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Viktor
Never in all my years have I experienced pleasure as great as taking Caterina in the ass for the first time. I’m far from inexperienced—I’ve had plenty of sexual experiences over the years that might be termedadventurous,even exotic. Still, none of those pleasures, however delicious, could have compared to the sweet tightness of her ass clenched around me, her heated skin under my palms, the way her body writhed and twisted as she fought the orgasm that she couldn’t escape.
Not to mention the exquisite bliss of filling her ass with my cum.
She was right, of course, I won’t get her pregnant that way. Which means for all my threats, I don’t plan to take her there often. But nothing was going to stand in my way last night.Nothing.
Caterina came back home. That means one thing, whether she wants to accept it fully or not—she agrees to be my wife in all ways. To fulfill her role without trying to bargain further on her own behalf. It’s intoxicating to have that power over her at last, especially after she tried so hard to keep it from me. I’ve possessed her now in a way that no other man ever has, and all it’s done is make me want more of her.
Which is why I tell her, over dinner the next night, that she’ll be coming with me on my business trip.
“We leave tomorrow,” I tell her, stabbing a small roasted potato with my fork. “Sasha can help you pack if need be. The girl needs practice taking orders around the place.”
I can see Caterina’s face darken at the mention of Sasha, but I ignore it. I’ve purposefully never addressed how she came to be here, and Caterina has never asked, although I’m sure after the explosion of files in my office that she has a reasonable idea. It should make her softer towards me, to think that I saved one of the girls from the fate Caterina finds so despicable, but it hasn’t seemed to have that effect. If anything, I see her glancing suspiciously between the two of us whenever Sasha is in the room, which is easy enough to figure out.
She thinks I’ve brought Sasha here for my own pleasure, which couldn’t be further from the truth. What I find amusing about it, though, is that if she truly wants to stay out of my bed, she ought to be glad to have another woman take her place.
Caterina would say it’s aboutmorals, about Sasha being kidnapped andforcedto serve, but I know the truth. It’s about the simple fact that deep down, Caterina wants me. And she can’t bear to admit it.
Somehow, it brings me even more pleasure in our coupling. Shaming my princess, fucking her with the cock she claims to be disgusted by, turns me on more than I would have ever thought. She can’t escape it, not now. She can believe that she’s better than me as much as she wishes, just like every other fucking Italian in this city, but at the end of the night, she has to spread her legs for me.
She’s contractually bound to do so. And it fucking turns me on like nothing else.
“What?” Caterina lowers her fork, looking at me with the wide, shocked expression that I’d expected. “What do you mean, I’m going with you? A business trip? Where?”
“Russia,” I say casually, slicing into my meat and enjoying the sudden expression of horror on Caterina’s face. “I wish to have my wife with me, that’s what. Your job is to be on my arm when needed, an ornament for me to impress my betters with, and that’s exactly what you’ll do.”
“I don’t want to leave the girls here,” Caterina says, shaking her head. “You wanted me to take care of them, to take some of the pressure off of Olga. How will I do that if I’m in Russia with you?”
I can feel my expression darken.How dare she bring up the children after what she did.“I think you’ve donequite enoughfor the girls,” I say tightly, glaring at her. “You can prove yourself to be better at being a wife than you have at being a mother, if you do well. It’s time you learned to honor theobeypart of your vows, Caterina, or have you forgotten about those?”
Her cheeks flush, the high points of her cheekbones reddening, and she drops her gaze to her plate. Across from her, the girls are very silent. Anika has a small smile on her face, but Yelena looks miserable.
“I don’twantCaterina to go,” she says, dropping her spoon onto the floor. “I want her to stay here and play dolls with me.”
“I know,” I tell her gently, with as much patience as I can muster. “But I have things that I need her for as well. She’ll be back soon, I promise.”
Yelena purses her lips. “Pinky swear?”
It’s hard to keep a straight face, but I manage somehow. “Pinky swear,” I affirm, and Yelena’s face relaxes a little.
“You should leave her in Russia,” Anika mutters. “I can’t believe she’s still here after she tried tostealus.”
Caterina’s head snaps up at that, her expression wounded. For a moment, I consider letting it go—after all, I’d believed the same thing when Caterina had taken the girls to her former home. But Anika’s stubborn refusal to accept Caterina is helping no one.
And besides that, some small part of me revolts at the idea of Caterina looking so miserable, particularly over something that I know isn’t true.
“She didn’t try to steal you,” I tell Anika, still forcing patience into my tone. “She just made a mistake and didn’t tell me before going back to visit her old house, that’s all. She wanted to show you around a place that means something to her, that’s all.”
It’s not quite the truth, but I can’t explain more to Anika without telling her things that she’s both too young to hear and that I hope she’ll never know. Caterina is looking at me, her face faintly shocked, and I glance over at her.
“Thank you,” she mouths when Anika drops her gaze back to her plate, sullenly glaring down at her dinner. There’s a small, grateful smile on Caterina’s face, and it warms my heart in a way that I don’t entirely understand. I shouldn’t care—she’s caused me more trouble in the past days than I’ve had to deal with under my own roof in a long time. But she is my wife. And more than anything, I want a peaceful marriage, if not a happy one.
“I expect you to be packed and ready to go tonight,” I say curtly, ignoring her thanks. “The plane leaves in the morning. Pack a few dresses appropriate for formal events, and jewelry, etcetera.”
“Alright.” Caterina’s gaze drops back to her plate, and I let out a small breath of relief that she’s decided not to fight me any longer on it. That, at least, is handled for the evening.
She’s still packing when I come up for bed, folding clothes into a black monogrammed suitcase, and I watch her for a moment before she realizes that I’m there.
