29

Lucy
I was a fool. I was a fool to hope and wish and expect Ravil to show up at the ultrasound yesterday even though he didn’t answer my text.
And I’m an even bigger fool now.
But I don’t care.
The pain I felt when he didn’t come, the emptiness, made it all too clear.
I don’t want to do this alone.
Ravil is my baby’s father, and he’s going to be a damn good one. The evidence of that was everywhere, I just was too judgemental to see it. The loyalty of his men speaks to it. The way he handled the teenager in the pool. The soccer kid in the elevator. The way he’s supported and invested in all the businesses of his tenants.
And the most obvious-the way he treated me. Even as his prisoner, he treated me like gold. I was a pampered princess in that penthouse.
But that’s not why I’m going back.
I miss Ravil. I miss his touch. I miss his affectionate smile. I want to know him better, without judging this time. I want to hear about his awful childhood and comfort him instead of setting off his defenses.
I want to give something back to him after all he’s given to me.
I love him.
That’s reason enough.
No, he may not be the partner I would’ve picked if I got to pick a man out of a catalogue, but he’s perfect for me. I can’t imagine a man any better.
And I’m going to go get him.
With my suitcase packed, I take a cab to the Kremlin. It’s past nine and dark out, the city lights flashing on the windows as we drive by. I get out and pay the cab and walk into the lobby.
I don’t recognize the guard at the door. He has tattoos on his forearms, and he looks scary as hell. I swallow and lift my chin.
“I’m going up to the penthouse,” I tell him, trying to breeze past.
“Show me your keycard,” he says in a thick Russian accent.
I stop. Dammit. The upper floors require keycard entry to access in the elevator. Of course, I don’t have one. I lift my chin. “Tell Ravil I’m down here. Tell him I won’t eat until he comes to get me.”
The guy frowns. “Get out.”
Okay, apparently, he doesn’t know this baby is Ravil’s.
I pull out my phone. Fine. I’ll call Ravil myself. Not that I’m sure he’ll even answer.
Crap.
He doesn’t.
“Out,” the guard repeats.
A heavy hand drops on my back. “Oh!” I startle and turn around. Oleg is standing there. He must’ve come in behind me. “Oleg! Zdravstvuyte,” I say, as if by speaking Russian, I’ll magically be able to communicate with him.
He picks up my suitcase and pushes gently on my back, directing me toward the elevator.
The guard says something to Oleg in Russian, and the giant nods without looking back, propelling me gently away from him. We get in the elevator, and I blink up at him.
“Thank you. Blagodaryu vas.”
He doesn’t nod or do anything but stare blankly back at me. If I didn’t already trust the guy, I’d find being alone in an elevator with him extremely intimidating.
He opens the door to the penthouse.
Everything is as normal-Dima, Nikolai and Pavel lounge in the living room, the television on.
Except then I see Ravil standing at the bank of windows that overlook the water. Staring out at the blackness.
Pavel sees me first and lunges for the remote, turning the television off. “Did you go and get her?” he asks Oleg, as if in awe.
Ravil turns around. The moment his eyes land on me, he says, “leave us,” and everyone in the room evacuates.
His expression is dead. Blue eyes cold.
“Why are you here?” he demands.
Okay. So much for a warm welcome. He must be angry over the arrests, then.
Normally, I’d put a little more starch in my backbone to square off against my adversary. But I don’t want to be adversaries anymore. I want us to be lovers. Partners.
So I say, “I had a craving for perogies.”
It doesn’t soften him. “I’m sorry. I think we’re all out.”
My stomach twists, and Benjamin kicks back.
He walks slowly toward me, and as he does, I see his expression isn’t cold. It’s tortured. He has dark circles under his eyes, and he hasn’t shaved in a couple days, at least. “I let you go, Lucy. You shouldn’t have come back.”
I blink back tears. What is he saying? He doesn’t want me anymore? Actually, he’d never said he did-he’d just wanted the baby. But he’d acted like he did. Had I read it all wrong? “Maybe…” I struggle to control the wobble in my voice. “Maybe I didn’t want to be let go.”
He comes closer. His expression is shadowed with pain. “Don’t say it if it’s not true.”
“It’s true.”
He stops in front of me, taking in my suitcase, which Oleg left out here. He reaches out and brushes his knuckles across my cheekbone. “I won’t settle for partway. I want all of you.” Pain radiates from him.
I reach out and cup his cheek. “I’m here, Ravil. This is where I want to be. With you. Raising our son.”
Ravil lets out a wounded sound and attacks my mouth, his lips and teeth and tongue devouring me with a searing kiss. “Are you sure?” He scoops me up, honeymoon style, even though I’m way too big now.
“I need you,” I tell him.
His smile is feral. He carries me to his bedroom and kicks the door open. Deposits me on the bed.
“I missed you,” I tell him as I pull off my maternity top.
“I fucking died without you,” he swears, helping me slide off my yoga pants.
“I love you, Ravil.” There. I told him. No more holding back. It’s long past the time for vulnerability.
He stops what he’s doing as if he’s listening to be sure he heard me right.
“I love you,” I repeat.
“Ya lyublyu tebya. I’m fucking crazy about you. I’ve been crazy about you since the moment I saw you in that red dress at Black Light. You know something?” He trails kisses up the outside of my arm.
“What?”
“I had a plan that night. I didn’t think you’d get paired with me by the roulette wheel because I don’t believe in luck.” He gives me a wicked grin. “I believe in plans. And my plan was to pay off the man lucky enough to be paired with you.”
“But I landed on you,” I say with a smile, remembering how horrified I’d been.
“Yes, my Lady Luck,” he says, referring to the name I’d taken for the night.
“You frightened me at first,” I admit. “Only because of the tattoos. But you knew how to handle my nerves. You were wonderful. Exactly what I needed.” I slide my hand over my baby bump.
He kisses it. “Exactly what we both needed.” He spreads my legs and drags his tongue through my folds. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to the ultrasound yesterday. I just didn’t think I could handle seeing you. I was too broken.”
I catch his head and massage his scalp.
“Was he perfect?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“I will come to the next one.”
“I’m having this baby at home. In the tub. With you.”
Ravil smiles. His face has transformed from the haunted mask in the living room. Now he appears almost boyish. “You don’t have to, kotyonok. I was never going to force it. I was pushing your boundaries, that’s all.”
It all settles in. Ravil’s grand bluff. I think some part of me knew it all along. It’s why I wasn’t scared of him. How I knew I was safe, and he’d take care of me. Why I didn’t rebel. He was toying with me. But my needs, my happiness were never at stake.
“I want to. I think it will be perfect.” I gasp and catch Ravil’s head again as he flicks his tongue rapidly over my clit.
“Anything you want,” he says. “I mean it. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give you.” He lifts his head. “Except for your freedom.” His blue eyes shine with wicked promise.
“How about perogies?”
“I’ll have them made for you by midnight.” He stands and reaches for his phone.
“No, no-wait. Sex first. Then food. They’re closely tied, but I need you first.”
His smile is so warm it heats my entire body from the inside out. “You need me?”
I nod. “Please. Pozhaluysta.”
He quickly strips out of his clothes, holding my gaze. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” He kneels on the bed behind me. “Hands and knees.” He gives my ass a swat.
Satisfaction ricochets through me. Like I’d forgotten in such a short time how much I liked his dominance, but my body hasn’t. It celebrates the spank. The heat and tingle of the print he surely left on my skin. The shock of sensation. The surrender, knowing he’s in charge now, and whatever he chooses will be amazing.
I climb onto my hands and knees, and he enters me from behind. He steadies me with one hand on my hip as he wraps the other around my long hair. “I never liked missionary, but I would’ve picked it this time if we could.” He tugs my hair back to lift my head. “After Benjamin comes, I will put you in every position possible,” he promises.
He pumps in and out, gathering steam, then rolls me to my side, catching my face between his fingers. “I need to see this beautiful face,” he says. “I want to watch you come, kitten.”
I grab his firm ass to help slam him in deeper, harder. My nails score his skin.
He snarls and leverages higher over me, pressing my top knee to my shoulder. It’s delicious. Deep and perfect. And then he starts rubbing my clit.
“Pozhaluysta, pozhaluysta,” I moan.
Ravil roars and slams in deep, rubbing faster against my clit with the tip of his finger. I come at once, waves of pleasure rolling over me, bathing me in love, in contentment, in warmth.
“I love you, Lucy. I love your adorable American accent. I love that you started learning Russian the day I moved you in here.” He nibbles my shoulder. I turn my face up to pull his mouth down for a kiss. “I love your strength. Your perfectionism. Most of all, I love it when you submit.”
“I love it when you master me,” I whisper. Words I never thought I’d say. But so true. He’s the conquering Viking who carried me off. And I’m the heroine who let herself be claimed-but not without struggle. And in the end, like in any good Viking romance, I brought the bad-ass hero to his knees.