Millie
Dinner has finished up, and any coherent conversation has been slowed by the ingestion of alcohol, clearly marking the end of the night for all of us. Even though I haven’t been drinking, just being around two intoxicated individuals makes me feel a bit hazy, and I’m eager to go to bed.
But where is my bed, exactly?
It’s past one in the morning, and I’m exhausted, but I still haven’t even discussed sleeping arrangements with Viktor yet. Even though we’ve had sex, I’d hate to assume that I’m sleeping next to him and have him think I’m a presumptuous, spoiled princess because of it.
“Hey, where do you want me to sleep while I’m staying here?” I ask, clearing the table of any extra dishes and placing them into the sink.
Viktor looks at me suspiciously. “I didn’t think that was up for discussion. You’ll be staying in my room with me,” he replies, and I can feel my belly growing warm at the thought of lying next to him. The thought of having sex while pregnant does freak me out, even though I know there’s no true reason for it to bother me.
I finish cleaning up and follow him to the bedroom, still feeling nervous and uncertain of the idea of behaving like his girlfriend when we’ve hardly even spoken about what we are. I maintain a bit of a distance behind him not to seem too eager, which I sense agitates him.
“Why are you being so weird?” he asks point-blank as soon as we enter the room. He closes the door behind me, and his expression is confrontational and distrusting.
“What do you mean? I’m just trying to get adjusted to everything. We just decided I’d be staying here a few hours ago. I have to settle in a little,” I reply.
He pauses for a moment. “You and Nikolai were getting along well,” he says, and I suddenly feel as if I’m being accused of something.
“Yes, isn’t that a good thing? If he’s going to be here a lot, it makes sense for us to at least be civil, doesn’t it?” I ask.
“Yeah, I guess so,” he replies passive-aggressively.
I wish he would just come out and say it. That way, we could fight about it and move on.
“Are you upset about something?” I ask, leaning forward and studying his scowling face. “I was just trying to be friendly. You can’t be upset with me for being nice.” I’m annoyed that he’s somewhat intoxicated. Having arguments with drunk people is always a circular battle that never ends well.
“I know you used to be a stripper,” he replies with a shrug that betrays the harshness of his words.
There it is.
My stomach drops, and my face turns white. “How the fuck do you know about that?” I ask angrily, crossing my arms over my chest as I recognize my self-consciousness at my past being exposed. I never thought I would have to explain this to anybody. That’s why I started my own business, but I guess I can’t run now.
“That kind of information isn’t hard to find for someone like me, Millie, so you’d better make sure your affairs are in order if there’s something else you don’t plan on being honest with me about,” he replies, his voice weighted by the gravity of his displeasure and drunkenness.
I feel myself growing nervous about Viktor. For someone who hasn’t even asked me to be his girlfriend, he’s being weirdly possessive over me. I haven’t stripped in years, and he’s taking it as some kind of insult to his masculinity.
“Well, I have nothing to hide,” I snap. “I just didn’t think that information was relevant to you since we’re not even dating.”
He’s unfazed by my comment. “Maybe I just need to remind you that you’re too good for all that bullshit,” he replies, and he steps towards me, laying me down on the bed behind me and slowly climbing on top of me.
He lifts my shirt up over my breasts, stroking them lightly. He’s being so much more delicate right now than he’s ever been before, and I never realized how much I craved this kind of drawn-out, sensual touching.
I gasp softly as he leans down and kisses my left breast, then my right. “Nobody else is going to see you like this ever again,” he says, his voice low and smokey.
Working his way down slowly, he reaches my sternum, then my belly, kissing lightly above my panty line and moving over to my hips as he works my pants off completely. I’m trembling now, feeling my pussy growing wet as he lowers himself between my legs.
“I want to be the last person who ever has access to you like this,” he whispers as he puts his lips on my inner thigh, licking and biting lightly as he moves inward toward my pussy.
I can’t hold back a moan as I feel his mouth on me, warming my whole lower body as his tongue moves up my slit. At first, I’m self-conscious that Nikolai will hear me, but there’s something about Viktor claiming me that makes the worry disappear.
He continues kissing and manipulating my flesh with his tongue and lips, and it takes everything in me not to grind myself into his face for more pressure. When he lifts my legs and puts them on his shoulders, he slides two fingers inside of me, pressing into my g-spot as he focuses on sucking my clit.
It doesn’t take long before I start to feel the beginnings of a catastrophically intense orgasm building, and I brace myself against the bed, grabbing onto the blankets as if they’ll keep me grounded somehow.
I climb closer and closer to orgasm as his mouth moves on me below my hips, and he senses my vicious arousal, leaning into it and sucking my clit slightly harder until I’m nearly crying from ecstasy.
Finally, I’m pushed over the edge, forced to cover my own mouth to stifle my desperate whimpering as my legs close around his head.
“Do you think you can deal with that?” he asks.
“Huh?” I pant, still reeling in the aftershock of my orgasm.
“Do you think you can handle only giving yourself to me?” he repeats, and suddenly I’m reminded of the pit in my stomach where my common sense used to live.
I smile coyly to avoid the question, kissing him deeply and then immediately walking toward the bathroom to take a shower before bed.
As I stand in the shower lathering my skin with Viktor’s impossibly expensive Swedish soap, I allow the feeling of dread to settle in fully.
What am I doing here? Why would I agree to come live with somebody that I don’t even know? The worst part is that the only thing I do know about him is that he’s dangerous. Where are my senses?
I can’t raise a baby with Viktor. There’s absolutely no way that someone like him would be able to give up the kind of luxury he’s used to in such insane quantities to be a father. That doesn’t even sound appealing to me, and I’m the one who is choosing to keep the baby.
I decide for myself that I’ll only stay until I’ve saved enough money to move somewhere safer. Now that I’m pregnant, I can’t afford to stay somewhere as dangerous as where I was living just a day ago. The baby’s safety is my number one priority, and this introduces a balancing act of finding a safe place to stay and keeping the baby away from Viktor once it’s born.