The Bride Who Wouldn't (10 page)

There was more in there, Isaak knew it, but he could hear her shocked breathing, feel her thighs relaxing as her orgasm started to abate, and his mouth lifted, his palm holding her swollen sex.

Kate lay, her eyes closed, trying to catch her breath, her stomach soft, her limbs back to liquid but her sex hot and swollen in his hand.

“Where is the shame in that?” he whispered.

There was none. She wanted to curl up, she wanted to breathe deeply, but Isaak had not quite finished yet.

“What are you?” It was then she felt him move inside her. “Isaak…” She looked down, waiting for the clench of spasm, but it never came, and he was completely matter-of-fact in his response.

“Feeling you,” Isaak said, for just as she had finished coming, he had slipped two fingers in and now he slid them deeper. “Stretching you.”

She gritted her teeth as she felt a tug and then just watched, somewhat fascinated as he slipped two bloodied fingers out. She could see his erection straining against his jeans and there was an ache to feel it, but instead he came up the bed and kissed her back to earth.

“You don’t know what you just did,” Kate said.

“Of course I do.”

“No…” She thought of the tiny dilators that had proved impossible, even a finger or tampon were way too much for her. “I’ve never been able to get anything in…”

“One good-looking Russian, and you part your legs,” Isaak teased. “Tut tut.” Then he smiled. “Have you had a nice day?

“The best day,” Kate said. “But you didn’t…”

“Oh, I shall,” Isaak smiled, and he did the wrist action thing again, but this time it just made her laugh, and he took her hand and placed it there for a moment, just letting her feel the size of it and explore it a little from the confines of his jeans. “And when I do I will be thinking of you.”

“Does nothing embarrass you?” Kate asked, liking the feel of him beneath her hand, nervous as to the size, her finger tracing the head.

“About sex?” Isaak checked. “No.”

“About anything?”

“We are all ashamed of some things,” he said, and he took her hand from his crotch and then kissed her palm till her toes were curling. “But for me, it’s not that. Come on, get dressed, I want to take those earrings out for dinner.”

He spoke as if it was perfectly normal to get up and go out after that.

In fact, he resumed normal conversation as Kate lay there realising that possibly it was.

“W
ill you tell
your brother about your grandmother?” Kate asked as they walked up the dark cobbled Montmartre streets towards the basilica.

“Yes, but I don’t know when,” Isaak said. “I don’t think the news would be welcome now.”

The streets were crowded and noisy, and his arm around her felt natural. They stopped and watched a family getting their portrait done.

“No way,” Isaak said as Kate opened her mouth, then he relented. “We’ll get one of you.”

It was a chance to shamelessly examine her face, and Isaak stood there, watching her smile, so much more relaxed now. He turned to a noise and watched a small bus that was often used by disabled folks and children to get to the top of the hill, and Isaak frowned as a child pressed his hands to the window and caught his eye.

He
remembered
this place.

“Isaak…” She had her portrait in her hand, and Isaak realised he had lost a few moments simply staring around. “Are you okay?”

“Of course.” He looked at the portrait, and the artist had done an amazing job. There were her freckles, the slight upturn of her nose and this was no Mona Lisa, for she was smiling widely, her lips parted, and when he moved his gaze from the image to the real one, and he felt a stirring. His cock had been rearing for most of the night, reminding its owner it had been neglected of late. God, his mind was in a thousand places, and yet it kept returning to one.

They walked a little further, and as Kate stopped to look at an old faded theatre, he wanted to go back to the hotel, wanted her in a way he never had any other woman, but instead, they did all the touristy things and sat on the steps of the basilica eating a chocolate crepe. Kate turned and saw a slight look of bemusement on his features as he gazed at the magnificent view of Paris spread out beneath them.

“Gorgeous, isn’t it,” she said.

“It is, except…” He looked over at her. “I feel like I’ve seen this before.”

“You could never get tired of it.” Kate misinterpreted his words.

“I mean…” Isaak tried to better explain what he did not really understand himself. “I’ve never been here. I’ve been to Paris many times for business, but I don’t usually do the touristy things. I just fly in and out…” He stopped then, could not really explain the deja vu feeling he had had when he had seen the little child on the bus while Kate was getting her portrait done, nor the feeling that had hit him when he had first stepped into their suite.

It made no sense, Isaak thought as he sat there.

Even the antique silver crib he had seen in the elevator had unsettled him.

“Ready to go back?” Kate’s voice broke into his thoughts, and Isaak nodded.

It really had been the best day and back at the hotel, he poured them two large cognacs and heated them with his palm before handing her one.

“Tired?” Isaak said as Kate yawned.

“So tired,” she admitted.

“You can stretch out on the sofa soon,” Isaak said pulling her in and tasting the cognac on her lips as her mouth moved into a smile.

“I think…” She hesitated, not sure that if she said she wanted to sleep in the bed, he might take it to mean that sex was okay, because Kate truly didn’t know if she’d be able and was terrified of it all going wrong. “I think that I’m tired of sleeping on the sofa.”

“Then join me in the bed, not for anything,” Isaak added as his cock almost wept in frustration at his choice of words. “I’m not going to be chasing you around the bed, I just want you to sleep in my arms.” The nod of her head against his chest had his teeth grit at the prospect of a very long night, but there were so many rewards for his patience, for instead of darting to the bathroom to get changed, Kate put her glass by the bed and started to undress.

Isaak took himself to the bathroom and considered the shower option but decided against it and took ages trying to piss and will down his erection.

The ringing of his phone was actually a relief.

“What are you doing?” Roman asked, and they spoke in Russian.

“You don’t want to know,” Isaak said.

“Sorry to disturb you on your honeymoon.”

“You were not disturbing anything.” Isaak’s smile was wry as he pulled on hipsters, headed out, and carried on chatting as he climbed into bed. “How are you doing?”

“The nursing home called this evening,” Roman said.

Isaak’s jaw gritted. He did not want blow-by-blow updates on his father’s health, but Roman continued. “His condition is worse and so I am flying there tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Is there anything you want me to say to him for you?”

Isaak thought for a long moment. “No.”

They chatted for a few more minutes and then Isaak turned off the phone, took a long sip of his drink, and then put his arm around Kate so that she lay on his chest.

“My brother is flying to Russia to visit our father. He is not very well.”

“Should you go?” Kate went to sit up but he held her down.

“No,” Isaak said. “There is nothing I wish to say to him.”

“You’re sure?” Kate asked him the same question he had asked Roman about leaving his house, and his answer to Kate was pretty much the same, too.

“Very sure, there are no good memories.”

Kate lay quiet as Isaak continued.

“He was a violent brute who has turned into a sweet old man, who now sits crying because he knows he’s going to hell. I don’t want to see that.” He took another belt of his drink. “It is far too late for forgiveness.”

Kate lay thinking for a moment. She could feel his tension and guessed it wasn’t her place to say anything, but then Isaak spoke freely about her issues, and so she took a deep breath.

“It’s never too late for forgiveness.”

“Ah, but you’re a much sweeter person than me,” Isaak said and then changed the subject. “Roman sends his regards.”

“No he doesn’t,” she said. “What did he really say in the church when you introduced me?”

Isaak smiled at her perception. “He asked if I had completely lost my mind, though not quite so politely.”

“Are you two close?”

“We’re brothers,” Isaak said by way of answer, and so she took it as a yes.

“Can I ask what happened with Roman and Ava?” she asked. “All I know is that, despite what the papers said, there was no baby. Ivor was too upset to elaborate, and I didn’t want to push.”

Isaak thought for a moment. It was rare that he shared family confidences, but he was glad that his uncle had been able to speak with Kate and so he explained things. “Roman is the same as me in that neither of us have any interest in ever settling down,” Isaak started, and Kate had to consciously not respond to the definiteness of his words though they actually hurt her, and she lay there silently as Isaak continued. “He and Ava had only been going out for a few weeks when he broke up with her. After he ended it, Ava came back and said she was pregnant. Roman married her and while he was away on business, she called and said she had lost the baby. He came straight back…” Isaak sighed at the painful memory. “Roman was devastated. He asked to see the ultrasound, not to check on her at that point, he just wanted to see something of the baby. She couldn’t find it apparently, and one question led to another. There never had been a baby. They had a terrible row, and Ava drove off in temper and was killed in a head-on…”

“Oh no.”

“Roman doesn’t want her parents to find out how badly she lied, and that there was a row just before she died. He blames himself for her death, and he is angry at her too.”

They lay there in silence, Isaak half asleep when he spoke next. “I told him at the time he was mad to marry her. I wish he had listened to me.”

Kate closed her eyes, not in sleep but at the sudden tears there.

Roman had said the very same thing to Isaak.

More and more she had to remind herself that the blissful haven of his arms was only hers for a year.

I
saak stared out
of the bus window as they were driven up the hill, and then his eyes fixed on a woman having her portrait done. People spoke words that he didn’t understand, but it was exciting. His legs ached, and he was hot and hungry, but he was hoisted onto male shoulders as they climbed steps, and he had never felt more happy or safe than he did now.

“
What do you see, Isaak
?” a male voice asked and he looked out at the lights of a strange city yet he felt at home.

The taste of sweet crepe was a rare treat, and he held it on his tongue and tried to resist the urge to just swallow the whole thing down.

He could hear his mother laughing and happy, but in a moment, it all changed to tears. Sobbing, terrified tears that were starting to wake Roman. He wanted to get to his mother, to beg the bastard to stop, but he knew that would only enrage him further. The best he could do was to stop him coming in here for Roman’s tears angered him so. Isaak lifted his whimpering brother from the shallow wooden crib and held him, trying to quell his own panic and not scare his brother, telling him to hush that it would all be okay while not believing his own words.

Kate opened her eyes as Isaak jolted and then lay there quietly as his galloping heart slowed down. She guessed he would not appreciate her knowing he was coming out of a nightmare.

It did not surprise her—often in her work, people told her they had very vivid dreams as they started to unearth their past.

It had been vivid. Isaak had actually felt as if he were back there for a moment.

The feel of Kate in his arms brought comfort, and he buried his face in her hair as the vague scent of neroli chased away the stale alcohol smell of the family home, and Isaak slipped back into sleep as his body awoke to her.

Kate watched. One hand was on her arm but the other moved down his stomach. Her throat was tight as he slid it into his hipsters and rearranged his cock.

She lay there staring at the outline as Isaak stirred to get comfortable, his hand came to rest on her breast that had again slipped out of its lacy confines.

Even asleep he seduced—his hands idly stroked her soft flesh. Soft flesh that now felt heavy to Kate and she watched as the head of his cock nudged its way out of the hipsters, inching its way up Isaak’s flat stomach.

She lay watching, fascinated. Warmth spread in her sex as Isaak’s hand left her breast and his palm circled the head for a moment before giving his cock two long slow strokes through the fabric, then his hands slipped in.

She heard him swear softly in Russian as he started to properly wake and his hand moved out and came to rest on his stomach.

Kate wanted it to return.

She could hear his tense breathing, and his hand on her hip pressed in a little as his mouth moved across her curls, and he inhaled them again and then with a soft sigh indulgence won and the hand on his stomach answered his body’s call.

She was unbelievably turned on, almost as turned on as she had been when his mouth had been exploring her.

He slid down his hipsters enough that it sprung up and Kate fought from licking her lips, and she fought, too, the urge to touch it, instead just watching the erotic beauty of Isaak caressing himself and she lay there silently gazing as he gave it two long slow pulls and then again ran his palm over the head, and still it grew. But then he halted, pulling his hipsters ups, but that could not cover it. She felt him try to untangle from her but Kate did not simply roll away.

“I’ll be back,” Isaak said.

“Stay.”

“Kate…” He didn’t even try to explain where he had been heading off to, instead Isaak lay in a rather uncomfortable situation, hoping she wouldn’t notice, or just that it would go down. Yet he could feel her eyelashes on his chest and the trip of her breathing, and he realised that she, too, was turned on, and then she pulled her head back and he saw the glitter of her eyes.