Deceitful Vows (Marital Privileges #2)

78. Zoya

78

ZOYA

A familiar aroma stands the hairs on my nape to attention a second before it engulfs my senses. I must have been in a deep sleep, as the paintings lining the hallway I am being walked down are different from the ones outside Zakhar’s room.

Andrik moved us to a new location not long after my meeting with Henry Gottle Sr.—the boss of all mafia bosses.

The information his grandfather handed him before taking his life exonerated me of any wrongdoing in Yulia’s death. I sent the email warning them of the repercussions if they were to back out of a deal made before Andrik learned of Maksim’s interest in the Myasnikov District, but it was Andrik Sr.’s involvement they paid the most attention to. But Andrik didn’t want to risk any further repercussions occurring in a territory not ruled by him.

I still feel guilty as hell as to what has occurred, though you probably wouldn’t believe me if you saw footage of my last four hours.

Zakhar is my son. My flesh and blood.

I was determined to protect him before I was aware of that, so I can’t pledge that I wouldn’t have taken as drastic of steps as his great-grandfather did if he still needed a new heart.

The reminder prompts me as to why I fell asleep on a rock-hard chair. “Zakhar…”

A stern rumble doubles the output of my heart. “Is safe. He’s resting. Now I need to make sure you’re taken care of the same way.”

After smirking at my fake huff of annoyance, like I’m not loving his endeavor to ensure I am aware of my importance in his life, Andrik walks us into a manly room at the end of a long hallway.

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry when his steps veer us to the bathroom instead of the bed. I feel dirty and gross, but I’m not as fond of bathroom antics as Nikita is.

Mine have always resulted in a negative outcome.

“I—”

“Shh, милая . Not yet. All of that can wait until after I’ve showered you, fed you, and put you to bed.”

Goose bumps break across my skin when he places me onto the vanity a second before his hand shoots down to the hem of the shirt I borrowed from Nikita. His fingertips float over my midsection with a tenderness the agitation in his eyes shouldn’t allow.

He’s been quiet since Zakhar’s blurted confession. I didn’t need words to know Zak was telling the truth. The sheer ownership in Andrik’s eyes told me everything I needed to know.

I am a mother.

The excitement the remembrance blisters through me is shocking. You could only surprise me more if you told me my mother was responsible for this plot twist in my story I never saw coming.

Although my heart hasn’t stopped whacking out a funky tune for hours, it won’t stop me from seeking answers. “How?”

Andrik grunts as if frustrated by my inability to follow orders. I may have believed his dislike if he hadn’t hardened the instant the first syllable escaped my lips.

He waits for my eyes to lift from the protruding rod in his trousers to his face before he says, “I don’t have all the answers yet, милая . I will get them. I promise you that. But I don’t have them yet.”

With nothing but honesty in his eyes, I nod before raising my hands in the air so he can remove my shirt without hindrance.

A hiss of air escapes his lips when he realizes I am braless. “Jesus fucking Christ, милая . You are going to ruin me.”

His eyes lift to my face when I murmur, “I think we’ve already established that… more than once.”

“ Think ?” There’s that arrogant, dominating man I’ve fallen in love with. “Think is a consideration. A doubt. It does not belong between us. But this…”

I dart my eyes to the crotch of his trousers, not wanting to miss the impressive outline of his cock when he grips it.

My stare at his cock doubles the hunger ripping through me, though I barely feel its spasms over the surge that electrifies my heart when he falls to his knees before he presses his hands to my stomach.

“This was always meant to be between us.” He lifts his eyes to mine, full of silent apologies. “I was a foolish, insolent man, милая . I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I don’t deserve you”—his eyes flick in the direction of Zakhar’s room before he returns them to my nonexistent bump—“ any of you. To be asked to give you up will be death worse than a thousand.” Nothing but honesty colors his tone when he says, “It will kill me. But…”—that killed him to say as much as it did for me to hear it—“if that is what you want for our family, I will respect your wishes.”

I gasp in a sharp breath, shocked by his offer. The sentiment in his eyes ensures it can only be read one way. He’s giving me, Zakhar, and our unborn child an out, freeing us from the madness he’s endured for decades with no threat of retribution for my choice.

He is giving us the opportunity to walk away.

I don’t give his offer any true thought. Who in their right mind would? You didn’t see the way he sheltered me when vengeance came knocking, or how mine and our son’s needs were more pertinent to him than revenge.

He’s putting us first—and now I need to do the same.

“What happened to there are no ifs or buts?” I squash my finger to his lips before he can answer me. “I also didn’t sign a prenup, so should you really be giving me an out before you’ve gotten all the bang for your buck? It is too late to negotiate after a deal is done. I thought I taught you that better than anyone.”

He laughs, and the heat of his breaths quickly announces that my panties are soaked. Don’t judge. The man I desire as much as my lungs crave air is kneeling in front of me, mere inches from my pussy. This could only be hotter if I were riding his face like there was still eight seconds on the timer.

I barely press my thighs together when the voice I became obsessed with in under a second adds to the mess between my legs. “ милая … We have much to discuss.”

Andrik is telling me no, but his actions do the opposite. After leaning in close enough to force his shoulders between my thighs, his eyes lower to the large gap my unladylike position involuntarily enforces.

He growls when he spots the wetness the high rise of my skirt can’t hide before he finally answers one of the numerous pleas my hooded eyes are hitting him with. He puts his hands on me.

“Fuck, милая . Is all this wetness for me?”

He steals my lie by backhanding my clit. The frisky slap doubles its manic throbs and has me finally understanding why he walked us to the far side of his mega-mansion.

He doesn’t want my cries of ecstasy to wake our son—because despite our beliefs, sorrow will never rank higher than our needs.

I doubt even grief could touch the surface of how much I crave this man.

“Please,” I beg when his finger only traces the seam of my panties instead of peeling them away from my weeping sex.

He seems hesitant, like there’s a possibility God himself could stop this, but instead of announcing the cause of his worry, he mutters, “Fuck it,” before he lifts his eyes to my face. “Please, who ?”

“ Andrik. Please, Andrik.”

I grunt through the spasms his second growl sluices through my veins. It is as rumbling as the first but without its hesitation.

It rolls through my body like liquid ecstasy, weighing down my limbs as well as his following sentence does. “Their lies couldn’t stop me from wanting you back then, so they don’t stand a chance now either.”

My back arches and my head thrusts back when he sucks my panty-covered clit into his mouth. I shudder through the intensity of his suck as he twirls his tongue around the hardened bud. He toys with my clit until my panties dampen enough to outline every detail of my pussy, and I crumble under the awe of his skills.

Then he does it again—minus interfering panties this time.

“Oh, my sweet милая . Wickedly sexy but with the cunt of a saint. I could eat you for days and it’ll never be enough.”

Andrik places his mouth back on my pussy, and I ride the storm it causes for all it’s worth. As his fingers thrust in and out of me, milking my G-spot, he tongues my clit and swipes at it with his thumb.

Pleasure charges through me as I rest my back on the mirror, needing its coolness to calm the fire raging low in my stomach. I’m burning up everywhere, seconds from a third torrent of ecstasy washing over me.

As he plays at the wetness slicking from my pussy to my ass, Andrik locks his eyes with mine. “Do you have any idea how many times I imagined doing precisely this over the past month?” He rolls my clit with his thumb, stealing any chance of a reply. “I imagined it every day, multiple times a day.” He presses down hard on my clit, magnetizing my thoughts so well that I don’t give his next sentence any real thought. “They convinced me you were my blood, yet I still masturbated about how good you taste every single day.”

I shift my hips upward, mashing my pussy with his face as waves of pleasure cascade around me. I’m mindless with need, spiraling and spasming through the jolts rocketing across my core.

I come again and again until a handful of the tremors shifts to twinges of worry.

Andrik is looming over me, wide-eyed and sweaty. I don’t know where his trousers went. He lost them somewhere between driving me to the brink of climax over and over again to guiding the head of his fat cock between the folds of my pussy.

As he searches my face for any signs of discomfort, he slowly notches inside me.

“Christ.” His cock flexes, and I almost come again. “How did I ever get so lucky? My cock is being gripped by the tightest and tastiest cunt I’ve ever had the pleasure to know.”

He sinks in until the wetness coating his chin slicks the hand wrapped around the base of his shaft. Then, like a light bulb switching on, a desire to claim me as I’ve never been claimed crosses his face.

After freeing his cock from his strangling grip, he thrusts fully inside me with one ardent pump. Tingles spasm low in my womb when the head of his girthy cock rams into my uterus. It is painful, as anticipated, but also euphoric. I’ve never been taken so deeply or roughly.

When I moan through the sensation of being so full, Andrik drags his cock out to the tip before he rams back in.

I grunt, loving how unhinged he is. I feel dirty and wicked, but isn’t that how sex is meant to make you feel? It isn’t purely for conception. Pleasure is very much a part of it.

As is the sensation of being craved.

With every rock of Andrik’s hips, he bottoms out against my uterus and produces frantic grunts from my lips. I love how hard he is taking me, how deep, though not as much as what he says while driving me to the brink.

“He made out your condition was worse than it was. That there was no possibility of you conceiving naturally so you’d never be placed on their list.” His hooded watch is a mix between jealous and relieved. It announces who he is speaking about without his name needing to leave his lips. “Then he removed your donation from the database and had them stored in case you ever wanted to use them in the future.” He fucks me harder. Faster. He reminds me who owns every tremor wracking through my body by commanding every inch of it. “And I almost killed him for it.”

His laugh belongs to a madman, and I can’t get enough of it.

He said “almost.”

That means Dr. Hemway is still alive.

The amount of constraint that would have taken a man as possessive as him is mesmerizing. It doubles the size of the goose bumps breaking across my skin and augments the wave low in my stomach.

“Fuck, Andrik,” I moan as arousal ripples through me.

Tears spring into my eyes, and not because of how deep he takes me. It is the sentiment in the air and how he peers down at me as I come undone in his arms.

It is the affection he portrays. The love.

It is how he will always place me first even when I wish he wouldn’t.

I dig the heels of my feet into Andrik’s ass as a climax bursts through me. My cries of orgasm echo around the bathroom, doubling the speed of his pumps. As I shatter like glass, he continues thrusting into me.

His pace increases with every long plunge until the adoration I’m hitting him with becomes too much for him to bear.

He balances his forehead on mine, aligns our eyes, then sinks in low before giving in to the waves of ecstasy barreling into him.

“Fuck,” he shouts as he fights the urge to still his hips.

He continues rocking, pumping, stealing the last of the air in my lungs. He fucks me wildly and recklessly until stars blister for the second time and I’m on the verge of an orgasmic coma.

“Fuck, милая . ” With sweaty hands, he cups my flushed cheeks and raises my head before pressing his lips to mine. “I knew from the moment I saw you that you were going to ruin me.” He drags his nose down the side of my cheek, stopping my heart. “Yet I still signed up for it like a schmuck with half a cock.”

As his fingertips tickle the backs of my ears, he breathes life back into my body with a heart-stuttering kiss. He licks at my lips and nibbles on my jaw as I fight not to surrender to the madness so soon again after only recently being freed from it.

Regretfully, I am as stubborn as a mule.

Andrik freezes with his tattooed fingers knotted in my hair when I ask, “What did you mean when you said they made out I was your blood?”