Knocked Up by the Russian (Nikolai Bratva Brides #3)

Chapter 22 - Ivan

Amy's body felt like heaven against Ivan's, warm and soft. He was easily tempted to surrender to her kisses, to lose himself in the way her lips brushed against his. With each gentle touch, she pulled him from the depths of sleep, drawing him deeper into her embrace.

"Ivan," she sighed, her voice a needy murmur that sent adrenaline racing through him. God, this woman. He rolled her under him, careful not to press too hard, and lazily kissed her back. As her pebbled nipples brushed against his chest, he nearly grinned, shifting to nibble a path down her jawline.

Now this is what I'm talking about. If he'd known this was the greeting he'd get when he returned today, he probably wouldn't have left in the first place.

"Did you dress up for me?" he said in a lazy rumble, fingers tracing the edges of her bra. Need thrummed through him, his cock hardening at her proximity as he leaned back to take in the sight of her.

"Yes," she replied quietly, and he took a moment to appreciate the beauty of her spread out before him. Stunning. Silky green lace covered her pussy and breasts, and the air around him almost hummed with desire. But all that need, that want, settled like a stone in his gut when he saw the flicker of anxiety in her eyes. It felt like a reminder of how uncertain everything was between them at the moment.

"Beautiful," he murmured, sitting back on his haunches. When he met her eyes, vulnerability twisted her expression.

He exhaled, running his fingers through his hair. He didn't know what was behind that look, but he didn't like it. The only thing he wanted more than her touch was her trust. Temptation aside, he just wasn't ready to rush things. So he ignored the ache to feel his wife's touch for a little bit longer and let reality push its way to the forefront of his mind again.

"Tell me what's wrong, Mishka?"

"We need to talk. I need to tell you something," she said, her voice trembling. He couldn't help but feel a little apprehension. The seriousness in her tone sent warnings blaring in his mind.

Don't leave me, he wanted to say before she said anything that would indicate that's what she wanted.

"Speak then," he urged, fingers brushing against her shoulder with a gentleness that belied the tension thrumming between them. Her eyes darted to the ceiling and back, hesitation and frustration bubbling beneath her calm exterior.

Indecision flickered through her gaze, and Amy let out a breath, sounding frustrated. Her eyes were on the ceiling, then they fell back to him. "How's the investigation going? We've barely spoken since moving in at the compound."

His heart sank.

"I'm sorry, Mishka," he said softly, genuine remorse coating his words. They hadn't discovered much in the past few weeks. It pissed him off, but he didn't want her to worry, so he hadn't said anything the few times they'd been together. Still, her words from their last argument echoed in his head, and he hesitated, reluctance weighing heavily in his chest. I have to tell her.

"Is there anything new?" she pressed, and he frowned, reluctant to part with the information. Not because he didn't trust her, but because the news would worry her. It's why Mikhail had been here all week instead of helping out with the investigation.

"Ivan?" she urged, and the things they'd said the last time they argued echoed in his head. He'd told her he'd do better, and he meant that.

"Don't tell the others," he warned softly. It wasn't their place if Lev or Mikhail wanted to keep the rest of the house out of the loop. Sometimes, speaking could hurt more than the silence. "But we think it's an inside job. There's just too many things that wouldn't make sense otherwise."

Like the information the culprit had gleaned about Amy and her family.

"Okay," she said on a shaky exhale. Her fingernails dug into his skin, but the bite of pain wasn't as concerning as the worry flashing across her face. This is why I don't tell her these things, he thought, jaw clenching. But how could he say no when their relationship was already as unstable as it was?

Ivan rubbed a bruised knuckle against her cheek, promises aching to spill from his lips—but they were silenced when she pulled herself toward him, kissing him on the mouth.

"Ivan," she murmured, and he hummed under his breath, eager to continue. "Thank you for trusting me with that."

Her words, God, they had the power to shake his entire world. He huffed a laugh, unable to complain. Eager to distract them both, he deepened the kiss, pausing only to brush kisses along her jawline, collarbone… throat. His mouth moved along her neck, and her breath hitched. A moan vibrated against her lips until she settled her hand on his chest, a heavy touch pushing him away. He let her, eyes darkening at the flush spreading across her skin.

He gave her a look of disappointment, his eyes following a path down her body that he wanted to taste. They'd barely been speaking these past few weeks, and falling asleep with her had only been torture when left again in the morning. Something had to end, but he'd been hoping she would be the one to fight for them this time.

"Wait, I'm still busy talking," she replied, reaching for his shoulders, her touch sending warmth coursing through his body, but the words she spoke next left him confused. "I'm not, like, blaming you or anything, but you—you haven't been around... and... and... I..."

Indecision lit up her features, and he leaned back, running a hand through his hair, guilt gnawing at him. "I was trying to give you space."

"Why?" she questioned, pulling his focus to her again. He shrugged, feeling stupid.

"I'm trying to be better, Mishka." It wasn't easy, but losing her would be so much worse.

Her mouth opened and closed, bafflement in her gaze. Then she let out a laugh, pressing up on her elbows to kiss him. "Thank you."

"For?" he muttered gruffly, fingers already hooking on her hips.

"For not trying to control everything," she answered, a bright grin on her face, and something like hope in her eyes. He bent to kiss her again, but she shook her head. "Wait—I seriously need to tell you something," she mentioned, voice breathless.

"Speak then, Mishka, but please… hurry, I need you," he murmured, feeling amused. He pulled away slightly to let her breathe, and pleasure flickered across her face. Ivan grinned; if that was the reaction he got, he'd have to tell her more then.

He liked the sight of her in his old bedroom, her pale skin flushed under the lights. But he thought he might like her better when she was waiting for him in his apartment.

"I—" she started to say, then stopped and licked her lips, leaning back just enough to search his eyes.

"Amy, what is it?" he prompted, a sense of dread creeping in, twisting in his stomach.

Taking a deep breath, she exhaled quickly, a rush of resolve flooding her. "I'm pregnant."

Did she just say—? His heart stopped, his world spinning as her words registered. "What was that, Mishka?"

"I think I'm pregnant," she babbled, interrupting that thought. His eyebrows rose, and she let out a laugh that fell flat as panic crossed her features. "No, well, I don't think I'm pregnant. I know I am. I took a few tests with Mira and Zia, and they all came back positive. I've been waiting all week to tell you, but you weren't here until you were, and then you were asleep, and I didn't know what to say."

He blinked, and Amy squirmed underneath him. She didn't meet his eyes, and that annoyed him on some distant level, but he couldn't quite concentrate because the world around him was spinning in and out of focus. Stunned silence enveloped him, light and heavy all at once.

He blinked, seeking clarity amid the chaos of emotions swirling through him. "You're pregnant," he echoed, his reality spinning on an axis. He couldn't focus. Couldn't think.

"Yes," she breathed, her tone wavering as if she feared what his response would be. "Ivan?"

He instinctively glanced at her stomach, fingers moving over the soft curve. There wasn't any evidence yet, nothing to tell, but soon there would be. So many emotions flickered through him at the thought, leaving him dazed as he looked into her eyes. "Are you… happy about this, Mishka?" he asked, voice thick with emotion.

Her gaze fell, revealing the trepidation hidden behind her excitement. "Are you?" she countered, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Fuck yes," he muttered as his heart ached, torn between joy and fear. Ivan quickly gathered her into his arms, cradling her close. "You're going to be a mother," he murmured against her hair, laughter bursting forth unexpectedly, mingling with disbelief. "We're going to be parents, Amy."

Which raised the question... How the fuck was he going to protect her and their baby? The weight of it all settled around them, and in that moment, despite the uncertainty that lay ahead, he felt a spark of hope blossom within him. This means she's staying, right?

Ivan shoved the uncertainties from his mind, pressing his lips against hers. "No more talking. I need you," he demanded, fingers delving into her panties.

Amy squeaked, her hands shooting to grab his wrist. "Oh, God!"

With his fingers pressed against her heat, he waited for her to shove him away and found himself stunned when pleas dropped from her lips instead.

"Ivan, yes! Please," she babbled, her stomach visibly clenching with her need. Her back arched on the bed, that pretty green lace cupping her breasts.

"Look at you, gorgeous," he crooned as a dark grin flickered across his features. "You dressed up so beautifully for me, I'm almost tempted to leave it all on. Do you want that, Mishka? Or would you prefer my lips on your nipples? I'll make them nice and wet like your pretty pussy."

Incoherent words passed her lips as she rocked against his fingers. He let her control the movement, pleasure sparking in his veins as she did.

"I didn't catch that, love. Try again," he said with a breath, his free hand pushing her thighs open wide as she shuddered underneath him. Her ribcage fluttered with each breath.

"Take it off, Ivan. Please," she whispered, her body writhing.

"I don't know," he teased, eyes caught on the damp fabric drawn tight against his wrist. "We wouldn't want to waste your efforts, now would we?"

"Take them off," she panted, her words coming out on a growl. "You want me, don't you?"

"I need you," he corrected, fingers leaving her wet heat. The words weren't the same. What he had with Amy wasn't the fucking same as what he'd had with anyone else. He needed her like he needed water or air. She sustained him as well as any meal.

"Ivan," she whined breathlessly. "Stop being a brat!"

He grinned, both hands reaching to slide her panty down her legs. "Show me you missed me, Mishka. Bend your legs and let me have a good look at my wife's pussy," he urged after throwing the damp fabric on the floor. His hands pushed against her thighs, urging them open until she widened under his gaze willingly.

To reward her, he bent to kiss her clit, sucking it into his mouth over and over until her fingers ripped at his hair. "That's too much!" she squealed, her knee on his chest. He let out a laugh.

"You know you love it."

"It's too sensitive," she hissed, grumpiness in her expression. He snorted, pulling her into a kiss.

"Am I too much, little bear?" he asked as she undid her bra and then turned her attention to him. Her fingers gripped at his shirt, and he left his arms hanging stubbornly until she turned her spitfire gaze on him.

"No," she answered begrudgingly. "Now take your clothes off."

He did, a wide grin on his face when she pushed him on the bed and pressed kisses to his skin. "I made you pregnant, Mishka," he said as he put his hands on her waist, lifting her until his cock teased her entrance. "You're going to have my baby."

"You did," she replied with a moan as she sank onto his cock. "And I am."

But those words settled between them heavily. Everything had changed. Excitement mixed with trepidation coursed through him, a potent concoction that left his heart racing. The responsibility made his hands shake on her hips. Beneath the waves of desire, worry rippled. His heart thudded in his chest as he lifted her slightly, positioning her perfectly while their breaths mingled and the air thickened with anticipation.

"Faster," he urged, his voice hoarse. Nerves strangled him as he tried to stay focused on the pleasure coursing through them. Amy whined deep in her throat as his hands rocked her at a quicker pace. Her body heat kept him on the precipice while each thrust drove him closer to madness. "Fuck, I need more."

Ivan grappled with the rush of sensations, his thoughts racing with what lay ahead—parenthood, commitment, and the promise of family. It was intoxicating, terrifying. But what the fuck did he know about any of that?

I can be better, he thought, his grip tightening on her. "Just like that," he coaxed, feeling her warmth envelop him, her walls tightening around him as she responded to his rhythm. He watched her face contort with pleasure, her breaths coming in ragged gasps.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his heart swelling with both love and an overwhelming sense of protectiveness.

Amy's eyes sparkled with desire, and he could see her own thoughts racing as the reality of their situation settled in.

"Ivan," she panted, her voice shaky yet fervent, "Don't stop. Please."

Fueled by her words and the heat of the moment, he rolled her onto the bed underneath him and lifted her leg. Each stroke went deep, and she let out a strangled cry as she dug her fingernails into his shoulder. Her pussy fluttered as he rocked above her and Ivan pushed a hand between them, his fingers jerking around until he found her clit.

Her whole body jolted. Amy's face flushed and her mouth opened with a gasp, her legs gripping his waist, narrowing his movements. He pushed past the resistance, rubbing her clit more until she shattered with a high-pitched scream.

He slowed his pace until her body stopped trembling, fingers pinching her chin until their lips met. "More," she mumbled drunkenly, her eyes hazy.

"I'm not finished yet," he answered before picking up his pace again. Desperation turned him into a savage, each thrust echoed with urgency as he lost himself in her. The world outside faded away as pleasure raced up his spine. He poured everything he had into each movement, desperate to show her just how much she meant to him. Gasped her name against her neck, and then came with a choke.

"Ivan?" she murmured as he slowed the rocking of their hips, his cock still pulsing inside her. "Talk to me."

"Just a second," he mumbled, careful not to squish her as he fell beside her. He'd thought he'd come to terms with everything but—shit. What if he wasn't cut out to be a dad? There was only one thing he was certain about, he had to get rid of whoever was threatening his wife and family.