CHAPTER 94
ALESSANDRA VITELLO VOLKOV
A week. It’s been a tornado of a week.
Yet at least I can breathe. Ethan and Liam have been smothering me with their company or more like hovering over me to make sure I don’t leave them again.
Millie’s been obsessing with everything Moana and today we all took a family trip to Centro Sicilia shopping mall buying everything Moana and everything Paw Patrol.
The kids fell asleep hours ago and right now well…
“Are you sure you are okay?” Brenda asks as ‘Killing Me Slowly’ by Bad Wolves rumbles through the speakers.
I take my tumbler and down that liquor like I need it, because yeah, I need it on a girls’ night out.
“Don’t do that. This is supposed to be fun. It’s the whole point of being here.”
“Having fun is not drowning in alcohol, Lex. It’s okay to breakdown over everything that’s-.”
I raise my hand in mid-air stopping her.
“I’m not breaking down again. I’ve done so for two years and enough is enough. I’m okay, okay? I’m fine.”
I’m completely aware saying okay twice shows how un-okay I am but who cares.
Thena and Brenda exchange looks of concern but by the time one of them says anything to me, I take a shot of tequila,
hands in the air, my feet leading me to the dance floor where ‘Everybody Gets High’ by MISSIO has taken over the speakers.
The news of Weston Marasigan going missing hit the tabloids last week.
A little info from Yan and I found out Lucia Volkov was burned to ashes in He-who-shall-not-be-named’s mansion.
Poppy Woodcock was alive and breathing but with her father spending all the legal money he had on multiple leg surgeries, the Woodcocks ended up being bankrupt. A story of ‘fallen from grace’ and ‘from riches to rags’ all in a week.
I know He-who-shall-not-be-named was responsible for that.
I also know Catelina Di Marco Sokolov has been calling for days because she wants to convince me to talk to her brother.
And I’ve dodged all calls from her and from anyone associated with him because he is the one in the wrong. Not me.
He kicked me out like a dog.
I would have helped. I would even have killed Poppy but he just…
And that’s not even the worst part. He didn’t come for me.
He went to Russia; I know because Cat texted me about it. Cat is his family; I know but what about… I just thought me and our kids would be the first priority and he just…
Placing my empty glass on a tray from a passing waitress, I close my eyes, dropping my hands and running them along my hips as my head tilts side to side to the music.
The thumping of the music, the loud bass of the speakers and the blinking fluorescent lights send a neurotic shiver up my spine as I start jumping in heels.
My hair slaps my face and that increases the crazy need for me to smile and roar like an uncaged bird finally learning it has wings to soar.
My head throbs with euphoria and my body has a mind of its own as I jut my breasts out, swaying my hips from side to side.
The euphoric feeling slightly wavers when warm hands latch on my waist and rough denim tickles the skin on my tummy.
The dress I’m wearing is midnight black, barely reaching my thighs and if I squat or God forbid, bend over, my ass will be out.
The cutout of the dress on the waist was the sole reason I chose this dress. Slutty and the definition of ‘living life on fast lane’.
Which is why I don’t blame the dude in front of me gazing at me like I’m his next bounty on this wild night.
“You like party, bambina?”
He’s a cutie, sure.
But his English is almost as bad as the sloppy smile he’s giving me.
Yet I don’t push him away. I nod. I encourage him. I move my hips against his lean hands and they feel awful.
Why? Because even with the alcohol all I crave is that musky and spicy scent that makes me delirious. All I want is huge, callous and rough hands that dig their fingers into my skin enough to remind me who belongs to who.
Hands that don’t touch me like I’m a delicate china cup.
“You come a lot here?”
I could dignify the blonde man with an answer. Probably tell him to do more dancing and less talking but my words are cut short when my whole body becomes hyperaware of what’s going on.
My body starts dancing in an act of chaos and rebellion.
I can feel HIS eyes. I know he is here. His presence has always been enough to wring me out of breath and right now that presence sears me hot like butter on a skillet.
Is he watching me dance with another man? I hope he can see it. I hope he can see my dress and understand what he lost.
Because you lost me, husband and you’ll never…
The skinny blonde man rips his hands away from me as the lights hit my face with warmth the minute he ups and runs somewhere in the throng of people on the dance floor.
“W—what the heck?”
I slur. Did he just… leave me hanging?
Someone comes up behind me, and another rougher set of denim scratches my ass, I almost moan. Warm and huge set of hands fall on my waist before they slowly and punishingly trek to my hips holding me captive.
Hyperawareness digs its way up my legs, up my spine and travels down to my core shamelessly.
“That’s enough for the night, little nurse.”
His breath skates over my cheeks before his fingers tickle the column of my neck sending goosebumps and jolting electricity everywhere on my skin.
“Don’t. Touch. Me”, I grit but I’m not pulling away.
The thought of pulling away sends a gust of sadness my way.
“You lost the privilege of demanding things when you wore this and fucking let another man touch you”, he growls.
How dare he?
I take a step forward only to be hauled back to his huge warm chest in a thud.
“Let me go. Let me go like you let me go in Newyork.”
“Is that what you are telling yourself? It doesn’t matter now. I could give a shit less about what you think after your little display tonight, wife.”
“I’m not your wife. I’m not your damn anything.”
“Yeah? Want to test that theory?”
“I- I want a divorce”, the words feel like I’m sucking on a sour lime. The ones Liam hates with passion.
Because he did this… two years ago before we got to say our vows, this man had secretly signed the marriage certificate.
When he supposedly died, I put my signature on the other end of the dotted line becoming Mrs. Vitello Volkov.
“That’s cute. I also want to fuck you on this very dance floor to warn everyone who you belong to but I can’t do that, can I? Seems like we are both not getting what we want tonight baby.”
“Vicious-.”
Whatever he was doing to my neck halts altogether. The thick tension between us rises from zero to a hundred in minutes.
“What the fuck did you just call me? I haven’t been Vicious to you in a long time. Husband, baby, Christian, love of your life, owner of this delectable body, father to our kids not Vicious, never Vicious. My patience is running thin here, Tesoro, you come with me or we stay here and I eviscerate any man looking at you the wrong way, it’s your pick.”
“Fuck you.”
He pushed my hair behind my shoulder, his lips taking over where his fingers left.
He breathes on my neck, traveling up, up, up to my ear lobe. Sucking my lobe before licking the sensitive spot behind my ear, he whispers, “I don’t bluff Tesoro you know that. And the first guy who dies will be the blonde Peter Pan touching what wasn’t his a minute ago.”
“I hate you”, I grit when all my resolve disappears into thin air.
“I know. Luckily, my love for you is enough for both of us.”
That’s the only statement that has me blindly allowing him to walk me out of the club.
He walks behind me. Covering my ass so no one gets to see it? Maybe but I’m too mad to see it as a warm sentiment.
When we get out of the club and I can almost see Brenda’s car by the parking lot, Christian pulls me by my waist in a rush.
By the time I blink my eyes open, my back is against the wall and my front is cornered by his chest.
God, he looks handsome tonight. He makes everything look good especially and most especially leather.
He moves his hand to cup my face and I jerk away like his touch will scald me.
“W—what are you doing?”
“Pacifying my wife so she’ll let go of whatever bitterness she has for me.”
“You deserve said bitterness!”
He smiles. Don’t smile at me. Don’t weaponize that smile that does something to my insides.
“Why? Talk to me, why?”
The alley we are in might be dark but some of the light from the club shimmers down to us as the bass of the music vibrates the wall behind me.
We are covered though. No one can see us and he knows it. He might have planned this all along.
“Why? You are seriously asking me that after you…”
My words fall back down my throat with a thud when his palm, cold and eerily hot touches my inner thigh.
If he moves an inch upper, he’ll find my panties. Find my wetness that is subject from my body reacting to him and the whole situation altogether.
“I what, Tesoro?”
“Y—You left me! Y- you allowed me to leave. You let me go!”
His fingers draw close to my panties, pulling them to the side before he thrusts two of his fingers inside me without any mercy robbing me of air.
“Ch… Christian, please…”
“I left you once because the choice of staying was taken from me. In New York, I couldn’t have you fighting this war again not after you dirtied your hands for two years because of me. Your Christian slays your demons, that’s the job you handed to me and I take it seriously, Tesoro. I fight for you. I breathe for you. I love you and those kids more than I do myself.”
He pushes deeper, my hands fling to his neck, my pussy weeping in shallow pants.
Maybe it’s the alcohol or his words because the ball of emotions wobbling in my throat threatens to choke me as I spill out, “W- why did you not come to us? You went to Russia. You didn’t want to see our kids first.”
A hot tear cascades down my cheek but his forehead links with mine giving me warmth as another thrust stretches me wide and hits my pleasure point.
“Who held your hand when you gave birth to Ethan and Liam?”
“C-Cat”, I whisper. She insisted on doing it then I passed out before they could get Liam out and I thought my baby wouldn’t making it.
“That’s right. Maximo told me everything and I had to thank her first before I came to you, to our boys. Cat also happened to have videos of you in and out of the maternity ward. I wasn’t there when you gave me those two miracles but those videos sure as hell made me feel like I was there. Like I was there, wiping those tears away as you kissed Liam on his forehead. Like I was there when you held Ethan and Liam for the first time. Like I was there, in those birthday videos that showed you being the best mother those boys could ask for. I was in Russia, learning every tidbit of information about our kids before I came to ask for forgiveness for not being present like a husband should have. I’m sorry, little nurse. Sorry.”
“No”, my hands now grip his shoulders as my pussy clenches around his fingers.
“No, you won’t forgive me? Or no you want me to pull out?”
My fingers dig into his shoulders.
“Don’t you dare… pull out. Don’t. Please.”
His fingers curl inside me as he rubs my g-spot an action that has me screaming his name and bucking my hips to him.
“I love you, Tesoro mio. Always have. Always will. You feel that?”
My toes curl.
His lips latch on my skin, kissing me lightly.
I completely lose myself on his fingers. The same fingers that are knuckle deep while drenched and soaked with my juices.
“I love that. Knowing I’m the only man who can make her sing like this fills my heart with joy. Makes me so fucking proud to call you mine. Mine, Tesoro. Mio.”
“Yours”, I moan, my body arching from the wall.
“Are we still getting that divorce?” he teases, I ride his hands while he grips my right hip to his thigh.
Pleasure hits and whips me till I can do nothing but heave.
“That’s right, baby. Come for me. Show me whose good girl you are.”
And I show him.
I kiss him. I get lost in his taste, scent and hands.
Divorce is too far from my mind right now. I’ll never divorce him whether it’s the alcohol talking or not.
XxX
Soon as we reached home. In his old room. The room I have occupied for two years.
He bathed me, held me as I sobbed for all the years I came to this room and found no comfort in it.
He got me water, made me sober up a bit before he spent almost an hour between my legs, eating me out till I fell asleep.
Right now, as I wake up, no migraine haunting me, my heart swells when I open my eyes and see him.
It almost feels too surreal.
“Morning”, I mumble sleepily.
“Morning, sunshine. Headache?”
“No.”
“You sore?”
“No.”
And that’s when I realize my legs are on both sides of his hips, his dick too close to my entrance.
“Good because I’ve been dying since last night to feed you my cock.”
I chuckle.
“God it’s you, isn’t it? Only Christian Volkov would say words like that unashamed.”
“You are ashamed of my cock filling your tight cunt?”
“No. I want to…”
He teases his cock between my folds and my clit throbs.
“Want to what, wife? I need words.”
“Want you to stretch my cunt till it’s sore.”
He pushes the head inside and I clench around him hard.
“Can I see them after this?”
“What?”
“The children, baby. I want to see them. Is that okay?”
“You want to talk about the children while you are half way inside me?”
“Yeah, if we are going to make more, I want to-.”
“You are their father, Christian. You can see and talk to them anytime you want.”
“Is that a yes to making more babies?”
I chuckle and he takes that as invitation because he ruts into me in one go and it feels like it’s the first time, I’m having sex with him.