Page 72 of The Bratva's Sextuplets
He enters me slowly, wrapping his arm around my expanded middle while he cups my breast with his other hand. The angle is perfect, letting him reach deeply while keeping pressure off my belly.
“Your pussy feels so good around my cock.” His voice is rough against my ear as he begins to move with gentle thrusts. “So warm, wet, and perfect.”
“Harder.” I push back against him, needing more. “I can take it.”
He increases his rhythm, still careful but with more force behind each thrust. He moves from teasing my breast to my nipple while his cock fills me again and again.
“I love you like this.” He speaks in English first, then switches to Russian, his voice soft and intimate. “Moya zhena, carrying my children.”
The endearment in his native language makes my pussy clench around him, and he responds with a thrust that hits exactly the right spot.
“What are you saying?” As pleasure builds, I gasp.
“That you’re mine, these babies are ours, and I’ll protect all of you with my life.” He continues in Russian, speaking words I don’t always understand but feel in my bones. “Moi deti, you will know only love.”
“Are you talking to them?” The realization that he’s speaking to our children while making love to me sends emotion crashing through me.
“I want them to know my voice.” He slows his thrusts to something deeper and more deliberate. “I want them to know they’re wanted, loved, and safe.”
He slides his free hand down to where we’re joined, stroking my clit while his cock continues its careful rhythm. The dual stimulation combined with his words in Russian makes my entire body tighten with approaching release.
“Moi synov’ya, moi docheri,” he continues in Russian, his voice tender despite the desire roughening it. “Your papa will never let harm come to you. Your mama is the strongest woman in the world.”
“Tigran.” His name comes out in a sob as pleasure and emotion tangle together. “I’m going to come.”
“Yes, you are.” He increases the pressure on my clit while maintaining his steady rhythm. “Let me feel how much you love this and love me.”
When my orgasm hits, it’s with the force of months of fear and uncertainty finally transformed into something beautiful. I cry out his name as I clench around him, my entire body shaking with the intensity as my inner walls cling to his spasming cock.
He follows seconds later, tightening his arm around me as he buries himself deeper and empties inside me with a groan. His cock pulses inside me, marking me in the most fundamental way.
“Moya sem’ya,” he whispers against my neck as we both catch our breath.
“What does that mean?”
“It means my family. You and these babies are everything that matters to me.” He presses a gentle kiss to my shoulder. “It means I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you know how loved you are.”
Tears slip down my cheeks, but they’re not from sadness. I’m so filled with love for him, and feeling loved by him, that I can’t manage to speak. Instead, I just turn in his arms, with his help, so we can lie facing each other.
He faces me with his hand resting protectively over our children. Some of my fears seem silly suddenly as I understand I haven’t become weak by depending on him. I’ve become part of something bigger than my individual strength that will protectand nurture six new lives in ways that neither of us could accomplish separately.
“What are you thinking about?” Tigran’s voice is drowsy with satisfaction.
“I’m thinking about how different this is from what I expected when we got married.” I trace the tattoos on his chest. “How much better it is than what I thought we’d have.”
“Better how?”
“I thought being married to you would mean losing myself in your world.” I press a kiss to his throat. “Instead, I’ve found parts of myself I never knew existed.”
“Like what?”
“Like the part that can love six children before they’re even born and can find strength in accepting help instead of always trying to be independent.” I look up at him. “I can trust someone completely with my heart and my future.”
“I’m honored to be trusted with those things.” His tone is serious. “I don’t take the responsibility lightly.”
“I know you don’t.” I rest my arm across his side, cupping his back with my palm. “That’s why I can trust you with them.”
As I drift off to sleep in his arms, with our children moving gently in my belly and the sound of his heartbeat steady beneath my ear, I realize that this is what love looks like when it’s real instead of just romantic. It’s choosing to be vulnerable with someone who’ll protect that vulnerability. It’s finding beauty in sacrifice and strength in dependence and hope in the unknown future you’re building together.
