Anatoli
I was sixteen when Leif told me about my parents’ affair. That was the gritty part of my past he wanted to leave for last.
He told me my father would see my mother every time he had business in Russia.
I never saw him, or them together, but I’d had suspicions long before I was twelve. I remember her acting like she did whenever she had a new man in her life.
The last time they saw each other was serious.
Serious enough for my mother to tell me who I really am and who my father was. She wanted me to meet him.
That was mere days before she died. I remember us speaking about it over breakfast that day, then by nightfall we were on the run.
Mira continues crying so I reach for the box of tissues at the end of the coffee table. I give her the whole box and when she takes out a wad of tissues, she breaks down.
“I’m so sorry.” She dries her tears and tries to compose herself. “I promised myself I wouldn’t fall apart. Especially when I knew in my heart it had to be that. What else would make a woman come clean with such a truth? Then Evgeni killed her for it, and chose to live with me. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all his fault.” I feel strange comforting her, as if I’m betraying my mother, but I’m compelled to say something to console her. “Not yours.”
“I still feel terrible. And like such a fool for thinking my husband was true to me.” She wipes her face again and sets her shoulders back. “Thank you for being honest with me.”
“That’s okay.” Deciding to change the subject, I think of the things I spoke to the family lawyer about that involve her. Everyone is still waiting to hear my plans, but as she’s here we can talk about what I’m doing with the assets that affect her. “I won’t be doing anything much with some of your assets.”
“Oh my. I haven’t even thought about that. Do I still have a home to go to? I’ve been staying at a country house my family own just in case. I wasn’t sure what you were going to do.”
“You can keep your home. I won’t be touching your personal assets or anything you held jointly with my father either.”
“Thank you, I’m very grateful.”
Of course she’s fucking grateful. The house and the assets combined are worth several million. I’ll bet she imagined me throwing her out on the street. That’s what I thought I’d do too.
I don’t know if I’m acting like a chump by not doing it, but I decided I wouldn’t because of Leif.
I search Mira’s eyes and wonder if she knows about the vineyard or the original plans for Avrora. Of her three children, Mikhail seems closest to her, but there’s that old adage of keeping women out of business.
In the Knights, women are expected to be submissive and subservient, treating their husbands like masters. The only place I’d want to treat my woman like that is in the bedroom where she can worship my dick.
“Is it okay to ask about Avrora?”
“She’s fine.” I try to say that as succinctly as possible so she doesn’t prod.
But either Mira doesn’t notice the hint, or she does and is taking the risk, because she looks like she’s gearing up to ask me more questions.
“This is going to be hard for her.”
“Because of Mikhail?” I fill in, using the same concise tone.
“He’s just one very important element of her life. I’m sure you must have done your research on her background.”
“I have.”
“She’s been like a daughter to me and I’ve been many things to her, so I know how she must feel.”
“And how do you think she feels?” If she knows what’s good for her she’d better not tell me some fucking lovey-dovey shit about how much Avrora loves Mikhail. If she does, I won’t hesitate to tell her that Avrora’s tight little pussy tells me otherwise.
“I think Avrora feels like her world has been turned upside down.” Her expression softens. “She’s just a girl who’s been through a lot. I’ve watched her go through real pain and suffering. And I’ve watched her overcome grief. She wants to be a therapist and work with children, pretty much like I do. Except she has real life experience.”
“I will bear that in mind.” I try to sound as polite as I can given the awe in which she speaks of Avrora.
“Thank you. I felt you needed to understand her a little more in case she needs to lean on the people she’s grown up with. Like me, or Mikhail. We’re like her family. Mikhail was almost her husband. That’s going to mean something to her too. They have an attachment.”
I bite the inside of my lip. There’s nothing I can say against that because it’s true.
“Well, you’ve given me much to think about.” My voice is stiffer than a freshly cut board.
“Thank you for your time and everything else. I’ll leave you to get back to your busy schedule.”
“I’ll see you out.”
We stand and I lead the way. As soon as we get out into the hallway, hurried footsteps grab our attention. I turn to see Avrora rushing down the stairs.
“Mira,” she calls out, her voice overflowing with emotion.
Her steps quicken and Mira meets her halfway. Avrora practically falls into her waiting arms and I feel like the asshole I am for depriving her of her support system.
At the same time I can’t help but look her over and drink in the little knitted dress hugging her perfect body. She’s wrapped her hair in a bun, showing off her swan-like neck.
I almost had her.
Almost.
I can still feel the tight walls of her pussy wrapped around my dick like a glove.
She was so tight I assumed maybe she and Mikhail might not have been as active as I imagined. Or maybe she’s just naturally tight.
“It’s so good to see you,” Mira gushes, cupping Avrora’s face, showing the mother-daughter relationship they have.
“You too.”
“Are you okay?”
“I am.”
Our girl is more than okay, Mira. I would have given her the chance to come at least twice if we hadn’t been interrupted.
“It would be great to meet up if you’re free.” Avrora glances at me for confirmation.
I stare back, expressionless. I’ve already given the go ahead to see Mira and my terms haven’t changed. She can see her as long as Mikhail isn’t there. It’s simple.
“That would be amazing.” Mira clasps her hands together with delight. “I’m in Russia for a few weeks but I’ll call you when I get back.”
She’s talking heartily but I catch the moment she looks at Avrora’s hair and notices it’s as wet as mine. Wet from the shower I told her I was having. I read into the questioning look that flickers over her face and I know what she’s thinking-that we showered together. Which we did.
Of course there’s every chance we could have been showering separately or Avrora could have washed her hair during the time Mira and I were talking.
But I don’t think she’s thinking any of those things.
If I cared, I might laugh. Mira all but told me Mikhail was the love of Avrora’s life but if I’m right about her thoughts, she must be questioning that love too.
“I can’t wait to catch up,” Avrora bubbles, completely oblivious to the shift in Mira’s focus.
“I’ll see you next week then.” Mira hugs her and looks back at me.
I walk her to the door and let her out. Then I turn back to face my wife-to-be and make my way over to her.
Her expression becomes anxious when I stop too close for her comfort. A shudder brushes over her shoulders as I lean in and inhale her feminine scent mixed with the hint of honey from the shower, along with arousal. It’s a deadly cocktail of sin waiting to be consumed.
I give her one of my ruthless smiles and lean even closer. “Baby girl, next time anyone asks how you are, make sure you tell them how good I take care of you. You would have come all over my dick, if we didn’t get disturbed.”
As expected her cheeks turn crimson. “Do you have to be like that all the time?”
I throw her off by slipping the band from her hair and making a point of watching her wet locks tumble down her shoulders. “I want to fuck you, so yes.”
She recoils at my words. “You are so vile.”
She tries to step away but I grab her arm and pull her to my chest, so she’s pressing up against me like we were in the shower. I move to her ear and her breath catches. “Don’t deny that you want to fuck me too. We came close, so we’re not done yet.”
I’m glad she doesn’t deny it.
“P. S.” I want her to squirm. “Mira noticed your hair was wet, like mine. I told her I just got out of the shower.”
Avrora’s mouth drops and her heartbeat quickens against mine. “That doesn’t mean she knows anything.”
“Oh I think she does.” My don’t-give-a-fuck smile makes her tremble with more shameful humiliation. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll understand. She was young once.”
“You’re just being an asshole. She doesn’t know anything.”
“What if she did? You know it wouldn’t matter, right? You’re mine. Not Mikhail’s. You never, ever were.”
The hurt in her eyes grips me more than it should and I want to grab her and shake her. There’s no question of her guilt, nor the strong feelings she has for her beloved Mikhail. And I despise it.
When she was ready for me to take her, I wasn’t mistaken about the need and desire I saw in her eyes screaming at me to devour her. She wanted me. Then she remembered him and she stopped wanting me.
Or rather, the more accurate description is that she felt guilty for wanting me.
It’s an invisible war of shit. But I know I want her badly enough to fight.
I’m a possessive motherfucker that way. When I came here, it was to take everything, including her. It’s not enough just to take her body. A body is a shell. It’s what’s inside that counts. Those are the parts worth stealing.
We’ll continue our games-her punishment-until we can’t.
Until one of us cracks.
Until I break her and get my dear brother out of her system, or she breaks me by my wanting her so damn much.
“Be ready for me later.” I subsume my wretchedness and leave her staring after me.
While she questions her heart, I question myself.
I’m jealous of what she feels for Mikhail.
That was never part of the plan.
Neither was obsession.