She’s been a bit all over the place since we found out about the baby. I’m not entirely sure she’s remembered, but it doesn’t matter.
All that matters is she’s mine and slowly we’re rebuilding everything I lost, together.
* * *
I walkinto our town house holding a bouquet of red roses.
The scent of beef stroganoff filters through the corridor, making my stomach rumble. Although the Gurin Bratva is gaining traction, we’re not yet at the point where we can afford a cook, so Anya has been learning all her old favorites that Nadia used to cook.
I walk into the kitchen to find it a complete and utter mess, chuckling to myself.
Anya’s eyes widen when she sees me. “You are home early!”
“Yes, and it seems you are destroying our kitchen.”
She places her hands on her hips and blows out a breath, flour all over her blue blouse. “It’s not easy cooking, you know?”
I smirk. “I’m pretty sure it’s possible to cook without making this mess.”
She frowns. “Don’t be an ass. I’m making you dinner.”
I walk toward her and place a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, printessa.” I place the flowers in her hand. “These are for you. Happy Anniversary.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh shit, I completely forgot.”
Today is the second year anniversary of the day we married at the registry office in London and became Mr. and Mrs. Gurin, before boarding a plane to Boston the next day.
I shake my head. “Baby brain, right?”
She smiles. “Something like that. I’m sorry.”
I grab her hips and pull her close. “Don’t worry, malishka. I know a few ways you can make it up to me.”
Her brows pull together. “A few?”
I chuckle. “Yes.” My lips skate over her skin. “But we will save that for after dinner.”
“At least I cooked, even though I’d forgot.” She signals to the pot on the stove with the stroganoff in.
“It does smell divine.” My eyes dip to her dirty, flour coated clothes. “But not as divine as you.”
She shakes her head. “I’m a mess.”
“Never,” I murmur, stalking toward her. “You’re always beautiful.”
Her cheeks flush a pretty pink as I yank her against me, not caring that I’m getting flour all over my designer suit. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Her eyes widen as she sees the mess on my suit. “You are getting messy.”
I kiss her then, silencing her, as I don’t care. All I want is to enjoy my wife. I break the kiss and gaze down at my beautiful printessa, who’s been glowing ever since we found out she’s pregnant.
When we break apart, she has that look in her eyes that tells me she’s ready for more. “Bend over for me, malishka.”
She eagerly walks over to the kitchen table and bends over, glancing at me with a look that makes my balls ache.
“Are you taunting me?”
She shakes her head. “No, I just can’t wait to feel your cock deep inside of me.”
“Inside which hole?” I ask.