Her tits bounce as I fuck her. This time I manage to go slowly. I’m making love, not fucking her. My head is spinning as the realization runs through me.
This is fucking bad. I’m in deep, and not just the physical meaning.
My body stiffens as my climax takes over, forcing myself deep inside her. She cries out. I grunt and unload inside her.
“Fuck, baby,” I growl into her ear, gently closing my teeth around her lobe. “Your pussy is heaven.”
“I’m coming, Daddy!” she moans, grinding and writhing against my cock as I dump my seed inside her, knowing full well what the consequences of that will be.
My heart tries its best to force its way out of my chest as I think of our future together. A family, children, the man that I will become.
Fuck, Anton, what are you doing?
“Where did you come from?” I ask as I draw breath into my lungs. Gently, I stroke her hair back and lift up to get a good look at her angelic face. She’s glistening, looking more heavenly than ever. She smiles, setting my soul on fire.
“Becky’s Diner. Before that? Mexico.”
This was supposed to be fake.
Something to make my father happy.
But now I’m in over my head. Now I’m the one who’s trapped. And there’s no way out. And the scary thing is, I’m not even sure I want one.
7
Mia
The air is warm, and the sun is just right as I lie by the pool with my new husband.
What am I wearing? Nothing. And as per our new ground rules, I am fully expecting some action from him in the near future.
I called in this morning and quit my job at Becky’s. Nothing ever felt better. My boss, Jerry, was a jerk and took the news poorly. He told me they would be better off without, and I quote, a “lazy, smart-mouthed, badly behaved bitch who was always passing her work off to others.”
In reality, I was the place’s best worker and was always picking up the slack for everyone else there. It was one of the main reasons they started divvying up tips among everyone—so they could all dip into what I was earning. Anton shredded my work uniform and we ceremoniously threw it in the trash together.
We spent the morning in Vegas. He showed me the sights, but I wanted to get back to his home with him, so we took a flight back before lunch.
And suddenly, I went from the help to the queen.
Anton’s home is more a palace than a house. Well, I guess it’s my house now too, although that’s something I still can’t wrap my head around.
But honestly, I’d be happy living in a one-bedroom cottage with him if it meant being with him.
Because there’s something aching deep down in my stomach. There’s a tightness in my chest—a beautiful tightness that I can’t shake and hope I never do.
Love.
I’m in love with Anton Todorov.
It’s a silly realization to have after you’ve married a man, but then again, nothing about my relationship with Anton could be classified as remotely traditional.
He made the call before we got on the plane and assured me that my mother and brother would be with me by the end of the week. I cried in his arms three times on the flight home.
Everything is perfect.
I hear the door open behind me and look up to see my husband come outside wearing suit pants and a Lacoste polo.
“Hey, where’s your suit?” I ask, sitting up.