Chapter 41: Mafia Prince’s Secret Baby: Chapter 40

The night wraps itself around the house like a protective shield, cocooning us in silence. Only the faint hum of the heating system and the distant whoosh of cars passing outside break the stillness. By the time I finish my shower, the kids are asleep. I should be heading straight to bed, but I can’t resist the pull to check on them.

Cracking the door open just enough to slip inside, I pause. Sofiya clings to Damien’s teddy bear, her little fingers wrapped around it like a lifeline. The soft glow of a nightlight on the nightstand casts warm, golden shadows across their faces. Their peaceful expressions make my heart twist painfully with love and relief.

I bite my lip to stop the tears threatening to rise, only to feel Igor step in behind me. His presence fills the doorway, his broad frame shadowed by the moonlight streaming through the hallway window. I don’t have to look to feel the worry etched into his features.

His hand comes to rest on my back, the warmth of his palm spreading through my thin robe like a balm, calming the storm that’s been raging inside me. He leans closer, and I inhale deeply, his intoxicating scent anchoring me in this moment.

I turn and wrap my arms around him. My fingers curl into his shirt as I press my face into his chest, breathing him in like he’s the air keeping me alive. My grip tightens, maybe too much, but Igor doesn’t flinch. He just holds me, his arms folding around me, strong and unyielding, pulling me closer until I can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my cheek.

“We should let them sleep,” he whispers, his lips brushing the top of my head.

I nod against his chest and pull back, reluctantly releasing him. Together, we step out of the room, closing the door softly behind us. I follow him as he leads me down the hall to the guest room where we’ve been staying temporarily.

The moment we step inside, the familiar scent of clean sheets and his cologne wraps around me. The moonlight streams through the window, casting soft silver shadows across the bed.

Igor’s eyes find mine, those piercing blue depths softening as they lock on me. His hand comes up, cupping my cheek. His thumb brushes away a tear I didn’t realize had fallen, and the tenderness in the gesture almost undoes me.

“You’re safe now,” he whispers. “You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

I swallow hard, my throat tightening as I fight back the instinct to argue. “I’ve never known how to be anything else,” I admit in barely more than a whisper. “Until you showed me there was another way.”

His hands move to my waist, gentle and firm at the same time, guiding me backward toward the bed. The mattress dips as I sink down onto it, and time seems to slow, each heartbeat stretching out into eternity.

Igor kneels in front of me, his fingers finding the tie of my robe. He hesitates for a fraction of a second, his eyes flicking up to meet mine. I give him a small nod, my pulse hammering as he pulls the knot loose. The fabric falls open, revealing the bruises and cuts that mar my skin.

The cool air kisses my exposed body, and for a moment, shame claws at me. The evidence of Galina’s cruelty is written all over me—purple bruises blooming along my ribs, raw marks on my wrists from the ropes. I fight the urge to pull the robe closed, to hide from him. But this is Igor.

He doesn’t flinch.

His gaze sweeps over me, not with pity, but with reverence. Slowly, he reaches out, his hand brushing lightly against my arm, and I lift my chin, daring him to look.

“Every mark is proof of your strength,” he murmurs, each syllable heavy with the rumble of a distant storm.

My breath catches as he leans forward, pressing a kiss to my forehead. Then, ever so gently, his lips trail downward, brushing against the bruises along my ribs. Each kiss is soft, careful, as if he’s trying to take the pain away with his touch.

The robe slips from my shoulders, pooling around me as his hands follow the path of his lips, pushing the fabric aside until it falls away completely.

I tilt my head back, staring at the ceiling as I let myself feel his hands, rough but gentle, glide over my skin.

“You’re everything,” he breathes against my skin, his lips brushing over the curve of my hip. “Everything I never knew I needed.”

He rises, his body hovering over mine, his weight braced on his forearms as his eyes lock onto mine. The intensity in his gaze takes my breath away, and I lift a hand to his face, brushing my fingers along his jaw.

“Let me love you,” he whispers.

Before I can respond, his mouth closes around one of my nipples, and my breath hitches. Goosebumps race across my skin, and a shiver rolls through me, not from the cold, but from the tenderness of his touch. It feels like the beginning of something new—a chance to heal, to let go of the past and let him love me the way I’ve always needed.

The way I’ve always wanted.

The sensation spreads like wildfire through my veins, awakening every nerve ending.

An involuntary moan rips from my throat, and despite all the trauma I lived through today, I can’t help but crave more. My fingers trace the expanse of his bare back, memorizing the planes of his muscles, the scars that tell the story of who he is. He’s my cure, my medicine, my shelter.

Despite the bruising, nothing matters as much as feeling him close. The world narrows to just this—his touch, his breath, the way his body moves with mine like we were created from the same star. My body reacts to him, opening up as I writhe on the bed, my hands fisting his sheets, craving more.

“So beautiful,” he rumbles. “So fierce, so strong, so perfectly mine.”

A whimper falls from my lips. The throbbing inside of me grows. A second later, he takes his pants off, and the tip of his cock is against my entrance, just the head at first. With a roll of his hips, he begins his gentle caressing, feeding me his hard length inch by inch. Just when I think I can’t take another second, I lift my head, my eyes locking with his. The fierce heat between us flares, building momentum. Then he grips my hips, and with a snap of his, fills me completely. A spasm has me gasping, walls contracting against him, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he waits and gives me a chance to catch my breath, his gaze following the rhythm of my breathing. He remains perfectly still until my cries become pleas, and when he begins thrusting, he doesn’t show mercy.

“Look at me while I fuck you,” he demands hoarsely.

He’s setting the pace, moving relentlessly, hands gliding up the sides of my thighs, in a torturous, slow manner. His fingers find my clit, brushing over it, playing in my arousal. A small gasp echoes around the room as he rubs the sensitive flesh.

“Oh God,” I groan, my eyes shutting.

It’s not hard to admit that only he can drive me to the brink. No one ever made me feel anything like this.

“Open your eyes, volchitsa,” he orders.

Our gazes lock, and he speeds up, chasing my release. We’re glued to one another, moving together, giving and taking. He swells, stretching me impossibly wide. Soon, my toes curl and my inner walls quiver as I draw in a shuddered breath.

“Good girl,” he praises, continuing to thrust into me with a punishing, steady, frantic force.

With one final grunt, he explodes inside me, and my name is on his lips as we fall apart together. Explosive, just like everything else between us. It’s like our souls merge every time we do this.

Dazed and spent, we collapse in a messy heap. The sound of our labored breathing fades away along with every bit of tension and pain from my body. The world outside the room is distant, a storm we’ve weathered together.

I know better than anyone that things can change in a heartbeat. Even though life is a mess right now, no longer do I worry about letting myself be vulnerable. Igor, Sofiya, and Damien are more than enough reasons to believe in miracles.

“Sleep now,” I hear him whisper against my hair, pulling me to his chest.

“Make love to me again,” I murmur, barely awake.

“When you’re well again,” he says, reaching for the blankets. His protectiveness warms me more than any blanket could.

The next moment, I’m cocooned against his hard chest, tucked in and peaceful. His breath tickles my ear, his feet are intertwined with mine, and his arms are wrapped tightly around me, as if he’ll never let me go.

This is real. More real than anything I’ve ever known.

“Volchitsa,” Igor whispers. “I love you.”

The words settle into my bones like starlight, filling every dark corner with their glow. My heart ignites hearing him say it. It’s the first time either one of us acknowledged it out loud. That deep throaty voice of his is the most lethal weapon, threatening to undo me. Maybe, right here and now, Igor is Prince Charming, not the beast I took him for. He’s the warrior who’ll tear the world apart to protect me, and the man who holds me like I’m made of glass.

Closing my eyes, I slide my hand into his, bringing it up for a tender kiss, then I tell him the same three words, smiling as my heart races.

“I love you.”

I put every promise I’ve ever wanted to make into this admission, and every future I’ve ever dreamed of having.