The Bodyguard's Bride (Russian Alpha Erotic Romance Book 4)
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He seized a nipple with his teeth as he ground into me, fucking deep but slow before eventually pulling further out and dipping into me, shallow thrusts that drove me back towards the edge. I’d cum so much so recently that I wasn’t sure I could again, but sure enough I felt my body clenching, the tide riding my spinal column and firing all of the nerves in my body, beginning in the center and snapping to attention everywhere. He sucked my nipple, hard, and that was it. We came together, my arms clasped tightly over my head as I bucked into his thrusts, feeling him deep in my body when he came, filling me with all of him.
I couldn’t speak for a long time; I’d cum so much and so hard that I wanted to go back to sleep, but the daylight was announcing itself to me, telling me that this was the start of a new day. It was time to get up and see it. I looked over at Ivan and realized he’d been watching me.
“Are you upset I did not finish that way?” He seemed a little nervous, actually. I rose up on an elbow and took him in. “I was going to, and then I… I like cum with you the old way. One more time.”
“I really hope that wasn’t the last time you plan on doing that,” I told him, and he smiled.
“No, but is last time in this bed,” he explained. “We get new bed today—same size, but all new, all new bed when you choose.” He looked sheepish, then rose up on one elbow to face me. “I like you be last memory in this bed. First time I do many things—first time I have woman on top, first time I eat delicious kiska, and last time I punish delicious kiska too.” He smiled at me. “I am happy, my Julie. Milaya, I have never known happiness. I know it now.”
“It was a pretty busy morning,” I said, and I couldn’t help but smile back at him.
“Yes,” Ivan said, and then he winked at me unexpectedly. “I very busy man.” I laughed out loud and threw a pillow at him before he reached over with one long arm and gathered me against his chest. He kissed me tenderly, his hands clutching me tight. “My love. We have busy day, no more jokes. Will you come with me, eat breakfast?”
“I’ll try some of those ridiculous smoothies in the other room, sure,” I said, and kissed him back. We got out of bed, finding robes in the closet, and headed into the dining room. In the morning light it wasn’t nearly so strange looking, and as I settled down at the table I wondered if I could live with this furniture. I was beginning to really like the apartment itself, in spite of my first impression. It was beautiful in the daylight, bright and sunny with a view that couldn’t be beat. Ivan was pleased when I finished one smoothie and started on a second.
“You gave me an appetite,” I said, grinning at him. Luckily, I was telling the truth; my body seemed to understand that it really needed the nutrients and thankfully didn’t decide to send all my food back as soon as it was down. I’d been blissfully free of nausea so far, but a small quake went through me after I finished; luckily that’s all it was. I was able to enjoy having such a delicious start to the day without any trouble.
Ivan told me he missed having breakfast with me back at my house. I felt flattered by his kind opinion, then thoughtful. “What did you like about being there? You weren’t really able to tell to me what it was that made it okay, especially compared to all of this.”
“I tell you this is not only way I live in my life,” Ivan said, and shrugged. “I learn to live like this, just like you will, my Julie, but this is not how I live in Russia.”
“You said that,” I nodded, “but it still doesn’t completely explain the difference.”
“I am comfortable in that house because inside, I am not…” He waved a hand around him, then pointed at a particularly gaudy bauble on table. “I am not like this inside.” He turned his finger towards his own chest, his heart. “I am simple.”
“And our house was simple?” I stuck my tongue out at him, and he laughed.
“Yes—on purpose. Your father, he is clever man.” He sighed, looking at me. “But he could not make you simple, Julie, and best parts of house… Is obvious woman live there—good woman, woman who cook and read. I like your house because I like you.” He drank a sip of his black coffee before looking up at me again. “I never happy before. I hope I can be happy here the same way, with you.”
“I know we can,” I assured him, then realized that meant he intended me to stay in this building. “Ivan, how will I go to school if—”
“What is best medical school? What school you most like to go to?” He raised his eyebrows at me, already knowing the answer; we’d talked about it before, several times.
“Johns Hopkins,” I said, and he nodded. “But that’s at least—”
“Driver take you,” Ivan said, and shrugged. “I no like you drive, make you more tired, the highways here, they are not very good.”
“I’ve been driving in northern Virginia all of my life,” I reminded him, and he made a face.
“Maybe this is why you not very good driver.” He laughed when I slapped his arm, my mouth dropping open in surprise. “I only kidding! I kidding.”
“Well, I don’t need a driver,” I said seriously, but he shook his head.
“You marrying me, Julie. You need driver who is not driver. We will help you choose.”
“Choose…” I gulped, staring at him as the realization hit me. “Choose a new bodyguard?”
Ivan’s eyes were kind. He wrapped both of his hands around mine, pulling them to his lips so he could place a kiss on my knuckles. “Da, milaya. I am always your bodyguard. Always. Forever. But must be someone who can keep you safe for me when I am away—but I promise I will never be away from you very long. I cannot stand to be away from my Julie, and I will not leave you while you pregnant. I want to be with you, take care of you.”
“It’s just so hard to imagine…” I couldn’t believe how much this was affecting me; tears rose in the corners of my eyes, and Ivan pulled me into his lap. “I don’t want anyone but you,” I whispered, and he kissed my eyebrows, my cheeks and lips.
“You have me, milaya,” he said again, his voice soft and deep. “Always. And if you have me you have many other people work for you—and against you. I will never let anything happen to you. It is alright. I am always your bodyguard,” he said softly, tenderly kissing me again.
“Okay,” I said, thinking about getting to go to school at Johns Hopkins, getting to marry this man, the man I loved more than anything. Getting to be the mother of his child. All of the things a woman might want in life, I had, and I was only getting more. My life was so far from what I expected when I started this semester of community college, when I graduated from high school, when I said good-bye to my father for the last time.
Everything was different.
“I want to talk about wedding,” Ivan said quietly, and when I looked over at him he was staring intently at the window, taking in the magnificent view, although I could tell he wasn’t thinking about it. “I would like…” He sighed. “My father never marry my mother. She think he will do this, but he never do, and I know, when I talk to him, he never want marry her.” Ivan looked at me with pain in his eyes. “I never like our child to feel like I feel when I see this. I want big wedding. I want…” He searched for the word, his brow low. “Gigantic wedding.”
I laughed with delight. “Good one,” I said, and he smiled back at me appreciatively. “I would like a beautiful wedding, Ivan, and if you’re there that will be enough for me. Because, to be honest—who do we invite? The only family I have sold me to you.” My heart hurt when I thought about it, but that didn’t make it untrue. “Who do you want to come to this gigantic wedding?”
“You ask good question,” he said thoughtfully. “I did not think of it this way.”
“We could get married right now, and I’d be perfectly happy,” I told him, but he brushed that thought away. I was expecting him to say another six months, maybe the summer before I started school, so he could invite his legions of associates with the mafia. Instead, he surprised me.
“We go anywhere you like. We get married
there. Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I stared at him.
Ivan kissed my forehead. “Da. You are right, milaya—who should we invite? Only Alexei, if is alright with you. I no like Sergei come, he say bad things. I no like all my workers come; I like privacy with you. I do want wedding in church,” he said seriously, surprising me again. “I want to marry you in church. Like my mother want,” he said, his voice softer. “Irina come, she bring babies. Will be beautiful wedding.”
“Wow,” I said, and tickled his nose. He made a funny face. “You old softie.” He nipped my finger, showing his canines, and I laughed. “Seriously though—you think all of this can come together by tomorrow?”
He just laughed.
And then, he said we needed to shower and get dressed, because the dressmaker would arrive in fifteen minutes.
~~~
Ivan wasn’t joking about putting together an elaborate wedding anywhere in the world within one day. He also wasn’t joking about getting rid of his furniture and having me buy new things; he wasn’t kidding about Irina and Alexei coming, and the children, or anything at all—Ivan wasn’t much of a kidder in general, I guess, so I shouldn’t have been surprised. I was, though, constantly, about once every five minutes that day.
“Hello!” Irina’s English, unlike Ivan’s, was absolutely perfect. She had shoulder length black hair that gleamed just like her brother’s, was wearing a cashmere set that probably cost as much as her flight down here from New York, and was warm and kind immediately, also in a way that her brother was not. It was wonderful to finally meet her after hearing so much about her, but I was still surprised by how much I hadn’t known. She was raised here, in the United States, and was five years older than Ivan. Irina wanted to know everything about me, but we had to settle with hand-holding and excited squeals until after the wedding. She must have congratulated me a thousand times.
Alexei, to my surprise, arrived with a date. Ivan said nothing so I didn’t either, but the young girl with him was quick with a joke and very likeable and I wished I could get to know her without making Alexei uncomfortable. It was pretty obvious he wasn’t sure of himself around her; the clever, fox-like grin he always wore that showed off those fabulous dimples wasn’t anywhere to be seen. I wondered if this was the person Sergei had decided he needed to marry. I wondered if they would; Alexei was definitely off his game.
But I didn’t have time to think about him any more; I had to choose new furniture, a wedding dress, and a destination, all in one day. I was making a whole life-time happen in the space of twenty four hours, and it was really important to focus—especially since my morning sickness came back and decided to stay through most of the afternoon.
The rigorous schedule should have been stressful, but it wasn’t. It was cleansing. I was thrilled when Ivan had my chosen objects from my old house delivered—the kitchen table where we’d fallen in love, the low lamp above it—and I set them up in prominent places just to give myself a smile. But I realized that was all I wanted from that life. I didn’t want the rest of it. I wanted my new life.
And although I was still getting used to the level of incredible wealth Ivan was accustomed to, I appreciated the convenience of it very much. There was no dithering about extras for the wedding dress, no worry about how much the hotels would cost, or even whether or not anyone would have to miss work to attend. It was much less stressful than real life—although, I supposed, this was my real life now.
I liked our new bed best of all, a magnificent walnut frame with built in shelves and a sturdy headboard. I chose a lovely sky blue for all of the bedding, and Ivan told me while we were getting married he would have the room re-painted in any color I liked; I chose a pale, creamy peach with a thin blue pin-stripe, something I never would have picked before. It wasn’t what we would have forever, but it would be warm and inviting while the baby slept in the elegant crib beside our bed. It would match the gorgeous sunrises, and sooth us at night. And it was something I never could have had in our cookie-cutter house back in the suburbs, where everything had to be abandoned at a moment’s notice and must remain safely bland, all beige and white and grey. Here, I was safe. This was my home. I could make my master bedroom into a warm, inviting family-oriented space painted the color of sunsets if I wanted to.
I could do almost anything I wanted to.
I couldn’t invite my father to my wedding, and in spite of everything that had happened between us, there was a part of me that was desperately unhappy about that. I had no one coming to our impromptu but lavish ceremony, no one but Ivan’s own friends and family. My world felt very small when I realized this—my whole life felt small. Small and sad.
And then I looked over at Ivan and remembered everything: that I was loved by the most handsome man I’d ever seen; that he’d been willing to give up his own freedom, his own personhood, really, to be with me; that he was clever and loyal and mine. And I was his. And everything was wonderful.
So I enjoyed preparing for my wedding.
~~~
The flight to Maui felt like it took forever; despite my nausea, I hadn’t felt overtly pregnant until flying half-way around the world, when my feet demanded I get up and walk endlessly in the aisles so that some of the swelling would go down, and the only bathroom was still very public, as far as I was concerned. We all packed in to first class--Irina, the children, Alexei, his date, named Mavis, and Ivan and I—so I guess at least it was just family hearing me being sick.
Ivan apologized when he couldn’t get the private jet for the flight. He actually seemed disappointed by first class, so I had to remind him that I’d never flown anywhere before, and this made him smile. He loved introducing me to new, amazing experiences, and when we touched down in Maui as the sun was setting, he’d certainly succeeded yet again. I stood on the tarmac, staring, as the bright orb of the sun dropped below endless waves, just visible on the horizon. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Ivan let me watch the quick sunset and then we got into the waiting train of SUVs idling at the curb, the palm trees swaying in the breeze. The air smelled incredible. It was easily the most beautiful place I’d ever been, and I was still at the airport.
The drive to the resort where we were staying took a long time, although the island itself is very small. The traffic was thick on the roads, and everyone basically took one highway that looped like a figure eight around the entire island, the valley in the center letting me look out over the old sugar cane fields, rippling in the breeze, and then towards the base of the mountains where we would stay. Haleakala, the House of the Sun, was the sleeping volcano to the south, and Ivan promised we could go there as soon as I wanted—we could do whatever I wanted. It was my wedding, after all. But I told him I wanted to be married as quickly as possible, and his eyes lit up. Even though it was way past mid-night on the east coast, I was wired. I held his hand, bouncing up and down in my seat as the island flew by, watching the stars start to twinkle in the endless sky overhead. I rolled down the window and didn’t care at all that my hair was flying everywhere—and neither did Ivan. His eyes sparkled the entire way to the resort.
When we arrived, our security detail followed us in and I realized the entire wing had been rented for us and our team. Ivan lead me to the top floor; we took the stairs, since he was being cautious. Our team had come even earlier than we did to sweep the building and set up shop all around. I was just going to have to get used to it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t strange. Ivan reminded me that because our plans were made so recently, he wasn’t able to design a security protocol—his words—that he liked, so they were doing the absolute best they could. He didn’t need to remind me why we’d left my father’s house. I had a vivid memory.
Seeing all of the very large men speaking Russian walking back and forth through the lobby and patrolling the halls made me remember what had happened. It wasn’t pleasant. But then it also reminded me of what came after: Ivan and I were getting married. We would be together forever
. And I was safe--safer, probably, than I’d ever been in my life. It might not feel like that, but it was the truth.
Ivan held my hand as we walked through the lobby, and after we waved good-bye to our guests and their respective entourages we went with our own team to the special suite he’d requested for us. There was a beautiful veranda that looked out over the ocean, the palm trees whistling in the breeze and the sound of the pounding surf greeting me as I walked through the door. Our guys did the sweep and then left us to enjoy our privacy, staying close by and patrolling all the surrounding floors; I was grateful that it was just Ivan and I as we walked into the room for the first time. The smell of fresh gardenias mixed with the heady scent of the ocean, and the breeze that blew in from the open veranda was intoxicating. The room itself was covered in soft fabrics and local art, elegant and perfectly designed. I couldn’t wait to roll around in the giant four poster bed with swinging gauze, facing the open air of the ocean. I felt like I must have fallen asleep on the plane and been dreaming everything that happened since we landed. Ivan stood in the background, his hands in the pockets of his linen suit, and just watched me exploring everything—the carved koa tables, the spray of orchids perched on the living water wall in the topiary-styled bathroom, the aromatherapy globe next to the bed. The room was so perfect. It managed to be amazing both for a pregnant woman and a bride-to be, an epic feat indeed.
“You like it?” Ivan came close to me, and I reached my hand out so I could tow him towards the balcony. We stood in the breeze, watching the waves crash on the beach, for a solid minute. All of a sudden, my exhaustion hit me, and he pulled me close, nestling me beneath his chin as he wrapped his arms around me, resting his palms on my belly.