Chapter 168 168

Chapter 168 168
Artem

A Few Days Later

She rocks back and forth on top of me. Her hair flies wildly around her head and her lips part with a moan that sends a jolt of electricity straight to my cock.

My fingertips graze against her belly that has only just started to swell.

Esme falls against my chest, her breathing erratic and filled with notes of pleasure. I wrap my arms around her and flip us over so that I’m on top.

“Harder, Artem,” she gasps. “Harder.”

I bury my face in the crook of her neck and ram into her with violent thrusts. When that’s not enough, I hook her legs over my shoulders so I can drive deeper.

“Yes,” she moans at once as I find the right spot. She squeezes around my cock and her hands scrabble to cling to something, anything—bedsheets, pillows, my flexing thighs.

When her orgasm comes, it comes hard. Her sounds go silent and it looks for a moment like she can’t breathe.

But then the levee breaks and she dissolves into an endless stream of whispers and curses and pleas to never stop.

It pulls me closer and closer to the edge, too, until I can’t hold back anymore.

“Esme, I’m going to…”

She flips around frantically, takes my cock in two hands, and brings her lips right to my tip.

The suction of her wet mouth around me pulls the seed out in fiery ropes. She swallows me greedily, desperately.

It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

When I’m fully spent, Esme wipes away the tiny dot next to her mouth and settles into the sheets beside me.

“Jesus, woman,” I tell her. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she says innocently.

“This is the second morning you’ve woken me up with your mouth around my cock.”

“Are you complaining?” she asks, in a teasing tone. “Because that sounds an awful lot like a complaint, sir.”

“I’m not and it isn’t,” I reply in a hurry. “I’m just saying, I’m liable to have a fucking heart attack the way you ride me.”

She chuckles. “You’re a big boy,” she says, patting my chest. “You can take it.”

Esme tries to get out of bed, but I grab her and pull her to me. She squirms in my arms, yelping and giggling.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I growl in her ear.

“Brush my teeth…” she says, continuing to wiggle. “I’ve got some man’s taste all up in there.”

“Fuck that,” I growl. “I want to lie here with you for a bit. You like that taste anyways.”

“If we stay in bed, we’ll end up having sex again,” Esme sighs, as though it’s a problem she doesn’t know how to solve.

“Says who?”

She smiles. “Says me.”

I flex my arm. “It’s this mountain man physique of mine that’s revving your engine, isn’t it?”

Esme shoves me away. “Gross. Never. It’s the baby. The damn baby’s making me so horny.”

I grin with satisfaction. I have noticed her increasing demands in the last few days, and I am all for it. My body craves hers, and I’ve spent the last few days exploring every last inch of it.

We haven’t spoken about Marisha and the baby since the night I revealed that sordid part of my past.

But it hangs there between us in the long silences, waiting for the right moment to sneak out and say its peace.

“Oh, sure,” I nod. “Blame the innocent little baby.”

“I’m not—”

“You need to take responsibility for the fact that you just can’t keep your hands off me,” I say, cutting her off.

She narrows her eyes, but I can see the smile she’s trying to hide.

“Well,” she says, running her fingers over the tattoos on my chest, “now that you mention it, I’ve always had a thing for dark-haired Russian men.”

“Is that right?”

“Mm-hmm,” she nods. “With killer abs and a giant dick.”

“Happy to be of service.”

“You did knock me up,” she points out. “It’s the least you can do.”

“I can do so much more than that if you let me, darling.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be, kiska.”

“Oo, I love it when you talk dirty Russian to me.” She snuggles into the crook of my arm and drops a fluttering kiss on my neck. “But don’t do it now or we’ll just start this whole thing all over again. Anyway, what’s the plan today?”

“I’ve got to check in with Cillian,” I tell her. “It’s been a few days since our last call and I need to stay updated. I haven’t been this disconnected from the Bratva since… well, since ever.”

Her expression takes on that careful, weary quality that I don’t like seeing. I take her hand and thread her fingers through mine.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” she mumbles.

“Don’t lie.”

She sighs. “Is it really so bad?” she asks. “To be disconnected from it all?”

“No,” I reply carefully. “But I am the don, Esme, no matter what my uncle may be saying. I’m responsible for all the men that follow me. I need to know what’s happening.”

She drops her gaze. I know it’s because she doesn’t want me to see what’s in her eyes. “Would it really be so awful if we were to just… stay up here?”

“Really?” I press. “You want to live in this cabin until we’re old and grey?”

“Why not?” she counters, her chin jutting out a little. “It’s peaceful and quiet and we don’t have to worry about anyone trying to kill us.”

“I’ll kill every single man who even thinks of hurting you,” I tell her firmly.

She nods. “I know that. I just wish you didn’t need to.”

Before I can say anything else, she disentangles herself from my arms and gets off the bed and onto her feet.

I watch as she walks naked to the chair that we usually throw our clothes on. She grabs my t-shirt and slips it over her head. It swallows her blossoming body, leaving only her legs on full display.

“What do you want for breakfast?”

“What do you want for breakfast?” I toss back at her.

“At this point,” Esme muses, rubbing her belly, “it’s really about what this little guy wants for breakfast. And I think he’s craving bacon and cheese and croissants with garlic butter.”

I chuckle. “Oh, just that? You don’t want crepes and a seafood tower, too, princess?”

“Well, if you’re offering…”

I toss a pillow at her. She shrieks and scrambles out of the room, laughing.

I get up with a yawn and follow her into the kitchen.

The place looks a lot different now than the state we found it in. It’s clean, for one thing, but we also have cabinets stocked with different food products, and a small mini-fridge in the corner to store our meats, along with a few locally-grown fruits and vegetables.

Esme opens the fridge and pulls out the milk and our last carton of eggs.

“Omelet?” she asks.

“I’d do devious things to you for one of those.”

She wrinkles her nose in mock disgust. “You’d do devious things to me for no reason at all.”

“Touché.”

Esme gets to work on breakfast, humming as she cooks. I go out to the car to check our supplies.

We should be good for another week or so up here. I wonder if there’s a possibility we might stay longer. I know Esme loves the peace and quiet of the mountains.

But it’s also more than that.

She’s desperate to avoid the chaos that awaits us the moment we leave this cabin.

My memories unfold suddenly as I step into the crisp mountain air. I remember a conversation I’d had with Marisha what feels like a lifetime ago now.

“Where were you?” Marisha asks, her eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.

“I was working, babe.”

She flinches back from my touch, a hand falling to her growing belly. “I waited for you.”

“Marisha,” I sigh, “you know I have to work.”

“Work,” she spits. “You say that like you have a real job.”

I frown. “What’s gotten into you?”