22. Vitali

TWENTY-TWO

Vitali

I make a mental note to change Viktor’s room so he’s not stuck on a bed too small for him as I drag my girl behind me to go to my second favorite place – the kitchen. I don’t know who orders the meals, but they always stock up on my favorites.

I’m nearly thirty years old and I should be embarrassed but who gives a fuck, I could barely make toast without burning it when I was a kid and if Vlad wanted to baby us I wasn’t going to stop him.

Stasi’s cute as fuck with a faint blush on her cheeks. I can’t stop myself and bite it as I pull her to stand in front of me.

“What are you doing?”

Her whisper isn’t helping me as I rest my chin on her shoulder and push my hand through the robe so I can hold her waist. I sway side to side, loving being able to have my girl in my arms. “I want to show you something.”

She laughs without any sound. After hearing her real laugh it’s a waste that she doesn’t use it all the time. When she gives me shit I become even more obsessed with her.

“The fridge? I know what one looks like.”

I bite her cheek again and pull the door open without removing my arm from her. “Yeah, but yours is empty. Look at this, this is how it’s supposed to be, malysh.”

I’m going to start force feeding her if I don’t see her eat something soon. Or begin dosing her meals so I know she’s getting something of substance in her leafy diet. I melt inside when she leans back into me and holds my forearm. I have everything to die happy in my arms and I load up healthy items like fruit in case in case Dr. Stasi judges my choices.

I grab our food and lead her out towards the paddock. It’s the best spot to watch the sun come up and the horses are usually quiet at this time in the morning. Her feet stall when we reach the steps at the other end of the pool, and she looks around, checking for other people. My beautiful woman doesn’t realize we can do whatever we want, no fucker’s opinions matter, she can strip and run through the property naked, and I’ll follow after her getting rid of the fuckers who witness it.

Picking her up with one arm behind her knees, I ignore the protests hissed into my back as she folds over my shoulder.

“Put me down, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

Bullshit. I prove it by lifting my shoulders and jolting her body as I go to what will become our spot. I could do that little skip-jump shit they do in movies as long as Stasi is next to me. Reaching the perfect spot where I usually get high, I sit my woman down on the table with the tray beside her. Two things I need: Stasi and food. Both of them are edible and provide me with energy.

I take the seat in front of her and become an owl turning my head to make sure we’re out of sight before massaging up her thighs. What’s better than having my head between her legs? Watching the sun come up as I do it. She shoves a piece of melon into my mouth to stop me and asks, “Your turn, tell me your secrets, Vartanov.”

My girl is talkative, and my dick is harder than steel watching her lick the juice off her fingertips.

I’m not a secretive person, everyone knows shit about my life, even if the things in my head are different to what they see. It’s all bitter and resentful when I don’t feel that shit in my heart, and I can’t stop it coming out after she was honest with me, so I admit, “I’m the one who always wanted kids but I’m the only one without them.”

I sound envious as fuck. It’s not resentment though, it’s something too difficult to explain. I had a plan for life – have my family by the time I was twenty-one so I can keep them for longer.

Stasi doesn’t judge my asshole thoughts and sits forward, holding my shoulders. Her smile is warm as she points out the obvious. “I don’t think anyone would wish the circumstances that your brothers became fathers on themselves. It’ll happen for you, luchik.”

Pushing away the seriousness of the movement, I lift my brows and pointedly look at her stomach. “I did just fuck you raw.”

She pushes against my forehead with two fingers, and I flatten my palm on her stomach. It starts as a joke, but my imagination runs away with the thought. She’d be an amazing mother, all fierce protector and probably beat the shit out of a kid if they said anything to ours.

Delicate fingers wrap around my wrist, and she peels my hand away. There’s a lump in her throat and she stares into the distance, putting herself down.

“No kid would deserve my issues.”

She’s full of shit, other people’s bullshit opinions that have no fucking weight. I’ve witnessed this woman in every light and the only issue she has is that her family are cunts. It’s an easy fix and they’ll never get close to her again now that she’s mine. My ring is still on her finger, and I lift her hand to press my lip to the knuckle directly below my claim. I don’t remove them as I try to get her to see reality.

“You’re perfect, Asya, absolute perfection and there is nothing wrong with you. You have a warm heart that you hide, but it just makes it better when all the ice is chipped away because you allowed it to survive in a contradiction. You’re good and so fucking beautiful, not just physically, but your soul is exquisite. Don’t let other people direct your own thoughts, apart from me. You should definitely listen to me and stop running.”

The soundless laugh comes again as she cups my cheek. I kiss her palm as I look up at and the sky slowly begins to lighten. Her pain is going to kill me, it’s too visceral and it’s twisted her DNA.

“I gave you shit advice,” I whisper with remorse weighing me down.

I told her to kill parts of herself and I created the only issue I have with her. Her hand drops from my face, and I hold her thighs as I lean forward, resting my chin in the center of her chest, praying that I can undo my mistake.

“Bring every part of Stasi out, don’t let them die. She deserves to live fully, and so do you.”

She freezes, her eyes becoming more guarded as her arms hang limply at her sides. A breeze blows past us, and I pull the hood of the robe over her head before wrapping my arms around her and sliding her to straddle me. I don’t know if she can hear me through the plush material and my volume is low, not wanting to force any more issues out.

“Eat with me, sweetness.”

I want to see her actually enjoy something, not push a bunch of grass around her plate with disappointment, the horses have less leaves in their diet than she does. She comes back to life and kisses my cheek softly, so softly that they don’t fully touch as she shifts so she’s sitting on my thigh.

She doesn’t make me force feed her and lays her head on my shoulder as she reaches for fruit. Fucking health nut. It’s just my luck that I found the perfect woman, but she’s controlled in my vice. Each bite she takes is alternated and she holds the fruit at my lips. There’s literally chocolate in front of us and she’s skipping it. She breathes out as the sun rises and the golden rays light up her beautiful face. I usually stare transfixed at it to convince myself we’ve got out from Len and Anika, but I can’t tear my eyes away from my girl.

The soft smile widens at the deep nicker coming from the stables and she shakes her head as she whispers, “You’re so weird for having horses.”

Her dark eyes are lighter with the sun reaching them. The reflection is cast at me as she looks up and I kiss her crown as I ask, “Want to feed them?”

Fuck me, I’m not prepared to see an excited Stasi. She nods and looks so innocently giddy I could eat her face. She doesn’t have any shoes on, so I stand with my arm banded around her waist and haul her up until she’s sitting on my shoulders. She turns rigid and grabs the robe. “I don’t have anything on underneath.”

I shrug and hold her calves as I kiss each of her knees, walking towards the stable.

“My head is blocking anything from being seen. And I’ll kill anyone who says anything. You just keep your pretty head above everyone where it belongs and let me deal with anyone who’s lower than you.”

The edge of her hood brushes my forehead as she leans over me to kiss the top of my head. The neighing and nickering gets louder as we enter the stables with my girl on my shoulders, her legs hooked under my arms. A perfect day.

I grab the box of sugar cubes, apples, and carrots for her to feed them. She’s cute as fuck, wanting to be on her feet to get close to them. I let her down to stand on the bench and pick her up so she’s facing me, but she twists her head with her face melting as she stares at the animals.

I’d eat hay if she looked at me like that.

I don’t go to Viktor’s horse. That bastard is temperamental as fuck, but he pokes his head through the stall and stares at my girl without snorting. I have to threaten him, so he knows not to do some crazy shit like smacking his head into her.

“Be nice to my girl or we’ll sell you, okay?”

She laughs — her real laugh — and hugs me as she playfully gives me shit. “Are you expecting it to answer you?”

I nod and walk closer. “They’re clever as fuck, especially him. He smiles at Viktor but hates everyone else. We should call him Vlad.”

She takes an apple for the horse, and I stop in front of the stall. For some reason I keep talking as I watch her face light up. “When Vik came home after them fuckers took him, Thunder laid down and let him curl up on him in the paddock. He’s intelligent but a full-on asshole.”

He nods, proving I’m right and my girl strokes his mane, speaking in the sweetest voice that she’s ever had.

“He’s lying, isn’t he? You’re a good boy.”

The fuck? I swear the fucker is smirking at me.

I move back to get her to stop touching the damn thing, but she stretches forward, making it worse with a cooed, “Pretty boy.”

The horse is definitely smirking at me, the smug fuck.

Stasi lets out a huff as I drop her on her feet and I grab her jaw to slam my lips over hers. She holds my biceps, moaning into me as I bite out, “Don’t call anyone else a pretty boy. Or good boy.”

She freezes then throws her head back, laughing so hard that tears spring to her eyes. I love the sound and bite her neck as though it can allow me to own it. The beautiful sound ends in a sigh, and she kisses my cheek, easing me.

“Don’t be jealous of a horse, luchik, it’s a bad look.”

“I’m jealous of anything that has your attention when it’s not something you give freely.”

It’s weak to admit it, but there’s no lie. I’d happily become an inanimate object if it meant I got an ounce of her attention. There’s no deflection, she simply kisses me and pushes herself against me as though she wants to be inside my chest as much as I’m begging her to take over me.