“That’s it,” I urged her, grabbing one of her legs and sliding it over my shoulder to bury myself even deeper.
Naomi angled her hips, and I could feel the warm convulsions as her walls gripped my cock. Her moans grew huskier with each thrust.
I wanted her to shatter around my cock.
Sweat dotted my forehead as I picked up the pace, the sound of our bodies slapping together intermingling with her throaty cries.
“Fuck, you are so wet,” I growled, my cock sliding in and out of her easily. “Give yourself to me.”
“Yes…” she said. Softly at first. “Yes!”
The soft words turned to gasps. Gasps became cries. And cries became deep-throated screams as she clamped down around my cock, her orgasm pulling me deeper inside of her.
Unable to hold back, I allowed my own release. I pushed my lips around hers and felt her hungrily open her mouth. Our tongues danced as she milked me for every last drop. For a moment, it was as if we were one. Her nails dug into my back and she gripped me deep inside her, refusing to let me go until I had emptied myself.
But the nagging feeling remained, even after I eased out and looked at her flushed form underneath me.
My stomach was in knots, almost like I was on the verge of losing it.
Naomi collapsed on the bed, and I rolled off her. My body was sated, but my soul felt like it had been trampled on.
Something was missing, and I couldn’t put my finger on it.
I felt Naomi rise from the bed and walk to the bathroom, and I ran a hand through my hair roughly as my body cooled. Was this how it would be forever? Would there always be this rift between us?
The question refused to leave, even after Naomi returned to bed.
I threw my arm over her waist, pulling her against my body. For a moment I lay there, listening to her finally drift off to sleep before I pressed my lips to her bare shoulder, pulling the covers up over us both. While this shit was far from over, tonight I had my wife in my arms and my child nestled comfortably in her stomach.
I hadn’t lost her, not yet anyway.
Every bone in my body screamed for me to fix this, to make her at least look at me like I wasn’t the devil. But I couldn’t. I could be the Pakhan of the Belaya Bratva, or I could be her doting husband.
I couldn’t be both.
And that was the ugly reality.
As Naomi drifted off to sleep next to me, I wondered which one mattered more to me.
Being Pakhan had made me powerful. But Naomi…Naomi gave me something else. And only now, in the bed where we created our own life together, did I realize what that was.
She gave me a sense of purpose. She was the light to the darkness that my life had been before her.
And now that she was here, I didn’t want to lose that feeling. I didn’t want to be shut out. And no amount of my demands that she be the perfect fucking wife was going to give me what I wanted.
That realization scared the hell out of me.
And as sleep overcame my heavy eyelids, I knew that I was in trouble.