Chapter Text
Chapter 6
The next few weeks pass in a comfortable blur, and things are…nice, as ridiculous as it is to admit.
After the day at the park there was a shift between us, a type of understanding. As much as I felt like a prisoner, how backwards this country’s culture has been, now that I’m stuck in it, I understand. I’m not caged in this household for the entertainment of Nikto. I’m kept inside for the sake of my safety being here just like his. People have different agendas here than what I’m used to back in America. The reality of going back is all but vanished, a fact that I have slowly come to terms with and allowed myself to shed private tears over before pulling myself back together.
Nikto has changed as well. He’s more delicate in a way. More at ease. We actually talk about things. He doesn’t really ask details about my life before being here, which I appreciate, but he asks about me, seems to want to learn about me. He bought me some Russian translation textbooks and lessons so I can actually read the newspaper and watch tv with him. In our morning rituals after cooking breakfast, which he offers to help at times in my amazement, as I sit on his lap and sip my coffee, he will quiz me and practice different food items in Russian as well as simple conversations. It’s tough but I’m picking it up. Every time I respond correctly with a well-enough accent for the verbiage, his smile and praise lights me up.
I’m thankful to see he has loosened the reins on what he believed to be a healthy marriage dynamic for this day and age. His beliefs were outdated from the current first-world views of equal partners. It’s not perfect, but we are getting there. He still doesn’t address me by name, but being called his ‘little wife’ has grown on me as a pet name. HE has grown on me. I must be insane.
I’m reading a novel he found for me in English waiting for Nikto to get home from work on base when the lock turns and he slams the door open following with slamming it shut, cursing under his breath with Russian words I’m acquainted with now. He’s never this angry after work; tired, annoyed, at times, yes. Not this.
He walks to the kitchen and sits in his chair, raking his hands through his hair and resting against his arms on the table with eyes closed. I close my book and slowly walk over to him. My hand comes up and wraps around his tense shoulder.
“Nikto?” I ask softly. He doesn’t respond or move. I take a brave inhale before getting on my knees on the floor beside where he’s sat and gently grabbing his hands from his head. I pull them to wrap around mine, pressing my mount against his fingers. This gets his attention, slowly turning his face down towards me. He looks worn and stressed.
“What is it?” I ask calmly, staring up at him.
He takes a deep breath and exhales through his nose, his thumbs rubbing against my cheeks.
“I’m being sent on a mission, despite it breaking my right of non-deployable status for the quarter-year of applying for a wife. But they don’t give a fuck.” I can see the frustration evident on his face.
I clench my jaw nervously. He’s leaving me alone here?
“How long?” I ask.
“Cannot be certain. A month, maybe more or less.”
I let out a sigh. “Oh,” I let out, “That’s not too terrible.”
He shakes his head. “It is.”
I tilt my head slightly in confusion.
“I can’t bear to be away even a day. I lose my mind not being near you, my eyes on you.” His hand gently pulls out of my grasp and tucks stray hairs behind my ear before his hand lowers and caresses over the scar that came from his bite mark all those weeks ago. “It rips me apart not being by your side protecting you, watching over you. The one good thing in this god-forsaken country.”
His words make my heart flutter. I turn my face and press my cheek back into his hand, closing my eyes. His hands have become tender towards me and I can’t get enough.
“When do you leave?” I ask.
“Tomorrow.”
I feel him pull away as he stands, his hands grabbing under my arms to pull me off the floor like I’m weightless.
“I have something for you. I was not sure when to give it to you. Stay here,” he says softly before walking to his office. I hear a drawer open and close before he walks back to me, a small black box in hand. He grabs my hand and places it in my palm. “For you.”
I look up at him before looking back down at the box. I open it. I inhale sharply at the ring that’s tucked inside it. It’s a delicate vintage style ring with ornate decorations along with an oval black Diamond front and center. It is aesthetically gothic and gorgeous.
“I tried to research marriages from American culture. Unfortunately, white diamonds aren’t a large commodity here. Neither is purchasing expensive wedding rings, but you deserve as much. I saw your beauty in this ring. I hope the size is correct, if I may-“
He pulls the ring out of the box and slides it on my left ring finger, it fitting perfectly.
“I know we don’t speak much of how this came to be, I don’t see a need to. I won’t excuse how my government goes about their laws. I can’t express the anger I feel of how you came to be here, but I am a selfish man. If I could go back, I wouldn’t change a thing. You are the best thing that could have happened to me.”
His hands cup my face and tilt my face up to his, my eyes pricking tears at his words.
“I would die a warrior’s death every day than to go a lifetime without knowing you, little angel. You have given my life purpose, and I thank you for your sacrifice of becoming mine.” His voice trembles slightly, something I’ve never heard before. I move to my tip toes to press a kiss to his lips, the first one I’ve ever initiated between us. His grip tightens around my face like I’ll slip away from him. He kisses me with such a fierce and possessive passion it takes my breath away. He pulls away and presses his forehead to mine, wiping the tears away I have not realized are falling down my face.
“I cannot put into words the love I have found and grown for you, my little wife. You have become my everything,” he whispers.
He pulls the ring box back out and underneath the small padding is a house key.
“With this I give you your freedom to come and go from the house. I trust you know how to be safe while I’m gone. I just…” He swallows and takes a steadying breath, “I just hope you will still be here as my wife when I return.” He looks at me with such innocence and sincerity I don’t know what to do.
Here it is. The chance I was looking for. The ability to run away from it all tomorrow after he leaves. The possibility of figuring out how to get back to America, back to my lonely apartment, a handful of friends that have all been nice acquaintances at best, working my dead-end job and dreaming of finding somebody one day to spend my pathetic life with.
No.
I don’t think I want that anymore.
This time, my hands come up and wrap around his face, my thumbs tracing the couple scars that line his jaw. He’s as surprised as I am at my touch, but after a moment I feel him lean into my touch as he stares at me. This huge terrifying killer of a man I now have wrapped around my finger. This man who told me he loves me.
“I’ll be here when you return,” I whisper. I hope my eyes show there’s not a hint of a lie in them.
“I promise.”
After dinner long after the sun sets, I let him take me with willing and open arms. I’m on my knees with my hands wrapped around my pillow in a death hold with my face pressed against it, my mouth slightly open and panting with Nikto’s face buried in the crook of my neck. One arm is wrapped around my body with his hand holding my throat and the other is slowly torturing my clit, his body bowed over my back while he fucks deep into me from behind. He’s holding onto me so tightly like I might disappear so I can’t squirm away, just have to take every thrust and inch he gives me.
“You feel so fucking good, angel, you can give me another, come on,” he praises. My body trembles under him with my legs wanting to give out, overstimulated and about knocked out from my first orgasm, but he doesn’t slow his fingers down. He licks a slow path from my neck up to my ear, biting my traps and kissing the side of my face not pressed into the pillow. His pace slows down but he keeps fucking into me as deep as he possibly can.
“I can feel how full I stuff you, you’re so fucking perfect. You take everything I give you and more, don’t you?”
His hand squeezes slightly to constrict my breathing which makes my head spin and my body tighten under him.
“You want me to cum for you like you cum for me? Want me to fill your perfect cunt up until you’re dripping? Right where my cum belongs.”
His voice turns into a growl and he picks his pace back up, his hips slapping against my ass fast now. I can’t help but let out whines and whimpers.
“Nikto, please…” I whine out through panting.
“Fucking hell, you beg so pretty for me. Don’t worry, you’ll get every single drop I have to give you. I’ll fuck you so full it’ll take, my perfect pregnant wife.”
His hips start to stutter so he slows again, slowly pulling all the way out and back in and with his rubbing on my clit sends me over the edge, my pussy clamping down on his throbbing cock.
“Fuck, that’s it, tighten around me. Don’t let anything I give you spill out. I feel how tight you’re sucking me in,” he groans through clenched teeth right in my ear.
After a couple final thrusts, my legs give out and we both fall on the bed, me laying completely flat under him and him caging my body in underneath his as he fucks his cum as deep in me as he can.
“Good fucking girl, fuck…take it all, let me breed you. My sweet little angel…”
He pants into my ear, giving shallow thrusts in my shaking body as we both come down from our high. After a minute of calming down, he slowly pulls out and flips me over, lacing his fingers in my hair on my scalp and kissing me deep and passionately. Our kiss breaks as we just look at each other. My fingers delicately trace the details of his face and he turns his head and kisses my palm.
“I love you.” I whisper to him. His eyes lock on mine and we just stare at each other for a few moments. He kisses me gently, kisses down my neck and shoulder and holds me close, peppering my sweaty skin anywhere he can reach with his lips. I feel his hand come up and graze his fingertips over my lower stomach, making me blush.
“And I love you, my perfect little wife,” he whispers back against my skin.
After two long months, a longer time frame than what he gave me, I stand nervously in the living room staring at the door. My heart skips as I hear his key slide in the door knob and turn it. My hands are clasped behind my back, my left hand excitedly fidgeting with my ring while my right hand gently holds onto an ultrasound photo.