Billie and the Russian Beast - Theodora Taylor Page 0,34
come together like there was no break at all.
Cheslav’s lips find mine, and in no time at all, we’re on fire, burning hotter and hotter until an orgasm consumes me with its flame.
Like the rest of South Carolina, I’ve been on edge since the governor issued his home or work order. I’ve lain awake in my bed at night and worried about my clients, myself, and the baby growing inside of me. I’ve also wondered how and when everything could possibly get back to normal when the best estimates for a vaccine are still a year away.
But joining with Cheslav like this soothes me. It’s like he’s the anxiety meds I’ve been missing. The only thing my mind needs to stay right. The only exercise my body truly craves.
Luckily the table is sturdy. We end up lying on top of it for a long blissed-out time after he rolls to the side and pulls me into his arms.
“What does this mean?” I eventually ask.
“It means same as what I already told you,” he answers with that hard, Russian accent of his. “You are mine.”
“I don’t…” I struggle to put words to my feelings. “I don’t want to be somebody’s possession. That’s not how I see myself.”
“I understand, krasotka. Before I lay eyes on you, I do not see this situation with wife and baby for myself, either. But here we are. You belonging to me.”
I open my mouth to protest again, but before I can, he adds, “And me belonging to you.”
He kisses me on my forehead. “Do not worry. If you are my object, know that I am yours too.”
Chapter Nineteen
Do not worry…
If I think this is one-off sex, Cheslav proves me wrong about that. That night, he takes my hand after we’re done with dinner and invites me to watch TV in his room. And I don’t argue when I end up not seeing a bit of whatever program he turned on because he’s too busy kissing me silly.
But then we get very serious about making up for lost time.
The next morning, Cheslav wakes me up with his hand in my pussy. Then when I’m wet and awake enough, he slips in from behind.
As the sun comes up, so do I, gasping as a climax lights up my whole world.
“I like the feeling of being inside you without condom too much,” he informs me after pulling out. “You will have to monitor me. Make sure I do not become completely addicted.”
I laugh.
But that smile disappears right off my face when he slaps me on the ass and says, “Let’s rinse off. Then we will take our run.”
“Hey, what happened to not having to exercise if I let you get it in?” I demand when he takes me by the wrist and starts tugging me out of bed.
“That was for old agreement. For quarantine agreement, I make you exercise until you agree to become my wife.”
There’s a lot of grumbling that morning.
“I know you are pregnant, but I am this close to punishing you if you do not stop griping about necessary exercise,” he tells me that morning while we’re eating the eggs and steak I made for breakfast on the balcony.
“Punish me how?” I ask, something wicked rising inside of me.
His green eyes darken with lust even though we did it that morning. “I will not tell you how. I will show you…”
And show me he does.
Another week passes in a blur of studying, sex, and puzzles. We only partially finish Baby Yoda due to the pieces lost to our reunion sex. But after we give up on finding the last three pieces, we laugh and order a few more puzzles.
We’re working on one featuring two hedgehogs playing chess with snails when Cheslav’s phone goes off.
He sneers down at it when he sees the name on the caller ID. “It is my brother.”
He answers it and says, “Hello, Tyoma.”
His brother says hello in Russian. Then he asks a question I can’t understand until Cheslav turns the phone around and tells him. “I am doing 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle with my beautiful fiancée. See?”
My cheeks heat. Not just because Cheslav has the phone pointed at me, but also because he keeps on referring to me as his beautiful fiancée to his brother, even though we’re not technically there yet—that feels all sorts of crazy.
“Hi, Artyom,” I say nonetheless. I don’t feel comfortable using the Russian diminutive Cheslav calls him by.
“Hello, Billie,” Artyom answers. He’s ruggedly handsome, like his brother. However,