Page 69 of Captive Bride


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Viktor

I’d wondered if what I had planned for today was the right choice. But after the gala last night and what happened between us this morning, I don’t falter.

Caterina was the picture of the perfect Bratva wife last night. She was beautiful, elegant, polite, well-spoken, everything that I could have ever dreamed of. She charmed the men and was friendly with the women, and I find myself looking forward to tonight and the second gala we’ll be attending.

Not least of which because I’m hoping for a repeat of what came after.

I hadn’t expected my wife to come on to me, wine-drunk and eager, but I wasn’t complaining. I certainly wasn’t this morning, either, when I awoke to her gaze lazily drifting over me and her naked body next to mine and knew that I had to have her again.

Sex with Caterina has been alternately frustrating, infuriating, longed-for, and more passionate than I could have expected. Her body feels made for me every time I slip inside of her, hot and tight and wet for me, and her delicate beauty never fails to arouse me. I know that I don’t want it to end after I’ve gotten her pregnant. I don’t want her to stop coming to my bed once she’s fulfilled my most basic demand.

I want to possess her in every way, entirely, for as long as I live.

I want mywife.

Is that such a sin?

Part of me is still terrified to get too close to her. To let myself feel anything, even lust, for her. The memory of what happened with Vera is still too fresh.

Which is why I’ve made the decision about today and what Caterina needs to see.

I need to know that she can handle it before I let this go any further.

We shower together, taking our time. My meeting isn’t until the afternoon, and I enjoy the time with Caterina now that things have thawed between us somewhat. I’m not entirely sure what changed, but I’m not eager to examine it too closely. Instead, I enjoy the peace and the simple pleasure of doing something like showering in the morning with my wife.

I’ve fucked her twice in the last several hours, and yet I can’t stop myself from reaching for the soap and washcloth, turning her back to me as I run it over her smooth body. She stiffens momentarily and then relaxes into my arms, and I bring my hand lower, washing away the traces of my cum from her thighs.

But I don’t stop there. I bring the washcloth higher, letting the textured cloth drag between her folds, over her clit. When I feel her shudder of pleasure, I let the cloth fall, rubbing her clit in quick, tight circles before thrusting my fingers into her, feeling the heat of her arousal and her pussy still full of my cum from last night and this morning.

Her head falls back against my shoulder, and my cock hardens against her ass as I finger her, intent on making her come again. “Come on my fingers, princess,” I whisper in her ear, and she whimpers, shuddering against me as her thighs start to tremble.

God, I love the feeling of her pussy tightening around my fingers or cock when she comes. She always clamps down like a vise, squeezing as if she doesn’t ever want to let me go, as if she wants to milk every last drop of cum out of my cock. I feel her shudder against me as she cries out, her ass arching back and grinding against me, and I slide my other arm around her waist, pushing her up against the wall as I grab my cock and thrust it into her hard.

It’s been years since I’ve fucked a woman this many times in this short a span, but it’s as if every time I get close to Caterina, my cock is instantly rock-hard. I can’t remember the last time I was this turned on by a woman, but I’m not about to fight it. I’d rather give in to it, feel every inch of my cock being enveloped by her wet heat as I fuck her to another orgasm.

It doesn’t take long. I’d thrust myself into her just as she was coming down from her first, replacing my fingers with my cock. I feel her start to tremble with another climax only moments later, her head thrown back as she arches against me, her gorgeous, pert ass grinding against me as I fuck her like it’s the last time I’ll ever be inside a woman.

In my line of work, you can never be sure.

“Fuck!” I curse aloud as I feel myself start to come again, my cock almost painfully hard as I spill myself inside of her, the hot rush of my cum mingled pain and pleasure after coming so many times since last night. She feels so fucking good, hot and tight. I pump myself into her again and again, the feeling of her wet pussy dragging along my oversensitive shaft and tip, sending waves of ecstasy all the way down to my toes.

Caterina’s head drops forward as I slip out of her, and I can see her panting softly. There’s a moment of tension as she straightens, not looking for me, and then she bends down, scooping the washcloth off of the shower floor. Just the sight of her bent over like that is almost enough to make me hard again—I feel a throb in my wilting cock—but four times is asking a bit too much.

“Well, I was clean,” she says with a laugh, “but I guess I’m going to need this again.”

I let her have the bathroom while I dress, and I can hear her going through the motions of getting ready. When she emerges, her hair is curled and shiny around her face. She’s dressed in a cranberry-red sheath dress made out of what looks like a light, almost summer-weight wool that clings to her, outlining the shape of her slender body. She steps into her heels, not quite looking at me, and then when she does look up, the smile on her face is cool and collected. “I’m ready when you are,” she says.

I can feel her starting to get spooked, to withdraw, after what’s happened since last night. That’s the last thing I want, and it once again makes me question if I’ve made the right decision today. But all I can do is push forward, so I grab a light coat, nodding towards the door. “Let’s go.”

Caterina is quiet on the drive, but she doesn’t look angry. I can only guess what she’s thinking, and that feels like a losing game, so I focus instead on the meeting ahead and how Caterina will react.

She looks slightly confused as we pull up to the private airport, and the car stops on the tarmac. I take her hand as she steps out, and she glances at me, frowning.

“What’s going on?”

I nod towards the plane as the door opens and the ramp is lowered. “I wanted you to see. What I told you yesterday—that the women are treated well, that I’m kind to them, that I’m giving them a chance for something better than they might otherwise have had—I wanted you to see that for yourself. So that we can move forward, together.”

Caterina is absolutely silent. I see two of my brigadiers getting off the plane, and then the girls start to come down the ramp, shivering and quiet. Not one of them speaks, hustled towards the waiting vans by the brigadiers and lower-level men waiting by the van for them, and I reach for Caterina’s elbow, steering her around so that she can see the inside of the vans.

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