I did.
My entire body—and probably my soul—shattered into a million pieces, pleasure coursing through me in waves that seemed endless. Ivan growled as I clenched around him, his rhythm becoming erratic, desperate. With a final, powerfulthrust, he ripped himself away. His heavy cock fell on my stomach. Hot ropes of seed shot over my skin as his body went rigid.
The convulsions continued deep inside, but at the same time, my pussy wept at the loss.
That beautiful seed, spreading over me. It didn’t feel right.
It belongs inside me.
He told me once that he wanted to put a baby in me. Fill me up with his seed until I was pregnant. So why this? Why did he deny us when the opportunity was right here?
Ivan reached between us. His finger trailed through the mess.
I lay there panting. Watching. It was as if he were drawing a rune. Perhaps writing magic on my skin.
That was what I told myself to stave off the rush of sadness that was quickly following on the heels of pleasure.
“I already consider you mine, Poppy,” Ivan breathed, looking up through the curtain of hair that fell against his face. “But there are things that need to be done. Things that need to be arranged before I make this permanent.”
What things?I wanted to scream at him!
He must have sensed it. An easy observation, since I was suddenly trembling. “I’ve marked you as mine. But it won’t be nature that solves our problems and binds us. It will be me—and you. Only then will I give you this thing your body craves.”
The idea of such an intimate connection made me delirious, sweetening the pleasure.
I felt him pulsing against me, the sensation triggering a delicious aftershock.
Ivan’s weight pressed me into the mattress, but I didn’t mind. There was something comforting about being pinned beneath him, claimed and marked.After several minutes, he went to rise.
“Where are you going?” I scrambled to catch him.
He paused. “I’ll be right back.”
I shook my head. “Stay.”
He frowned. His nose scrunched. “Don’t you want a warm towel to—” he gestured to my body. “I’ll clean this up.”
“Stay,” I insisted. If I wasn’t running from the idea of us, he wasn’t either.
Ivan grunted and rolled to his side, pulling me against his chest. His fingers traced lazy patterns on my back. I cast my lot with him. Whatever happened next didn’t matter. I was his, and he was mine.
But the words failed me. I couldn’t bring myself to say it. So I lay there, hoping the choice I made and the confession of my body were enough.
Chapter 32 – Poppy
Neither of us spoke about what happened in the bedroom. I wasn’t convinced we knew what it meant, only that there was a monumental shift. Ivan didn’t believe I was staying, and I couldn’t imagine leaving now. Not after that. I accepted his proposal, but nothing more had been said on the matter.
There was nothing for it but to continue the daily routine, trying to entertain the stir-crazy boy who needed space to run and jump, kick and laugh without restraint.
A pumpkin pastry sat on the table. Brady was in the middle of devouring his scrambled eggs, filling his little belly with protein, eager to have a piece of the flaky treat the moment his plate was cleaned.
Rayko pushed through the back door, Ivan close on his heels. The grumpy henchman took one look at the table, and his whole mood changed.
“What’s for lunch?” he asked.
“Mama made Tikvenik!” Brady chirped. “But you have to eat your protein first.”
I rose and cleared my own dishes. “Can I fix you guys something?”
