttered his tongue in the ways that made her cry out and thrust her cunt against his mouth. When he suckled her clit, she almost shot off the bed. She came crying his name again and again, but he wasn't done with her, not even close.
He lapped at her clit, humming against that tiny pearl and swirling his tongue around it. Her breaths deepened, and her voice started to climb that octave that told him she was close again. He let one of his hands ride the curve of her belly to settle on her breast. Palming her supple flesh, he found her nipple and pinched the dark peak until she screamed his name. He smiled triumphantly and licked and licked until she threaded her fingers through his hair, grabbed a handful and tugged him away from her pussy.
He wiped his mouth on her inner thigh and nipped at her soft skin. She gasped but didn't pull away from him. He loved when she was like this. On one hand, she was overwhelmed by pleasure and couldn't take any more. On the other, she was still hot and aching. Lucky for her, he knew exactly what she needed.
Sergei kissed his way up her body, dotting his lips against her thighs and lower belly and around the swell of her stomach. He couldn't quite believe she was already a third of the way through the pregnancy. His hand curved protectively over the small bump. Holding her gaze, he promised, "I won't hurt you."
Her expression softened. "I know that."
"I'll be gentle."
Seeming to understand that he was saying these things more to remind himself than her, Bianca sweetly caressed his face. "Make love to me, Sergei. I need you."
He pushed up on to his knees and placed a steadying hand next to her arm. They traded increasingly passionate kisses. Their tongues darted in and out of each other's mouths, flicking and touching and stoking a fire that threatened to burn them both right up. He nibbled her lower lip, and she sucked his.
Thrusting his hips forward, he rubbed the rigid length of his cock against her hot pussy. She groaned and wrapped her legs around his waist. Pressing her heels into his backside, she dragged him closer. "Please, Sergei."
Loving the way she begged for his cock, he took his shaft in hand and guided it down to her sopping wet entrance. Because it had been awhile, he didn't try to bury himself in her on one thrust. He took his time with her, gliding in a few inches and retreating and then sliding back inside even deeper. She clutched at his sides, her beautifully manicured nails digging into him, but he didn't mind. He relished the sting.
Capturing her mouth, he rocked into her. Feeling the curve of her belly between them, he recognized the days of enjoying sex in this position were numbered. He stabbed his tongue between her lips and let his hands roam her body. He couldn't get enough of her lush curves. Gazing into her dark eyes, he lost himself for a moment. Erotic and breathtaking in her beauty, she enthralled him like some mythical creature. In her, he had found his reason for living. She was everything to him—his lover, his friend, the mother of his children.
Home. He chased the buzzing feeling building low in his stomach. She feels like home.
After leaving his family and his country in a bid for survival, he had always felt like an outcast. He was part of Nikolai's family, but that wasn't real. It wasn't love. It was blood and pain and violence. What he had with Bianca was the complete opposite. She was the antidote to the poison of the mobbed-up hell he had been forced to live for too long.
"I'm coming," she whispered on a shocked gasp. "Sergei!"
Burying his face against her throat, he plunged in and out of her while her slick pussy gripped and released his cock. He welcomed the shuddery rush deep in his belly. Toes curled, he climaxed with a sound close to a sob. Bianca rubbed the back of his neck and scratched idly at his scalp while he slumped against her, not yet wanting to move away from her womanly softness.
Eventually, he dropped onto his side and curled his arms around her. She snuggled in tight, burrowing into him and seeking the heat he happily shared. Too damned spent to reach down to grab the sheet, he slung a leg over both of hers and pulled her in even closer. She drew shapes on his chest and kissed his skin every now and then
"Sergei?"
"Yes?"
"What happened to the Night Wolves?"
He stiffened at the mention of the racist gang who had tried to kill Bianca earlier in the summer. They had made the mistake of threatening Vivian while they were at it. The boss had answered their threats with violence unlike any that crew had ever known. He had wiped them off the city map, leaving only three of the original gang still standing. Maimed and broken, they had escaped the Feds who had rounded up their friends and now lived as a warning to anyone else who tried to cross Nikolai's family and the ones he protected. Despite no longer being part of the inner circle, Sergei had heard that a larger organization, one not prone to such stupid acts of senseless racist violence, was making inroads. Whether that was true or if they had the boss' blessing to do business in Houston, Sergei didn't know.
Lifting his head, Sergei frowned at her. "Why are you asking about them?"
Bianca nervously tapped her finger against his chest. She avoided his gaze. "Well…"
Worried, he pressed her down onto her back and loomed over her. "Why are you asking about those assholes?"
"Adam Blake contacted Mama. He wants to meet with us."
His jaw dropped. "For what?"
"He wants to apologize."
"Apologize?" Sergei laughed harshly. "He killed your brother and beat you bloody, Bianca. There is no apology in the world that makes up for that."
She sat up and frowned at him. "Maybe he's changed. Maybe he really wants forgiveness."
Sergei made a choking noise. "Forgiveness?" He sneered the word. In case she had somehow forgotten, he repeated, "He killed your brother. He left you bleeding and broken in the stockroom of a convenience store. He—."
"I was there, Sergei," she snapped angrily. "I remember vividly what happened. You don't need to rundown the details for me."
His chest tightened at the pain etched into her face. Touching her arm, he shook his head. "You can't actually believe he means any of this, Bianca."
"What if he does?" She gulped nervously. "When Derek had me tied up in the back of the shop, he told me his brother had changed. He told me that was why he wanted to hurt me. He hated me for making his brother weak."
Guilt and shame tore at Sergei. The memory of how close he had come to losing Bianca burned through him like acid. It was a failure he had sworn never to repeat.
"Mama has already agreed to go. She asked me if I would come with her to meet him, and I said yes."
Shocked that she would be so reckless, he growled, "No."
She scowled at him. "Yes."
"No." He slashed his hand through the air. "This isn't up for debate. You. Are. Not. Going."
"My mother is going so that means I'm going with her. This isn't your decision to make."
"The hell it's not!" He gawked at her. "Tell me you are not this blind, Bianca. Don't you understand how dangerous this is? You will be walking into a fucking prison filled with murderers and rapists—"
"Who are all behind bars," she hotly retorted.
"And that means you'll be safe? Is that it? What about the parking lot? What about the road to the prison? What about the guards? Do you have any idea how fucking easy it is to buy someone?"
"How is any of that different than me spending time with your old friends or with Vivian? Huh? Ten? Ex-con. Ivan? Ex-con. Nikolai? Ex-con."
"That's different!"
"Why?"
"Because they don't want to kill you! They don’t want to hurt you. If you go inside that prison, you are totally exposed."
"Why do you always have to focus on the very worst possibility?"
"Have you forgotten what happened to my brother and his family? Have you forgotten what I used to be?" He held up the hands that had hurt so many. "These hands have only touched you with love but they beat other men. They caused pain and destruction. I know, Bianca. That's why I focus on the worst possibility."
Staring at his hands, she swallowed. "Ten warned me that what you had done wouldn't wash off."
Sergei vowed then and there to kick that tattooed bastard's ass from one end of Houston to the other. "What else did he say?"
"That we wouldn't get to ride off into the sunset together," she confessed. "That you would never truly be out."
Irritated by the ugly reminder of the reality of their situation, he crossly replied, "You should be glad I'll never free then. Since you're so keen on making lunch dates with prisoners, you need all the favors I can get."
Bianca surprised him by snatching up her pillow and hitting him with it. "Stop be
ing so nasty about this."
Taking the pillow from her, he tossed it aside. "You need to stop being so naïve. This is exactly why I don't like that support group. They've got you all twisted up. They've convinced you that you owe forgiveness to these monsters who stole from your families."
"Stop!" Bianca snarled the word. "You do not get to sit there and talk trash about the support group. You're the one who is all twisted up with rage and anger toward dead people. You hate the criminals who slaughtered your brother and his wife and their daughters, but you know who else you hate? You hate your brother for being stupid and putting your family in that position. You hate him for getting you all tangled up in the mob." She jabbed an angry finger at him. "You're the one who needs to learn some forgiveness."
Sergei clenched his teeth together so hard he expected them to shatter. Flayed by her words, he loathed himself for exposing his weakness to the only person in the entire world who could hurt him. He didn't give two shits what anyone else said to him or about him but Bianca? Her disappointment and anger cut him right down to his soul.
Sliding off the bed, he reached for his discarded boxers and hopped into them. "You aren't going to this meeting. End of fucking story."
"Wrong." Bianca clambered off the bed. "You don't get to tell me what I can and can't do. I'm not Vivian. You're not going to keep me locked away in a golden cage like Nikolai does."
"Is that what you think?" He snorted derisively. "Do you have any idea what sort of trouble her father has caused down in Mexico? Do you know what those people will do if they get a hold of her? What they will do to the baby? They nearly killed Besian Beciraj a few weeks ago. They put a bullet through his chest—and he's a boss. He's one of the hardest, most dangerous men I have ever met, and they nearly took him out." Shaking his head, he added, "I would have thought the taste Derek Blake gave you would have been enough to help you understand what's at stake."
She tried to hide her fear but he could see it plainly. "This isn't about Vivian and Nikolai. It's about us. I mean it, Sergei. You don't get to make decisions for me."