by Rie Warren
We both conceded. Again.
She truly was in charge, and I was her nurse for this procedure, Kirill situated at Jo’s back, bracing her between his thighs and against his chest.
Sasha remained fully focused on Jo, and Jo on the force within her own body.
As Sasha would say, it was truly awesome.
“Ahhh! I think this thing is a ten-pounder or something.” The almost-mother grunted after pushing again under Sasha’s guidance.
I almost blacked out at the thought but made sure to stay on the periphery of things just in case Sashenka needed anything else from me.
Through all the pushes and coaching, I stayed right there.
I couldn’t believe it when the slippery bundle slid into Sasha’s hands after a final hoarse shout from Jo.
My face tight, I listened as Sasha announced so happily, “It’s a girl!”
She quickly wiped and cleaned the baby before wrapping the newborn in one of her expensive so-soft dresses. “She is beautiful.”
I think I blew out a huge breath at the same time as Kirill, except he had tears in his eyes as did everyone else.
The baby squalled loudly to laughs all around, and Sasha passed the small bundle to Jo. When Jo cradled her and Kirill’s daughter against her breasts, Kirill wrapped himself around both of them like a human shield.
How strange to know he’d be a very good papa when our own parents had been nothing but shit.
Sasha was not done though. There was more to this birthing than men ever knew. The clamping and the tying off and she did everything untiringly when I just wanted to hold her the way Kirill held Joanna.
Afterward, after everything, Sasha stood up and started to wipe her brow before she realized she still wore the surgical gloves.
She snapped them off and tied all the instruments into a parcel.
She leaned over, touching Jo’s arm and kissing the baby’s cheek. “So. What are you going to name this little sweetheart?”
Kirill nodded down at Jo’s affirming gaze before the new mama took Sasha’s hand in hers. “She’s called Saoirse. It’s very Irish.”
“But that sounds a bit like my name.” Sasha blinked, and I stood up straighter because she was right.
“Ya think, auntie Sasha?” Jo smiled.
“But I’m not her aunt.”
“The hell you aren’t.” Jo’s tone was fierce. “Have you forgotten you’re now my sister-in-law? And because you are a sister to me regardless. Not to mention the fact you just got all boss-bitch with these two guys”—she pointed at Kirill then me—“and I wouldn’t have made it through this thing without you.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Sasha’s voice trembled.
“Then that’ll be a first, won’t it?” Jo bent her head to nuzzle her new daughter, and Sasha slowly rose from the bedside.
She picked up her bundle of instruments, and I hurried to gather her med bag and the rest.
Following her from the room, I brimmed with pride for my . . . wife.
In the kitchen, I even stashed the guns away in case they offended her anew.
Then I couldn’t help but pull her into my arms, stroking up and down her back.
“You were incredible, Sashenka,” I whispered, looking down at her.
She appeared so soft, so peaceful, as if the maternal glow rubbed off on her.
And the only thing I could think about in that moment was sinking my cock into her and breeding her full of my child.
It was a dirty thought, and I knew she became aware of what I wanted to do to her when she met my hungry gaze with pure lust of her own.
Her pulse thrummed in her throat, and she glanced away.
“I need to clean everything up.” She appeared instantly hot and horny and suddenly, intoxicatingly, nervous.
I liked this manifestation of her as much as all the others.
I didn’t even think I would mind now when we verbally sparred.
“I’ll help,” I offered.
But first I gave my brother that vodka, and kissed my sister-in-law on the cheek, and admired the rosy faced, redhaired infant.
Back in the main living area, Sasha stood with her back to me at the counter. I stalked up behind her, invading her space for no other reason than to hear that hitch in her breath.
My hard cock channeled along the small of her back, and my breath coursed along her neck. “I am going to fuck you as soon as everyone clears out. I just wanted you to know.”
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice sultry.
15
Sasha
I FOUND IT HARD to breathe after Maksim’s wicked promise.
“I am going to fuck you as soon as everyone clears out.”
Lust spiraled like coils of heat straight to the center of my sex, and I had to brace my palms on the counter as desire weakened my knees.
He began helping to clean up around me, the sound of his absolutely filthy chuckle like a fingertip stroking across my upraised nipples.
Tension leaped and grew between us, but I couldn’t forget we weren’t exactly alone. Jo, Kirill, and Saoirse were just down the hallway. It was almost a welcome relief when the OB arrived, escorted by Grigor, and then a bit later, the pediatrician too.
Jo’s doctor announced everything looked good and I was to be commended. The pediatrician couldn’t have been more pleased with Saoirse’s weight and length, her Apgar scores excellent. Of course Kirill and Maksim had no idea what that meant, being clueless men.
Now, it was the five of us again, the little darling bathed and she and Jo transferred to the sofa. In the bedroom, I changed all the bedding. I was glad Maksim didn’t come to help me because I wasn’t sure I could resist him, and I didn’t even know why I thought I needed to anymore.
When I returned to the lounge area, Maksim’s eyes strayed to me and stayed locked on.
My tummy tightened in wild anticipation, but I made sure not to look at him too long. My blood pressure could only take so much, and I didn’t really need nosy Jo cottoning onto the mad chemistry zinging back and forth between me and . . . my husband.
I bustled around just to stay busy, but I kept coming back to the new family. Kirill hovered over his wife and their daughter while Jo tried, and succeeded, at her first attempt at nursing.
Unbidden, tears came to my eyes at the scene of beaming mother and father and beautiful baby girl.
I was so happy for them, and I wondered if that was how it had been between my mama and papa with me.
Jo’s sparkly gaze found me, and she patted the edge of the sofa to invite me over to the intimate tableau. “So, tell me about that overturned table and the thong Maksim tried to hide.”
Leaning against the bar with a bottle of vodka beside him, Maksim cleared his throat tellingly.
I studiously kept my eyes off him some more, exclaiming, “Ha! Now I know how much pain you were in because I expected a full barrage of questions all through the delivery.” I sat down beside the new family. “And I am not telling you a damn thing.”
All the while I was aware Maksim was waiting and listening and watching. He caused shivers to ripple down my spine and heat to spread between my thighs.
I was about ready to go take care of my needy pussy—Maksim never letting up on his smoldering stares—when Papa blustered inside.
“Where is my grandchild?” he demanded eagerly.
I could’ve felt scorned by him naming Saoirse his grandchild since Kirill wasn’t his son by blood. Instead, happiness soared inside of me at his boisterous pronouncement.
Jo looked momentarily shocked, though, as if she never expected anything like this.
Then she called over, “Saoirse is right here, Papa.”
I’d never seen him grin so wide as when he finally caught sight of the little tuft of red hair peaking from beneath the baby’s tiny knit cap, which Grigor had produced along with the diapers.
“A granddaughter.” He clapped his hands then rubbed them together. “This is good
.”
I waited for the other shoe to drop like for him to say a grandson would be better. At least that was the commonly held belief in mafia circles. But he didn’t claim any such thing.
He approached Jo and Kirill, but he only had eyes for the first of this new generation, and my eyes teared up again.
“Can I hold her?” he asked instead of presuming.
A possible first for the pakhan.
“Of course, Yury,” Jo said softly, and she rearranged the bundle so my father could lift her easily.
He held her gently in his big beefy arms, cooing Russian nonsense as quietly as he could with his usually big booming voice. “Da. A girl is very good.”
I knew he had held me like that too. Just like that.
My heart swelled when he looked straight at me for the first time since I’d hatched my escape plan the night of the wedding.
“You delivered her?” he asked.
“Yes, Papa.”
“Liliana would have been so proud of you.”
I could only nod, my throat clicking, my eyes burning.
“And she is called Saoirse?”
“It is Irish, but we also named her for Sasha because our little one wouldn’t be here without her,” Kirill spoke clearly as I tried to hold it together.
“Da,” Papa said reverently, guiding his huge tattooed finger through the tiny little ring of the baby’s grip.
He beamed when she squeezed the digit tight.
“Isn’t this one of your dresses, Sasha?”
“I wanted her to be wrapped in something fine.”
“Very good.” Walking to me while carefully balancing the baby, he hugged me. He murmured thickly against my hair, “I too am proud of you, daughter.”
“Thank you, Papa.” I curled my arms around him, leaning into his embrace.
The mood lightened after that. He returned the newborn to Jo and Kirill, insisted on vodka for all in congratulations, and handed out cigars, even gifting the expensive Cubans to me and Jo with the added censure, “Not around the baby.”
Then he insisted Kirill and Jo and Saoirse stay at the mansion with him at least for a few days while the new mom recovered. Also, I imagined, so he could have more doting time with the tiny sweetheart he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of.
Looking curiously nervous like he thought Jo would turn down his offer, Papa went to a parcel he’d dropped just inside the door when he’d entered.
He pulled something out then spread a teensy baby outfit across his big palms for Jo to see. “I have bought these things called onesies. And burp cloths.”
Oh lord. My father was ridiculously adorable, and that was something I never imagined I’d think.
He cleared some of the gruffness from his throat and continued his petition. “Crib is set up in the rooms you use at the house, and I have sent Grigor to gather some of your things from The Cat and the Sickle. Boris is already there. All set.”
Jo smiled beatifically at him. “I think that would be perfect.”
And I realized two things at once. My papa was a very good man. And my home was now with Maksim. I no longer yearned to go back to the expansive estate where I’d lived in the lap of luxury.
I didn’t want to be any place other than here in this small apartment with Maksim.
During Papa’s visit, I’d felt my husband’s heavy and heated stare on me even when I wasn’t looking. Each moment became more and more pronounced with the burning desire palpable between us.
Had it only been one day since the wedding? It felt like an entire lifetime had passed, and the one thing I ached for was to have him, hard and hot, inside of me.
We gathered everything together, and just as Papa was about to head out the door with Kirill, Jo, and new baby in tow, he swiveled around.
He peered at me and Maksim from beneath ponderous brows. “This is first time I have not heard you snipe at each other.”
Oh lord, even he’d noticed.
At Papa’s pronouncement, Maksim’s lips curved into an entirely too tempting smirk.
My father scrutinized us some more before he pointed to the side table, which—thankfully—Maksim had righted again.
“Where is lamp that used to be there? It was antique, da?”
“It broke,” I squeaked out.
“Did it?”
“Maksim did it!” I said at exactly the same time Maksim muttered triumphantly, “It was Sashenka who broke it.”
Jo piped up because . . . Jo. “I have a feeling they both had a hand in it.”
Papa still kept watching us. I fidgeted guiltily. Maksim gave one of those new whaddya gonna do shrugs.
“You two were not fighting again before Joanna had the baby, were you?” Papa asked.
Maksim’s lips spread in a very slow, very sexy smile he aimed straight at me. “Nyet. We were definitely not fighting.”
Papa looked very pleased as he took his leave, and so did Maksim.
My heart thrummed a mile a minute, a hammer pulse at the base of my throat.
Advancing with a prowling swagger, he looked deadly serious and dead sexy. “It is time to consummate our marriage.”
“Oh the things you say. I might just swoon.” I backed away, trying to downplay how much I wanted to feel him all over my body.
“Now.” His nostrils flared like an animal who needed to rut.
“You can’t be serious. After all of that?” I shook a hand through my hair. “I mean, I’m a mess.”
Now I was just toying with him to see how far I could push him and how far he’d go to get at me.
“Da. A gorgeous mess. I don’t just want you because of your body. The way you handled everything today. . .” Closing his eyes, he shuddered, the impact clear and intensely erotic.
“At least let me shower first.” My voice dipped to a smoky tone.
“We’ll shower together.” Breaching the distance between us, Maksim hauled me into his arms, clearly done with fucking around and ready to get down to fucking.
We went straight into the bathroom where he set me down, slammed the door, and started the hot water.
His eyes never leaving mine, he undressed.
I was just as fast, shedding everything between me and his flesh.
He growled before snatching me to him for a kiss that curled my toes and probably curled the ends of my hair too.
He took his mouth from mine, took several steps back, and locked us together inside of the large, steamy cubicle.
I moaned when the hot water hit my body.
I moaned louder when he crowded behind me, his broad hands immediately scooping my breasts up and jiggling them so the spray from the shower pinged off my more than generous mounds.
Reaching up, I massaged my fingers through his hair. Thus positioned, my body bowed outward, and Maksim’s hands were all over my front from my breasts to my belly, but he skipped going any lower.
The water soaked us quickly, mist pouring over us and making the whole thing like some carnal dreamscape.
His massive cock pressed against my lower back, his balls bouncing off my wet ass, and I loved how much taller he was than me.
I pulled his face down, my lips finding his in this tipped back position, which gave him all the power. And all . . . that . . . power he harnessed made my pussy gush.
Grazing my tongue along the stubble on his jaw, I whispered lewdly, “I thought about us together in here when I had a shower this morning.”
He groaned, and two of his fingers slipped down to scissor around my plump clit.
I gasped, so on edge already.
“Did you?” he asked, voice rough at my ear.
I nodded, wiggling into his fingers.
“Did you get yourself off thinking about me?” He nipped at my neck, shoving my head aside like he was a stallion and I was his mare.
“I wanted to. But I wanted to be in here with you more.”
His hand shot out and he filled his palm with my favorite bodywash. He pushed me f
orward, bending me in the same way the stallion would breed his mare.
His heat compounded around me, and he slid his rigid shaft right between my thighs so the hefty rod slid along my cleft.
But he didn’t enter me.
Large hands calloused and firm, he soaped me all over. From the globes of my breasts to the column of my neck. All the way down my arms and back up to my inner elbows, which made me shiver.
He soaped my back, that swayed for him.
He lathered my belly, my hips, my thighs and legs and the backs of my knees that he kissed . . . and I shuddered.
Rising again, he slipped a hand between my legs, cupping my sex, sliding his fingers along my clit.
I wanted to scream. Needed to come.
Needed to do my fair share first.
Spinning on Maksim, I switched places with him. His half-mast gaze hid none of his feelings because everything was evident on the harsh planes of his face and the stamped muscles of his body and the thickness of his pierced dick.
“My turn.” Hooking an eyebrow high, I grabbed his bodywash and squirted a healthy amount into my hand.
His soap smelled more masculine—woodsy and spicy—and I realized this was the scent that always clung to him. The aroma I’d begun to salivate over.
“Arms behind you, Maksim, palms on the tiles,” I ordered.
Maybe he’d gotten used to me bossing him around for a change during Saoirse’s birth because he complied. I doubted I’d get my way for long, a man like him knew just how to control a woman like me.
A lazy smirk dragged across his lips, and he made a feast for the eyes with his broad chest pushed out, his cock even more prominent, his strapping thighs spread wide, and those juicy cum-filled balls tempting me from below.
Water rained down his head and along his strong throat, and I set to work on his magnificent form.
I could climax just from looking at him like this.
The view was even better when I soaped all across his chest. When I spread foam down from his large shoulders to the mountains of his biceps. When I slathered suds all around his eight-pack abs and along those pelvic grooves of muscle that led to his cock and made my mouth water.
