After the climax, we collapsed onto the bed, gasping. Her pussy was slick and swollen, still dripping with our mixed fluids. I pulled out, planting a soft kiss on her forehead.
"Anna, you okay?" I asked gently, my voice laced with concern.
She nodded, a tired smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah... that was... incredible."
I kissed her cheek, warmth flooding my chest. "I waited five years. Couldn't help wanting more."
She chuckled, her eyes shy. "Me too."
As the night deepened, Anna lay quietly in my arms, her breathing steady and soft. I stroked her hair, feeling a satisfaction I'd never known.
In these five years, I'd never dreamed I'd have her back. Now she was here in my hold, our daughter sleeping just rooms away.
Thinking of Sofia, I eased up carefully, not wanting to wake Anna. I slipped on my robe and headed to Sofia's room. In the living room, Yekaterina dozed on the couch, the TV flickering faintly. I went upstairs, pushing open Sofia's door. She hugged her doll in sleep, blanket kicked aside. I stepped over, tucking it back gently, watching her sweet smile melt my heart. This was my daughter, my blood.
I bent down, kissing her forehead. "Goodnight, sweetheart. Daddy loves you."
Back in the bedroom, Anna was half-awake, propped against the headboard, her eyes soft on me. "She okay?" she asked quietly.
"Sleeping like a log," I slid back beside her, pulling her close, "just kicked off the covers."
Anna smiled, snuggling in. "She always does."
I kissed her hair. "Sleep."
Chapter Fifteen
Anna
Morning sunlight filtered through the curtain gaps into the room. I slowly opened my eyes.
The space beside me was empty—Alexander was already gone.
A wave of disappointment washed over me. Was last night real? Or just a beautiful dream?
I reached out and touched the pillow where his warmth still lingered, and my lips curved into an involuntary smile. Not a dream—it was all real. I took a deep breath, trying to steady the emotions churning inside me. This had all happened so suddenly—I wasn't ready for this kind of change.
I glanced at the bedside clock and bolted upright—eight-thirty already! I usually got up at seven to make Sofia's breakfast and get her to daycare.
Damn it, Sofia must be starving!
I threw on clothes and rushed downstairs, my mind racing with explanations for why I'd overslept.
But when I burst into the kitchen, the scene before me stopped me cold.
Alexander stood at the stove flipping eggs while Sofia sat at thetable, happily eating cut fruit. Fresh bread and juice were arranged perfectly on the table.
"Mommy's a sleepyhead!" Sofia giggled when she saw me. "Alex said you needed more sleep, so he made me breakfast!"
Alexander turned with a gentle smile. "Good morning, Anna. Yekaterina had to leave early, but come eat—yours is almost ready."
Warmth flooded my chest.
This feeling... this cozy family picture was something I'd never experienced. For five years, every morning had been me alone, handling everything myself. Even when Yekaterina helped occasionally, that was just a friend's assistance—not family sharing the load. But now someone was making me breakfast, keeping Sofia company, naturally taking on the role of father and partner.
"Thank you," I said, my voice catching.
Alexander caught my emotional shift. When he handed me coffee, his fingers brushed my hand—a touch too subtle for Sofia to notice but enough to make my heart race. "Nothing to thank me for. This is what I should do."
