Page 49 of Broken Vows (Marital Privileges #4)

Mikhail

A s my muscles burn through the aftermath of Emerson’s umpteenth orgasm, I drive into her on repeat. The call for last drinks was announced only an hour ago, but when I walked in on Emerson slipping off her panties in preparation for close of business, I lost all sense of control.

One minute, I was stalking her from afar. The next minute, I hooked her legs around my shoulders, and buried my head between her legs.

I ate her until she screamed my name loud enough to warn the staff not to enter the storage room unannounced, and her juices flooded my tongue not once but twice.

Then I entered her slowly, almost torturously, like I did in the woman’s bathroom of the gala a second after she proudly spelled her name for the media in attendance.

Contrary to expectations, she didn’t retain Morozov as her surname. She didn’t even hyphenate our names together. She gave them the name she had practiced signing for months before we had planned to elope, and she said it with pride.

“Emerson Dokovic, wife of Mikhail Dokovic.”

The way she said “wife” echoes in my mind, and it shifts our exchange from calm and loving to wild and out of control.

I thrust in deep, growling when the walls of Emerson’s pussy cling to my cock, milking me for my release. The neckline of my shirt is damp, my thigh muscles are aching, and my balls are hurting from how many times I’ve staved off my release, but I refuse to relent.

I love this. Fucking my wife. And I’m not close to having my fill.

Sweat runs down my forehead as my chest heaves with exertion. It is hot as fuck in the storage room, but it has nothing to do with the unghastly setting of the manufactured air.

I love taking her like this, nailing her to the shelves like I did when we were teens, while she moans my name on repeat. Except this time, I appreciate what I have more than I did back then.

Emerson was right. A reimagination isn’t about making a shitty remake of an overworked storyline. It is exciting and fresh, better than anything I’ve experienced. The past two weeks have been magical, and it isn’t always about sex.

We’ve talked, cooked, laughed, and reminisced.

And we showed those stiffs who ridiculed me last time that I’m wealthier than they will ever be. I got the girl, the success, and the envy of everyone in my realm.

I can’t remember the last time I felt so at peace. It was honestly over a decade ago.

Emerson has always been able to do that—make me forget my worries. I had the world on my shoulders when we met, but she made it seem manageable. Weightless. She made it seem inconsequential.

When Emerson’s back arches, bringing her breasts to within an inch of my face, I become even harder. While circling my lips around the bud of her nipple through the cotton fabric of her shirt, I stretch her wide.

I gently tug on it with my teeth, bringing her moans up from a whisper to a roar. Her arms wrap around my neck as tremors wrack through her. She is close to coming again, to surrendering to the madness that has kept our sleep at a minimum for the past week.

Emerson’s mewls have me desperate to taste her again, to feel the quivers of her orgasm with my tongue this time instead of my cock.

Since I’ve never had the ability to deny myself of this woman, I move forward with my plans rather fast.

Banding an arm around her legs, I withdraw my aching cock and hoist her up the shelves, and then my mouth finds her drenched slit. I lick her possessively, each stroke of my tongue chanting the same word through my head.

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

As her cries grow desperate, I eat her faster. I lick at her clit and bite it a handful of times before poking my tongue deep inside her.

Her cries grow more desperate when I spread her wide with my shoulders until her glistening pussy is displayed directly in front of me. Then I suck at her clit and lick it.

Her body tenses up with every timed flick. Then, just as the tingles reach a level of hysteria, I say the words I’ve spoken a minimum of four times a day for the past two weeks.

“Come for me like a good, obedient wife. Mark me with your scent. Make me yours.”

Emerson climaxes with a breathless sigh, her entire body shaking.

I poke my tongue inside her, giving her pussy something to cling to as she rides the wild ride.

My cock aches to sink back into her, but this is more intimate, more us.

It is a man kneeling at the feet of his woman, and him worshipping her how she deserves to be adored.

Once the shivers racking through Emerson’s tight, fit body subside, I lower her back down the shelves before nestling the crest of my cock at the opening of her pussy.

I watch her while slowly entering her, absorbing every spark, glint, and glimmer darting through her impressive eyes.

I’m under her spell in less than a second and unashamed to admit it.

“I love you, Ember. I always have, and I always will.”

When tears well in her eyes, I thrust hard, putting the weight of my body behind my pumps. Emerson’s eyes roll backward, and my name leaves her mouth as her pussy convulses around me.

I grit my teeth, fighting to stave off my release, but lose the fight when the faintest whisper has me coming with a roar.

“I love you too, Coal. Always.”

Sometime later, I enter my office with a warm washcloth and a satisfied smile. We moved to the office so the staff of Ember’s could close without interference, and we’ve been going nonstop since. Emerson is exhausted, but that isn’t the sole emotion she’s displaying.

Something is bothering my wife.

I’ve noticed this expression a handful of times in the past week, but anytime I try to question her about it, she assures me she is fine.

I wonder if it has something to do with the name displayed on my phone screen when it rings. The groove between her brows deepens—as it does anytime I’ve brought up Andrik since the gala.

“You should answer it,” Emerson says when I continue for her instead of my phone, aftercare a priority of mine. “It could be important.”

“More important than you? Never.”

She tsks me, but I see the flare darting through her eyes. She loves when I put her first, and it has me doing it more regularly.

“Mikhail…” Her laugh makes me hard, like I didn’t just achieve release. “It is five a.m. Not even the sparrows are up yet.” She snatches the washcloth out of my hand and barges me toward my phone. “Answer your brother’s call.”

I pout while snatching up my phone and dragging my thumb across the screen. “This better be important?—”

I’m cut off by a man desperate to kill. “Zoya’s water just broke.”

“What?” I stare at Emerson as if she has supersonic hearing. “She’s not due for another six weeks.”

“I know, but Nikita said she’d most likely go early since her uterus will struggle to reach full term,” answers a man pacing in frustration. “I don’t know what to do.”

That’s a first. Andrik is the mastermind of our family. He’s the brain— and the brawn . I’d just rather you keep that last part between us. I’ve been feeling like the king of my realm since the gala, and I’m not ready to return to reality just yet.

“Take her to the hospital.” When my suggestion lands on deaf ears, I shout, “Now, Andrik!”

He’s not accustomed to being snapped at, but he takes it in stride. “We’re not home. We’re at an onsite cabin at Zelenolsk.” When I gasp, annoyed, he pushes out, “Zoya wouldn’t leave until she was confident I didn’t fuck this up for you.”

“This?”

I’m interrupted by a woman in pain. Zoya’s groan sounds terrifying, and it has my stomach churning like I vomit in sympathy.

“Breathe, милая .” Andrik’s voice is more controlled now, more in charge. He knows how to take care of his woman. He’s just shit fucking scared about not being able to accept her pain on her behalf. I know this because I face the same issues with Emerson.

I sigh in gratitude when Emerson proves she has supersonic hearing. “Take her to this hospital.” She twists a tablet around to face me. “It has one of the best obstetrics units in the country. They will be able to help her.”

I recite the information on the screen of the tablet we use to order stock to Andrik before telling him we will meet him at Vlotz Private. He grunts his approval of my suggestion half a second before the line goes dead.