Page 82 of Sexting the Single Pakhan

The orgasm rips through me, hard, wet, endless. I cry out his name, body convulsing, liquid heat gushing between us, soaking his cock, his thighs, the leather beneath him.

He groans low, reverent. “That’s it… fuck, yes… look at you. So fucking beautiful. I’m so proud of you, solnyshko.”

I collapse against his chest, trembling, aftershocks still pulsing through me. His arms wrap tight around me, one hand stroking my back in slow, soothing circles.

“That’s my good girl.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Leonid

Alexei looks up at us from the bottom step, eyes wide and hopeful. “Really?” he asks, voice small but bright as we tell him about Laurel’s and my relationship.

Laurel smiles, soft, the kind that reaches her eyes and makes everything in the room feel warmer. “Yeah, Alexei. Really.”

He blinks between us, processing. Then, in that direct way only six-year-olds have, he asks: “So… are you guys getting married?”

Laurel’s smile falters for half a second. She glances at me, cheeks pink. “Uhm… not really.”

I step in. “Not yet,” I say, keeping my tone even.

The truth is, I’d walk us both to the courthouse right this minute if she gave the word and make her mine on paper.

Alexei’s face scrunches. “Will you come back to teach my class?”

Laurel crouches to his level, one hand gentle on his shoulder. “Unfortunately, no. I won’t be going back to your school.”

His shoulders slump. “But I like you being my teacher.”

My chest tightens at the quiet hurt in his voice. Laurel’s expression softens further. She squeezes his shoulder. “Hey… you’re going to see a lot more of me now. We can spend time after school. We can go for those ice creams you like, the ones with the cookie chunks and extra sprinkles. With your dad, too.”

Alexei’s eyes flick to me for confirmation.

I nod. “Yeah. We will.”

The smile that breaks across his face is the widest I’ve ever seen. Not the small one he saves for me on good days. This one lights up every inch of him, cheeks round, eyes crinkling, dimples I didn’t know he had. It’s pure, unguarded joy. My throat closes. I’ve never seen him look like that.

He bounces on his toes. “Can you read me my bedtime stories too?”

Laurel glances at me, amused. I raise an eyebrow at him. “Hey. I thought you liked it when I read them.”

Alexei answers in rapid Russian, too quick and too smug for his age. That little sucker.

Laurel tilts her head, waiting for translation.

I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. “He says I don’t do the character voices right.”

Alexei shrugs, completely unapologetic. “You don’t.”

Laurel lets out a soft, delighted laugh, and touches his cheek. “Of course I’ll read you your bedtime stories.”

“Fantastic!” he shouts, then spins and bolts upstairs, footsteps thundering like he’s racing the moon.

Laurel stands slowly, watching the empty staircase with a fond smile. “He’s so happy.”

“Yeah.” My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that happy. All thanks to you.”

She turns to me, shaking her head. “I didn’t do anything.”