10. ANDREY

Chapter 10

ANDREY

I didn’t walk into the bathroom to fuck Isabella. I came to see if she was okay. I’d gone to the store and back to find she was still in the bath. I’d stalked in here, worried and angry at her, only to find my water nymph with her hands in her pussy, enjoying the attention of the bath’s water jets.

I’d never seen anything more erotically beautiful in all my life. The way Isabella gives herself over to pleasure with such abandonment pushes me to the limits of my self-control.

My cock had stood ramrod straight, instantly hard. It pulsed with a need so strong it took everything I had not to dive into the bath and ram my cock into her tight hole.

I could see she was about to cum, and I’d felt a surge of unrealistic anger at fucking bath jets that were about to bring my wife to orgasm. I’d instantly shut them off and ripped her hands away from her pussy.

An overwhelming surge of possessiveness hit me. Isabella’s mine! I have eight weeks of pent-up sexual frustration building inside me, and I will be the one to bring her release—not a fucking bath.

Sexual frustration that only my beautiful, frustrating, and stubborn water nymph of a wife can sate. And I intend to spend tonight doing just that.

Just washing her porcelain smooth skin and feeling how each stroke of my hands or lips makes her quiver makes my cock throb a little more.

Her belly is still flat and hasn’t rounded much, and with our twins at eight weeks pregnant, I don’t think it would. But fuck, her tits have become fuller, more sensitive than they already were—they are even more magnificent.

I’m going to enjoy watching all of Isabella swell with our twins growing inside her. As I wash and tease her nipples, I can’t stop myself from giving each one a lick, making them draw to tight buds.

After rinsing off the top half of Isabella’s body, I grab her and pull her into the water with me. She yelps in surprise, her eyes flying accusingly to mine.

I smirk and pick up the cloth again, moving to her pussy. I tease her clit, hole, and tight little ass with the cloth, eliciting soft cries from her. She’s so responsive, so sensitive to my touch. I can feel my arousal building,

“Turn over onto your hands and knees,” I command, my voice hoarse and strained from the tight control I’m exerting over my own almost overwhelming desire for her.

Isabella complies, presenting her delicious ass to me. I groan, my fingers digging into her hips as I take in the sight of her. My little minx has a dark side, and I’m more than happy to indulge her.

I lean in and replace the cloth with my lips, kissing and licking her firm ass cheeks. She gasps and moans, her hips bucking back towards me. I slip my finger between her ass cheeks, teasing her tight entrance before moving the cloth over her anus, stroking firmly around the puckered hole.

“Oh, fuck!” Isabella groans, her body starting to shake.

I move my tongue from her anus around to her pussy, swirling it around the opening and tasting her juices that drip onto my tongue. My finger circles her swollen clit, and she lifts her hips to grind herself into my face.

“Oh God, yes,” she cries. “Please, Andrey. Please…” She pushes her head against the towel on the bath, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “I need… I need…” her voice is threaded with a husky lilt from desire.

“You need what, princess,” I ask her, removing my tongue.

“Oh, God, please, please…” Isabella begs. “Please, fuck me. I need to feel you inside me, on me, all over me. Please, please, just fuck me!” She screams.

I chuckle softly at her throaty cries, giving her clit one last swirl of my tongue before kneeling behind her.

My cock is throbbing, aching to be inside her. I slide it deep inside her in a long, smooth stroke, feeling her walls clench around me.

I pull out just as slowly, and Isabella moves her hips impatiently, begging for more. I oblige, thrusting into her again and again, my hands gripping her hips tightly.

She moans and cries out, her body writhing beneath me. I can feel her getting closer, her muscles tensing around me.

“Yes, baby, come for me,” I murmur in her ear. “I want to feel you come all over my cock.”

She cries out, her orgasm hitting her hard. I feel her pussy clenching and pulsing around me, and I can’t hold back any longer. With a few more hard thrusts, I come inside her, my own orgasm washing over me in waves of pleasure.

Holding her close, we collapse into the bath together, both panting and spent. But as her soft mound rubs against me, milking the last pulses of ecstasy, I can’t help but question my actions. Is this just physical gratification or something deeper? At the back of my mind, I know that answer; I just refuse to acknowledge it.

As our bodies cool down in the now lukewarm water, I realize that she has fallen asleep in my arms. A part of me is angry at her for keeping secrets and trying to run away, yet another part of me can no longer deny the love I have for her.

I didn’t just want Isabella the first night I met her—the moment those blazing eyes turned to me, I knew she was the one. My anger is not just that Isabella is trying to run away from this life I lead—it’s that she runs from me as well.

Carefully getting out of the tub, I cradle her against me with a fluffy towel, feeling conflicted as she snuggles closer. Despite everything, my heart still beats for her. But can I ever truly trust her? Isabella has deceived me more than once already with her complacency.

My fear is not just that she tries something stupid again in her obsession to run from this world we live in. It’s what happens if she does get away and lands herself in a position where we don’t get to her in time.

It’s no longer just her life at stake and now I know more about how our lives have been entwined. I fear the minute the word gets out about her pregnancy everyone is going to become a potential threat. While I’d like nothing more than to thank her mother for pushing us together, I’m mad at the deal they’d made with Roman Zhukov. While our parents may have thought it was for our protection, it has just put Isabella and my babies in more danger.

“Princess,” I say softly in her ear. “You’re going to have to help me here. I need to dry you and put you to bed.”

“Okay,” Isabella mumbles and snuggles closer.

I walk to the sofa and sit with her cradled in my lap while I dry her off. She sighs softly when I run the fluffy towel over her skin until I feel she’s dry. I put her to bed and tuck her in.

“Andrey,” Isabella murmurs. “Don’t leave me alone tonight.”

“I won’t,” I tell her. “I’m just going to let the water out of the bath.”

Against my better judgment, I lean down and kiss her tenderly on the forehead. Isabella sighs and flops onto her stomach, spreading herself out like a starfish.

I frown, wondering if that’s the best position for her, but I remember that it’s only once she’s too heavy that she must start lying on her left side for better circulation and comfort. And if we’re having twins, my beautiful wife is going to need a special pillow for her tummy.

After I’ve cleaned the bathroom and go to brush my teeth I realize I don’t have a toothbrush. Fuck! The clerk on the front desk assured me that the story in the lobby was open twenty-four-seven. I’ll go down there quickly and get one.

While taking the lift to the lobby I mull over everything Konstantin told me today. A lot of the pieces are starting to fall into place and the picture is not a very nice one. It basically comes down to Isabella and I being used as a tool for our fathers to pay off a debt and grow their kingdom.

From what I’ve heard about how they’ve already tried to kill Konstantin and Lev, the bastards don’t give a fuck if they have to kill their kids to get what they want. Now I know why both my father and Marco stepped down from their position of power so quickly. Myself and James will take the fall for the containers. Marco and my father can swoop in and save the day with my offspring—fuck I bet the council will love that.

My brow furrows as the doors slide open. I wonder if my mother is involved in all this. Konstantin doesn’t seem to think so, and if he does, he hasn’t said as much. He actually seems fond of my mother, and I get the feeling he thinks of Grace Belov as his second mother.

More fear rips through my chest, this time for my mother. Where does this put her? My mother maintains tight control over Velvet Transport, but if Marco and Ivan have her heir and they are the children’s guardians... I blow out a breath and drop my head back for a few moments. My mother becomes expendable.

As I turn the corner to get to the shop I see two goons dressed in black speaking to the woman at the front desk. I stop and duck behind a post, tilting my head as I see them lift something to show her but I’m not close enough to see it. I push my head forward to hear and my heart slams to a halt for a few seconds.

“We need to find this woman,” he tells her and I notice he has a British accent.

“I’m sorry sir but I can’t disclose information about our guests,” she tells them politely.

“Fuck!” I spin and jump back into the elevator taking the slowest fucking ride to a second floor ever.

As soon as the doors open I’m out of the lift and hurtling toward the room. Once inside I move the heavy dresser against the door before going to wake Isabella.

“Isabella!” I rock her gently. “Wake up, we have to go.”

“What?” She rolls over, opening her eyes and looking at me in confusion.

“We have to go. I think the kidnappers have found you.” I turn and quickly go through all the drawers. She’s only got stuff in a shopping bag. I rush into the bathroom and grab the few things I noticed she had in there.

She climbs out of bed and is completely naked, flooring me. My cock does not care that there are two goons probably on their way up here right now as it stands to attention. I swallow and ignore it as I hear footsteps.

“Fuck!”

“What?” Isbella’s eyes are huge.

“Grab the gown in the bathroom,” I tell her. “You’ll have to get changed in the room next door.”

She frowns, confused, still a bit dazed from sleep but she jumps into action grabbing the gown. I take the bag which is a lot heavier than I expected but I don’t have time to see what’s in there and lead us out onto the balcony.

Isabella locks and pulls the glass door closed as we step into the cold night air. I help her over the railing that separates the room balconies before joining her. The door is still open from when Temur, Konstantin and I went through it.

When we’re inside the next room, Isabella quickly changes into jeans, a cotton shirt, and sneakers. She pulls out a warm jacket and puts it on. My eyes widen in surprise when she pulls out two Glock 19s and hands me one.

“Where the fuck did you get this?”

“Off two of the guards at the lodge,” she tells me. “One of them is short three bullets.”

“Do I want to know?” I gape at her.

“Probably not.” She shrugs, shoving one of the guns into the waistband of her jeans neatly concealed by her jacket. “I’m ready.”

She goes back onto the balcony as we hear the door to the room we were in being pounded against.

“What are you doing?”

“I think our best bet is to jump onto the balcony below and get out that way,” Isabella tells me.

“No fucking way.” I shake my head. “You’re pregnant now.”

Her eyes widened. “Did you take the sonogram?”

I nod and pat my pocket, pulling it out. “I have it.” I show her and she breathes a sigh of relief.

“It’s better than us getting shot,” she reasons. “And we don’t have much time.”

Fuck! This is not going to end well. I nod and we head back out the balcony door, once again closing to make it look like it hasn’t been used.

We carefully climb over the railing, looking down at the balcony below. It’s a risky jump, but it’s our only option. Isabella goes first, landing gracefully and quietly. I follow, feeling the adrenaline surge as I hit the ground next to her.

We move quickly, our breaths visible in the cold night air. I scan the area, listening for any signs of pursuit. Isabella leads the way, her movements swift and deliberate. We scale down another story, using the decorative ledges and pipes as handholds.

Finally, we reach the ground and slip into the shadows, leaving the hotel’s lights behind us. We move stealthily through the grounds, avoiding the main paths, and make our way to the parking area.

“There,” Isabella whispers, pointing to a dark SUV parked in the corner. “That’s our ticket out of here.”

We hurry to the vehicle, and I force the door open. She slides into the passenger seat, and I take the wheel, hot-wiring the ignition. The engine roars to life, and I floor the accelerator, speeding away from the hotel.

As we drive, the tension begins to ease, but my anger simmers beneath the surface. I glance at Isabella, her face illuminated by the dashboard lights. She’s staring out the window, lost in thought as the SUV speeds through the night.

“We’re going to have to let Konstantin know that we’ve had to change the plan,” I tell her. “Do you know where the car rental place is?”

“It’s near the edge of town but it won’t be open,” Isabella tells me.

“I think your brother can sort that out.”

“Not if he’s at the lodge,” she points out. “We could always steal another car.”

“Let’s get to the rental place and see what’s there. Your brother mentioned that the owner of the place was a friend of the Zhukovs.”

Isabella finds the place on the phone Konstantin gave her and directs me there. We pull up into the drive and she notices curtains moving in a flat above the place.

“I think someone lives up there,” Isabella points out as I stop the SUV.

We’ve barely stopped the car when it’s surrounded by five men sporting mean looking automatic weapons.

“Get out the car with your hands in the air,” a man with a Latino accent tells them.

We do as he asks and his men frisk us taking our guns.

“I’m Andrey Belov and this is my wife—“ I don’t get to finish the sentence when the man who ordered us out of the car’s face lights up.

“Little Isabella Moretti?” He waves the guns down. He comes closer. “It is you. You look just like your momma.”

“You know my family?”

“Oh, yes.” He nods a big grin splitting his face. “Your mama’s family saved mine. I’m Rodrigo.” He looks at the car. “This is your SUV?”

“No.” I shake my head. “We had to steal it when two goons showed up looking for us. The one had a British accent.”

Isabella sucks in a breath and looks at me. “Did he have a scar over his face?”

“I don’t know why?”

“The lodge was teeming with mainly British Private Military contractors,” she tells us. “Which is why I don’t think my father is in charge of that operation.”

“No,” Rodrigo agrees with Isabella. “Marco doesn’t trust the British.”

“Maybe that’s all he could get since James is in charge,” I reason.

“No.” Rodrigo shakes his head again. “Marco would still hire local mercenaries and he knows enough of them to create an entirely new army of men.” He turns to one of his men and tells the man to get rid of the SUV.

“My things are in there,” Isabella tells him.

“Here you go, Miss Moretti,” one of Rodrigo’s men brings her shopping bag.

“Give them their guns back,” Rodrigo orders the man who took our weapons. “Come inside.” He ushers us into the car hire place. “I was supposed to meet you at four a.m. tomorrow to bring you the car Konstantin ordered for you.”

“It seems we’re going ahead of schedule,” I tell him.

“Maybe just as well,” Rodrigo says. “We’ll keep an eye on your tail to make sure no one is following as you leave town.”

“Thank you,” I say, hoping I’m trusting the right man here. But Konstantin did say he’d know us, and Rodrigo mentioned Konstantin ordering a car for us and knew the time we were supposed to meet.

We follow Rodrigo out to a garage, where there are a few high-end vehicles in a workshop. As I take in the scene, I realize what the car rental fronts—a chop shop.

Among the cars, one stands out: a sleek, luxury sedan.

“This is your ride,” Rodrigo says, patting the hood of a black Mercedes-Benz S-Class, modified by Brabus. “It’s been discreetly bulletproofed. Perfect for crossing the border without drawing too much attention. And don’t worry, it’s not a hot vehicle. It was legitimately bought and just custom-fitted with the bulletproofing. Konstantin insists on only driving legitimately bought vehicles.”

I nod, impressed by the vehicle. It looks like any other luxury sedan but knowing it can withstand an attack gives me a sliver of relief. Isabella deserves the best protection.

Rodrigo hands me the keys. “It’s loaded with everything you need.” He looks from me to Isabella. “Should you pick up trouble before you’re out of town, head for the tunnels on the east side of town. My men will help you lose any unwanted company.”

I open the door for Isabella, who slips into the passenger seat. I load her bag into the back, making sure the Glock M19 is within reach, but out of sight. Climbing into the driver’s seat, I take a deep breath, admiring the sleek interior.

I start the engine, and the car purrs to life. As we drive out of the garage, I glance at Isabella. “So north?”

She nods, securing her gun beneath her seat where she can get it but it can’t be seen. “As ready as I can be.”

We head toward the border, the modified Mercedes blending in with the night traffic. The car’s modifications are imperceptible to anyone but us. It’s our silent guardian, our escape from the chaos that’s been chasing us.

Isabella opens the glove compartment. There are two passports with our faces in them and a wallet loaded with cash. She puts the passports in the compartment between the seats and relaxes into her seat.