AUTHOR'S NOTES: Alright... Let's try this again.

If you, the reader, have come across this page and this story within the last 24 hours, then you would've saw a blank space and a brief note (from me) stating that I've deleted the story due to a violation.

The "violation" being that 'Round After Round' is a traditional, 'Character x Reader' story. Apparently, stories from that genre of fiction is prohibited on .

In order for me to keep "Round After Round" posted on here, then I have to revise and change the point of view. So, basically, make it either 'first' or 'third' person and take out the 'Y/N" and any references to you, the reader... which can be time-consuming. At the time of when I received the notice of violation, I was too pissed off to do anything. I don't like to operate and make long-term choices, when I am feeling this way, so I've waited until I calmed down.

Now that I am feeling better and not in a dark place, I am ready to tackle this damn thing... Yet, again.

In this 'updated and renovated' version of "Round After Round," I've changed the story's point of view into 'first-person' point of view. I want the readers to still be able to connect with the main, female protagonist, so 'first-person' it is. I also decided to be a petty, dickhead, by naming the main female protagonist as "O," which is short for "Original Character".

With that out of the way, let the show begin...

In this short work of fiction, there will be statements in Russian. I don't speak Russian, so I had to rely on Google and it's translation system. So, for all of those Russian speakers, don't look at me like I am a huge dumb asshole. Blame Google.

In regards to this story, I did write some flashbacks scenes. They will be italicized in this story. Being that they are memories from the protagonist, there aren't any clear signs of transition.

RATED: 'M' FOR 'MATURE. THIS STORY CONTAINS PROFANITY AND GRAPHIC SEX, AS WELL AS, SEXUAL LANGUAGE. NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS UNDER THE AGE OF SEVENTEEN. LIKE IT WILL STOP YOU NOSY KIDS FROM READING ANYWAY.

WARNING: Non-Canon. A/U.

DISCLAIMER: CHARACTERS FROM "CREED 2" DON'T BELONG TO ME. I ONLY OWN THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS. LYRICS FOR "SO BEAUTIFUL" DO NOT BELONG TO ME. THE MGM GRAND HOTEL & CASINO DON'T BELONG TO ME, AS WELL.

Enjoy, my dear!

Thank you, for reading.

Please leave a review, if you feel compelled.

~oMLo~

With most of the spectators still loitering in the Garden Arena, I had taken the opportunity to make my departure. As I politely passed and excused myself to make an exit, my eyes would intermittently make glimpses in the ring's direction. At first glance, I was able to point out the standing parties that flooded the ring. If I had to guess, then there had to be more than thirty…thirty-five occupants. But I was only looking out for one specific person.

Viktor Drago.

With each and every one of my glances, I was able to spot him. Every time. It was like my eyes were a magnet and he was the steel. With every glimpse, I saw that the prized fighter, and the victor for tonight's battle, was surrounded by his people as he was being interviewed by a sportscaster, for a televised segment. He stood there, in a casual stance, looking barely recognizable. His face was smeared with blood. Pockets of bruised flesh were already showing signs of intense swelling. Freddy Hancock had definitely did a number to his face tonight. The boxing match managed to make it to the ninth round before it was called off, but Viktor looked as if he had gone through all twelve rounds. Despite his facial injuries, he still stood there, in a casual stance, as if he wasn't feeling the pain in his muscles, joints and tendons.

It wasn't in Viktor's nature to expose his pain, even when he had the right to do so. It was one of his character traits that drove me up the wall, figuratively. But, it was a trait that I was so grateful for and one that I loved about him.

My trek back to the hotel suite, here in the MGM Grand Hotel & Casino, took a solid half-an-hour. The people, the fight's spectators, also managed to spill out of the arena and make their way to various points of the hotel. I had to slough through the thick waves of folks and small gatherings of people, who were enjoying their late Saturday nights-early Sunday mornings. By the time I've reached the elevator bay that led to the hotel's rooms and suites, I felt as if I've just spent an afternoon with Viktor as he shopped for groceries for the house, which was a task that was more arduous than a Cross-Fit session.

It wasn't until I had entered an unoccupied elevator, when I realized that I left the arena with a parting gift, in the form of ringing that was buried in my ears. As I tried to shake it out, I recalled the moments in which the volume of the spectators' cheers and jeers became so loud that I couldn't concentrate on the match. At one point in time, I've took note that the most obnoxious taunts and heckles were aimed at Viktor. Freddy "The Nightmare" Hancock was a loudmouth, ignorant and xenophobic jackass, so I wasn't surprised that his fans were the same way.

" –my baby… My lover, my lady…"

Despite having clogged ears, I could hear the lyrics and the music that belonged to my current favorite song, as I stood in the corridor.

"… All night, you make me… Want you. It drives me crazy…"

Since I've caught wind of this song, a few weeks ago, via Spotify, I loved it. On that very first listen, before I could even make it to the song's bridge, I immediately thought of my relationship with Viktor, which was mildly ironic. A passionate and colorful song managed to remind me of my relationship with a man, who was usually described as 'monotone, bland and one-note'.

"… I feel like… You were made just for me, babe…"

I quickly fetched the hotel suite's key-card from my leather clutch purse and then I proceeded to enter my temporary dwelling.

Since his arrival to Las Vegas with his father and their training team, on the previous week, Viktor has been shacking up with his father. But he has promised me that after the fight, and for the post-fight press promotion, he was going to stay with me, much to his father's chagrin.

"… Cause it just feels so right. I don't wanna waste no time… If I had to choose I know…"

As I entered the stylized living room area, I managed to catch up to the lyrics and I broke out into the song' chorus.

"Girl, don't you know… You're so beautiful. I wanna give all my love to you, girl.

Not just for tonight, but the rest of your life. I wanna be always here by your side…"

I sang as I traveled further into the hotel suite, the 'Stay Well Marquee Suite,' which was a gift from my mom and my 'aunties,' women who were my mother's long-term best friends. "For some quality time alone," was my mom's inspiration behind the lofty purchase. The old lady was my most loyal and oldest confidante, so of course, she knew how it was like living in the Drago household, thanks to my... Colorful and emotional, accounts since I've moved into their house, six months ago. My mother also knew about the lack of intimacy that was currently going on, in my relationship, for the past couple of months.

I peeled off my heeled booties and unbuttoned the fastening to my black, skinny jeans as I had traveled to my bedroom. With the song still etched into my consciousness, I had mouthed the remaining lyrics as I slightly limped with my swollen feet. Once inside of the bedroom, I retrieved my loungewear from off of the bench that was at the foot of the king-sized bed. I knew that I looked beautiful and stylish tonight, but I couldn't wait to get out of those clothes. A few minutes and a quick dress change later, I was relaxed and comfy in my pair of baggy, flannel pajama-pants and an old Hanes undershirt that used to belong to Viktor. It wasn't the kind of look that conveyed 'sex' and 'sensuality,' but it was comfortable-as-hell. Besides, I really doubted Viktor would want to have sex tonight, anyway. In tonight's match, both he and Freddy reminded me of a pair of Rock'em, Sock'em Robots, with the way they fought. I was certain that he would most likely want a shower, a painkiller, and those five packs of Oreo cookies that were in the mini-bar, as well as, a solid seven-hours of sleep. I could wait until we were back in Buffalo before we could go back to being like a couple of horny rabbits.

Over the two years that we've been together, I've been a witness to other boxing matches and the whirlwind that preceded the fights and the frenzy that followed. I've been through the song and dance with him, for some time , I was aware that it would be impossible for me to share some quiet and private moments with him. Especially, when it was a Buddy Marcelle-promoted fight. After every match ended, Viktor would be led away, so he could undergo his post-fight rituals. His rituals being scheduled tasks, such as, in-ring interviews, escorted to his dressing room, given a brief physical and then conducting more interviews while in his private quarters.

I knew all of this, despite being banned from entering the premises or being near the backstage areas. The restriction from Viktor's locker rooms was one of Ivan's ideas. He claimed that my presence would be 'a distraction'. Surprisingly, I agreed to Ivan's assessment. So, the banning didn't bother me. In fact, I've joked about it, in the past by referring to it as "The He-Man, Women-Haters Club".

However, Viktor being Viktor, always had gone out of his way to make sure I knew that I was on his mind and I was vital for his training, even though I really didn't have a hand in anything. During his "fight weekends," he would send me text messages. Messages that highlighted his thoughts, his feelings and his declarations about missing me. Occasionally, Viktor would reveal his humorous side and send me pics of himself goofing off, when his father wasn't looking.

The fact that he would always make sure he would provide a counter-act against his father's actions… It was another trait that made my love for him go deeper.

Hours managed to fly by.

It was close to two in the morning, but I was still revved up and energetic, which was a welcome change of pace for me. Now, I was waiting for Viktor's arrival to my rented suite. He sent me a text message about being there soon. After reading the message, I felt like I morphed into a little kid and it was the night of Christmas Eve. I ended up with a case of the jitters. Waves of coldness and heat drowned my skin, making me feel hot and then cold and vice-versa. My stomach rumbled and my heart was performing a funky, little dance in my chest. Lying in that king-sized, bed didn't help matters. So, I've decided to go to the hotel's windows and sight-see.

As I stood there, I recalled that it was close to midnight, when the fight had come to an abrupt end. With a combination of punches that included a vicious straight right hand and a left hook, Freddy Hancock had gone down, sometime in the ninth round. He made a feeble attempt of getting back to his feet, but when he made his third descent to the canvas, the referee called the match off. I remembered that I screamed so loudly and without caution, once I heard Viktor's name called as this bout's winner. I was happy, but mainly, I was ecstatic for Viktor. I jumped and clapped like I was a preteen, fan-girl at a concert performed by her favorite boy-band.

Going over my actions, a subtle cringe fill me up and a deep blush rise to my face. 'Oh God,' I quietly groaned. A light laugh, then, fell from me and it struck the window pane that was in front of me.

For the past three months, things have been emotionally-strained in the Drago household and for our relationship. The road bumps began when Viktor decided to accept Freddy "The Nightmare" Hancock's challenge for a second bout, five months ago. Since the news of Viktor's current, 'third-place' ranking for the WBC was made public, there has been challenges made. For most of these contests, he has declined them, after consulting with both his father and Buddy.

But with Freddy Hancock, this was a match that Viktor eagerly accepted… Without notifying Ivan about his intentions of taking the boxing match. He took it upon himself to talk with Buddy Marcelle and tell him about his desire for the rematch. I was surprised by his action. Viktor, under previous circumstances, wouldn't make bold moves like this one, unless Ivan concocted the plan.

Thus, the current wave of emotional tension that was going on in the Drago household. And the fact that Viktor told me about his decision, prior to his conversation with Buddy, didn't make me an ally for Ivan. I was already on Ivan's "Shit List," just by being Viktor's girlfriend-then-fiancée. Now, I've managed to find a permanent spot on that long list of people.

This was the first time that Viktor has ever outright disobeyed his father, as well as, not take his father's tutelage. According to Ivan, there was nothing to gain from having a fight with Freddy Hancock, a heavy-hitter that was ranked in the fifty-third spot, in the WBC rankings. I knew that if I was a fair-weather boxing fan, then I would've agreed with the elder Drago's point of view.

But I knew Viktor.

I knew that his motivation behind his choice was about revenge and obtaining bragging rights. Revenge against Freddy Hancock for his loss in their first bout, a few years ago. More importantly, this was also about bragging rights and the ability to prove to his critics that he was a boxer, through-and-through. Viktor wanted to prove that he wasn't WBC's equivalent to a 'one-hit wonder,' a marketing niche that was presented by Buddy Marcelle to the world of boxing. He wanted to prove that he wasn't the man-child of a disgraced, "stage dad," who wanted to vicariously live through his son. A muscle-bound, dunderhead that was better fitted lifting weights in some suburban gym instead of being in the world of professional boxing.

After his devastating loss to Adonis Creed, the son of the late champion Apollo Creed close to five-and-a-half years ago, Viktor and Ivan decided to lay low. Both father and son had left Russia and gone back to Kiev, Ukraine, where, as Viktor preferred to call it, "get right". I didn't press for any more details at the time, because he had already presented me with his vulnerability and it didn't feel right to dig deeper. But, I've figured that both father and son had spent that time going over their losses, both on physical and emotional levels. It was during this time frame, Viktor's ranking dropped, as well as, his reputation as a fighter. The talk had gone from Viktor being a fearsome fighter with powerful blows to Viktor being a 'flash-in-the-pan fighter' that couldn't handle the business. The latter assessment started to become the general consensus after Viktor lost his first WBC match, after returning to the federation from his seven-month hiatus.

His opponent from that match? Freddy "The Nightmare" Hancock. A 'good ole boy' from 'Small Town', Montana, who didn't let Viktor forget about his defeat, whenever "The Ruskie" was mentioned in various interviews, as well as, for the weigh-in and during their press conference that promoted tonight's fight.

Viktor hasn't verbally expressed himself in graphic detail, but he has opened up and told me in his best capabilities. Despite having a cold and emotionless, public persona, deep down, Viktor was like any other professional athlete, who knew that perceptions mattered, behind-the-scenes. Public perception, the validation from fans and the general public? Viktor didn't give a shit for it.

Then, as I viewed the lights and the glamorous signs of The Strip, my brain swayed its focus onto Ivan Drago, my soon-to-be father-in-law. An image of the older and weathered Drago entered my mind. I was more focus on his behavior towards me, ever since my arrival to MGM Grand Hotel & Casino, Thursday night. Before and once I arrived in Vegas, I was only able to speak to Viktor, via phone calls. Even then, Ivan managed to be an over-bearing, pain-in-the-ass, who micro-managed every one of Viktor's actions and responsibilities for his Vegas stay. According to Viktor, during our phone call from yesterday morning, his crotchety 'old man' believed that we were going to elope while in Las Vegas, when given the first opportunity. I found the notion to be absurd while Viktor found it to be funny. It was an outrageous accusation, but it did make sense. Ivan knew that we were engaged. Just by being in Las Vegas, home to the 24-hour wedding chapels, it was like temptation was calling.

The idea of going to a Las Vegas wedding chapel and easily getting hitched, strongly appealed to my senses. We've been engaged for almost nine months and I just started taking the initial steps in the planning for the ceremony. In my heart, just the mere thought of setting up seating arrangements, finding a venue for the reception, picking bridesmaids, looking for a caterer, going to cake taste-testing appointments, searching for a photographer and looking for a dress, would cause my stress level to spike up. The ability to just forgo everything and just pay for a marriage license was very appealing. But, I knew that if I would've done such a thing, I would've pissed several people off, including my mother, aunts and both sets of grandmothers. I was sure that they would've made attempts at tanning my hide, once they would've found out.

"But… It would've made things sooo easy," I said to myself, in jest.

Just then, my right hand reached towards the slight swelling that took up my midsection. My fingers cradled the 15-week 'baby bump' in affection. I looked away from the neon-light spectacles and made a glimpse at my stomach. I couldn't see my belly, thanks to the baggy shirt, but I could felt the difference. It wasn't like I was a gym-buff that sported a 'six-pack' or anything, but when I was naked, I would spot the current physical difference. There was a 'soft-hardness' to my stomach, a pudge. It reminded me of the 'post-dinner' bellies that I would receive after I would eat my mom's meals. Fortunately, I was still at the stage in which I could still wear my regular clothes and no one could tell, especially my parents and Ivan. Especially, with Ivan.

This unexpected pregnancy and impending parenthood were the two reasons as to why I was now starting up the wedding planning process. I didn't want this kid to be born out-of-wedlock. Yeah… It was an outdated and chauvinistic belief. In fact, I've blamed the 'Baptist-raisin' in me,' for this need to be married. There was also my vanity: I didn't want to be heavily-pregnant by the time of the wedding, either. I wanted to utilize that time preparing for the birth rather than worrying about the daggone wedding.

"Do you…?" His voice trailed off.

"Do I 'what'?" I asked him as I sorted through the contents in my suitcase as I unpacked. I was a bit absent-minded for the phone conversation. "What are you talking about, baby?"

There was a slow inhale and exhale before he answered. "Get… Married."

Now, he had my full and undivided attention. 'Oh my God,' I secretly spoke in my mind. My hands paused in their actions while my body was submersed in coldness and numbness. Heart began to race while my lungs began to feel as if they were filling up with lead.

"O?" I heard Viktor say in my ear.

'Oh, my God…'

"O?"

'Oh—He wants to marry—

"O?"

"Yeah?" I finally spoke into my cell phone. "Yeah, I'm here!" My voice was shaky, a sign of your surprise. "I'm here, Vic." I found yourself sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed and staring at the bathroom's entryway that was across from me. "Yeah… I'm here." I had taken a swallow at the hard lump that formed in my throat. "Viktor… Are you sure? About getting married while we're here?"

"Yes," he said with a finality to his tone. I imagined my hubby-to-be giving a simple shrug of his shoulders as he spoke. "I want to do whatever makes you happy…"

If only it was so simple. I knew that it could've been so simple, but I was making it complicated. Yes, this pregnancy was unplanned and unexpected for us both. Once the shock had worn off, I became excited about this pregnancy and I've grown to love this unborn child, the moment I saw my first sonogram. Yet, I did feel… Disappointment. In myself. Based off of the standards that I've set for myself, I managed to make actions that didn't go according to my plans.

Like with most little girls, I've fantasized of having a fancy wedding, in which I was dressed in a gown that made me feel like a queen. In my fantasies, I would have a long and poignant ceremony in a church. My friends and my family would be there, to witness my matrimonial union. And like most teenage girls, I've dreamed of meeting my soul mate and being in a blissful union, in which one couldn't go a day without seeing each other. Then, like with most career-driven women, I've wanted to get through my life without falling into that 'statistic': having children before getting married. Becoming a mother before I was established in your career and in life.

Yet, currently, here I was: an expectant mother, who was engaged to a man whose own career makes him go M.I.A. at times. I was a former college drop-out and now a full-time student at Erie Community College. No career, but I worked as a part-time bus matron for the Marigold School Bus Company, which coincidentally, allowed for me to meet Viktor.

Yeah, my life didn't go according to the plans that I originally set for myself.

In regards to my loved ones' awareness about my pregnancy, no one knew, except Viktor. But, I did have a suspicion that Ivan knew about it. I've imagined that Viktor wouldn't keep this important news from his father despite their current disagreement. When it came to my family, I wanted to wait until my father's impending birthday party, which was in a few weeks. I figured that it would be a nice present.

"—Talk about clash of the titans!" was enthusiastically shouted from the bedroom's 42-inched plasma TV.

I turned to the TV screen and was greeted by the sight of a pink-faced newscaster. He held his arms out to their sides and he kept his widened eyes to the camera.

"Tonight, at the MGM Grand's Garden Arena, there was the 'Drago versus Hancock' battle! You have in one corner: Viktor Drago…" The television screen was now showcasing video highlights from Viktor's and Freddy's fight, with the sportscaster's narration overlapping. With every recap, I remembered my very own visual perspective. For tonight's fight, I sat in the first row and directly behind Viktor's corner. I was directly behind the small row of seats that were designated for Ivan and the rest of the ringside crew. But I was closed enough to see my fiancé, to smell the menthol from the rubbing alcohol pads that were in his First Aid kit and close enough to hear Ivan's Russian orders shout down at Viktor, in between rounds.

The bout between Viktor and Freddy… This time around, it wasn't pretty.

I recalled snippets from their last bout, from what you could see from Viktor's laptop during his film studies. Based off of my amateur assessments, Freddy could go toe-to-toe with Viktor. Both men held similar statures: tall and bulky with muscle. Both men were well-known for their power behind every punch. In fact, Freddy was known as a boxer that gave some of his opponents' concussions. Something that plagued my head for the weeks that led up to the match and during the match itself.

The match was definitely not pretty, this time around. But it didn't start out as a blood-bath. The first three rounds were dull, in fact. It was like watching two brawny and half-naked men perform a choreography piece about missed punches in a fight. They were definitely evenly-matched, when it came to their skills.

Excitement didn't pick up until the last nine seconds of Round Three. As the round's last seconds ticked away, Freddy decided to make a hard straight left punch into Viktor's face. The impact of the gloved fist managed to make a loud, 'thra-waat' noise within the arena. I watched Viktor's head violently snap back just as my ears were flooded with the sounds of raucous cheers and spectators' sounds of shock.

As I bear witness to the hit, my heart felt like it sunk down into the pit of my stomach. 'This is it,' my mind screamed out as I watched Viktor stagger a few backward steps. I was sure that the punch gave him a concussion. One of which that would send him to the nearest hospital. My brain conjured up images of polished linoleum floors, brightly lit corridors that reeked of bleach and nurses' voices over P.A. speakers.

Viktor became aware of the hit too late and before he could retaliate, the bell rung and the referee wedged himself between them to separate them. I observed his as he walked back to his corner. I eyed his face and noticed a crimson streak making its way down the left side of his face. His left brow was gifted with a gash. His hazel-colored eyes were now black and cold. His jaw kept twitching, which meant that he was grinding his teeth against his mouth guard ever since he couldn't reach his tongue. The signs that Viktor was pissed off. It caused a strong flutter to run through me, and it left me with a chill.

When the bell rung at the beginning of the fourth round, Viktor damn-near ran a full-sprint from out of his corner. Then, round after round, the momentum for this match began to rise. The Garden Arena started to fill up with an energy that was intense, yet, exhilarating. The audience members stayed on their feet, shouting out boos or cheers. I saw mobs of fans wave giant banners that represented the American flag and the Russian flag. There were chants for each of the boxer's defeat. The opposing chants managed to blend within each other, making it sound like a melody of chaos. It did nothing to help the panic that I was feeling. Once Freddy had dropped onto the canvas in the ninth round, a scary and strong shot of relief struck me. It left me feeling shaky and like a brick was sitting in the pit of my belly. Tears began to cloud my vision as I watched Freddy's coach and medic enter the ring. Then I ended up eyeing the sauntering, big frame that was making his way back to his corner. His once-black eyes were focused on me.

A soft 'beeping' noise from the front door ended up pulling me from my thoughts.

'Viktor,' my instincts called out.

My bare feet padded from out of the bedroom and traveled into the living room. I entered just as Viktor pushed the front door open. I took in his appearance as he walked into the suite. He wore his usual: a baggy sweat suit that barely hid his muscular frame and the pullover's hood was draped over his head, concealing his face. A huge black duffel bag hung from his right shoulder. He allowed the door to close as he gave the living room a curious once-over.

"Viktor!," I squealed in delight.

Yes, I had gotdamned squealed.

Like the clichéd, happy-sappy girlfriend, I ran up to him and immediately embraced him. I buried your face into the front of his hoodie and I tightened my hold on his waist. When I felt his arms around move me and his face nuzzling into my neck, I felt my body unleash a massive amount of tension. Both of us stayed in that position for what felt like minutes, in silence. "Baby," I whimpered into his chest.

"Mmmm?" he groaned into my shoulder before gifting it with a kiss.

I turned my head to his right shoulder. "How are you feeling?" Then I realized that it was a dumb question. "Never mind that one." I released my hold on him and I felt his arms loosen up their hold on me. I reached up to touch the hem of his hood and then I gingerly removed it from his face. 'Oh my…' I felt my eyes widened in disbelief as I stared at his battered face.

In the years that I've known Viktor, whether as his friend or as his lover, I had never saw Viktor sport such a bruised face, after his matches. At minimal, he would show off a busted lip or a knot on his head. At his worse, there were stitched up gashes and black eyes. Tonight, Freddy did work his face over. His bushy, left eyebrow was disrupted by a ghastly wound that was closed together by suturing thread. There was a golf ball-sized knot being showcased on his forehead and right temple. Four stitches kept the gash that was on his nose's bridge closed. His right eye was on its way to being shut close by the swelling while his left eye carried a yellowish bruise underneath the bottom lid. His lips remained unscathed.

"How bad is it?" he mumbled, his eyes carried a twinkle of mischief.

"Mmmm…" I hummed while my lips formed a frown. "Well…" A frown formed in my brow as my eyes slightly squinted. I took an exaggerated sigh. "…I don't think my MAC, Maybelline or Fenty makeup can help you… Like… At all, right now, baby," I jibed.

A groan floated from his chest and I suddenly found myself being carried 'bridal-style' in his arms. A yelp filled the living room, crashed into the walls and splintered off into echoes. "Viktor!" I squealed, yet again.

My battered and bruised, fiancé chose to ignore my shouting. Instead, he carried me and his duffel in the direction that I had come from: the bedroom. Before we crossed the threshold, I heard his question.

"Bath or shower?"

I had eyed his face's profile. "What do you think?" I giggled.

~oMLo~

"Are your ribs okay?" I asked him for the millionth time, since we sat down in the bathtub. I glanced behind me, over my right shoulder, so I could stare at his waist.

Turned out, Viktor was too tired and too sore to tolerate a shower, so the notion of a bath won out, in the end. I decided to set the bath while he stripped out of his clothes. I ended up making silent and quick glimpses at my fiancé and my unborn child's father as he stripped out of his clothes. I took note of his slow actions, the hissing that came from his lips and the bruising that marred his flanks and ribs. As the soapy and foamed water reached a suitable level, I told Viktor that I've decided to sit this one out. He needed the bath and the alone time. But the Russian shot down my idea with a simple 'No' and a silent plea in his eyes.

A second later, I felt his wet hands lightly grasp onto my biceps and a trail of heat tickle my left ear. "I'm fine," he whispered. Then his lips caressed the curve of my ear.

The action didn't go unnoticed by my libido. A wave of heat, which was hotter than this bath water, licked at my body. "Oh… Okay," I whimpered into my right shoulder. He released my arms as I relaxed myself against his slicked torso.

Silence filled the bathroom. The random sounds of rippling water and the steady stream of voices from the bedroom's television were the soundtrack for our interlude. Meanwhile, I kept my sight on Viktor's wandering and caressing hands. His fingers traced the length of my arms and then my shoulders. Fingernails, then, lightly scraped themselves across my wet, heated flesh. A ball of pressure built up in my pelvis. A soft exhale escaped my nose as my head lolled to the side. A thought nicked at my brain and then tickled my funny bone. A smile appeared on my lips.

"I believe…" I sighed.

"Mmmm?"

"…this is how I ended up pregnant, in the first place," I told him. A second later, I felt his body slightly tremble while there was a wave of relaxed laughter. His hands broke the water's surface and found their way to my stomach. Just one of his hands, alone, could hold onto my belly.

"Vik?" I uttered as I stared at my bedroom's ceiling.

"Mmm?"

"I'm…" I had taken a pause. The tension in my jaw was making it hard to speak. My nerves were about to get the best of me. But I had to tell him. "I'm… Pregnant," I confessed.

My mouth clamped shut and I waited for his reaction. The adrenaline started to make my body emit a steady tremble. A shaking, right hand covered my eyes and the self-imposed darkness provided me with a cheap reprieve. God, I wanted to shriek out in frustration.

It was the soft trails of Viktor's breathing reminded me that he hasn't said a word to you yet.

"Viktor?" I called out, a few seconds later. The bedroom was suddenly filled with the sounds of thunder. Raindrops crashed against the windows and the storm drains. I called out his name again. He didn't respond. 'Vik—

I removed my hand from off of my eyes and I lifted my head off of the pillow. I peered down my body and to the hunched over figure that was at the foot of my sleigh bed. I was presented with the top of his head. He was staring at my mattress. His lack of verbal and physical response was unnerving. I was beginning to take it as a sign of bad news.

"Viktor?" I had pathetically whimpered. My eyes began to sting from the tears that were waiting to be released. "Viktor… Are you okay?" I said with a twinge of fear. "I mean… I-I-I mean… What are you—?

"Okay." Just one-note. One word.

'Whaa…what? Oh... Okay?! Okay? What...What does that mean?' My face slightly frowned up. "Vik—

Viktor lifted his head. Bright, hazel eyes stared at me with an intense energy blaring through. I didn't know how to take this expression. Was he angry? Was it hatred? Bitterness? I couldn't understand.

"Vik… What do you mean 'okay'?" I queried.

"Okay," he repeated before giving a short head nod. There was no malice, anger or even bitterness in his word and action. However, I didn't feel a sense of happiness or excitement from him, either.

"Vik-Viktor…? How…?" My voice trailed off. There was a huff, an effort to chase away the lump that was in my throat. "How…do you… feel about this? About me, being pregnant?" I sat up in my bed. "And you can tell me the truth. Don't lie. You don't have to worry about hurting my feelings or anything," I instructed him. I slipped to my hands and knees and proceeded to crawl to the foot of the bed. "I won't get mad at you for telling me what you want to do." Once at my destination, I kneeled in front of him. "Tell me, Viktor."

My voice was easy and forgoing, but I was a mess on the inside. Inside, I was petrified. I feared that his answer would make this love and the relationship turn into bullshit. I, myself, weren't expecting this pregnancy, but I was one-hundred percent behind the notion of becoming a parent. But, what about Viktor?

"Viktor?" my hands reached out for him. The right hand cupped his bearded, left cheek while my left hand held onto the back of his head. "Tell me." My cheeks became soiled with tears. 'Whatever happens, accept it.' This resolution made my heart thump.

Viktor's lips slightly parted, only to lick his bottom lip. His hazel-green eyes made a glimpse at the comforter again. A few seconds later, there was an "I don't know" from him. His voice was filled with uncertainty and insecurity.

"You don't know? About what, honey?"

"How… To be… A father," he eventually confessed to me.

A joyless laugh abruptly spilled from my mouth. Relief filled my spirit. He was worried about not knowing how to parent a child. 'Well, shit… I don't know how to be a mother, either.' Then I realized that my beloved didn't even have the proper parental figures to show him how. I knew that his mother, Ludmilla, abandoned them, when Viktor was still a toddler. Ivan has just began showing his son minimal physical affection. 'Shhhh-it,' I internally groaned as I was touched by grief. The caress on his cheek deepened as I planted a kiss on his forehead. Viktor took it upon himself to pull me into his strong-armed embrace. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I peered down at him. "I don't know how to be a mother, myself. But, I want to be. I just…" I sighed. "I just want for you to—

A groan from the boxer snatched me out from my thoughts. I looked over my shoulder and at his chest. Alarmed about hurting him, I jerked forward. "Are you okay? Is it your ribs? Did I hurt you, cos, I can get out of the tub and you—

"I'm fine, O," he moaned.

"Baby, are you sure? I can—

"O…"

There was a sense of finality in his accented voice, which made me clamp my lips shut.

"…I am…"

I felt his fingers released my stomach and then curl around my shoulders. There was subtle pull into his direction. I gave into his non-verbal command.

"…fine," he repeated. His arms wrapped around my shoulders and upper arms. He bent his head forward and gave my left temple a gentle nudge. "I am fine, O," he reaffirmed. There was an understated peck to my temple. "I am fine. I'm just… Trying to relax," he clarified. His hands returned to my awaiting belly. There was another kiss. His lips left a grazing trail from my temple to my ear. The tip of his nose performed a cheeky caress to the top…

…Just as I felt his hardened prick press against my back.

"Vozlublennaya…" he growled into my hairline.

He called me his 'beloved' and he fucking growled it!

A moan escaped from my mouth as my right hand clenched onto his right thigh. A shiver rolled through me. My nipples immediately hardened while there was a persistent throb in between my thighs. I pressed my back deeper into him and his prick.

"…I am fine…" His hands released my stomach. They swam through the warm water and found the tops of my thighs. His fingers began to stoke that fire which was my arousal. His lips found entertainment in my left cheek. Viktor decorated my face with kisses. "…As long as I am here, with you… I'm fine," he declared.

A breathy snicker left my mouth. The back of my head rested on his collarbone. I stared up at the vaulted ceiling and I proceeded to enjoy the attention that he was lavishing me with. He was also reminding me of the great disservice that we both were experiencing for the past seven weeks. To give him "an edge" over his competition, Viktor decided to take on the act of abstaining from sex, which made me abstain from sex. So yes, it has been a rough couple of months.

His fingers crawled down my thighs with a snail's pace. They were drawing close to that heated spot that wanted his touch badly. Above the water's surface, Viktor's lips decorated my cheek, temple and jaw with hot touches.

"Viktor…" I moaned as my hands broke the water's surface. My hands reached for his sturdy, wet shoulders. "…don't start something that you can't finish, sir," I joked. My tongue ran across my lips' surface, while I yearned for something else to be in my mouth rather than my own lips. I heard a soft grunt. "You fought tonight. Don't you think that you should take it easy tonight?" I teased. As I spoke, my hearing picked up the sounds of something diving into the water. There was more rippling along the bath water's surface. I've learned of his intentions, a few seconds later, when each underside of my thighs was grabbed by familiar hard flesh. I relinquished the control of my limbs and allowed my lover to take control. The notion in which this man was capable of anything caused me to shudder and lightly moan in pleasure.

I glanced down at the water's surface and found that Viktor's legs were already in position. His long and massive legs were bent at the knees and the outsides were pressed against the sides of the bath tub. A second later, I watched my legs break surface and he guided them to press along the insides of his thighs. 'His and hers…'

Viktor's hands left my knees and smoothed down the tops of my thighs. His lips continued to kiss my cheek and jaw while my lips released curt whimpers. I continued to watch his hands' slow and teasing descent on my legs. Once they reached the water line, a quivering moan fell from my mouth. "Vik…tor," I ended up whimpering.

There was a strong shudder and a groan, as soon as I felt gentle swipe at my cunt's seam. I was revved up and greatly wanting pleasure from him, a caress could've made me cum. Fingers cupped my left tit as his fingers made a firm stroke against my swollen lips. Both hardened nubs were teased: his fingers pinched at my nipple while his fingertips found my clit. Rumbling was exploding in my ears while pleasure made my body shiver. Trails of juddering breaths sailed from out of my mouth and into the elaborate setting. My fingernails dug into his slicked skin from his shoulders. I turned my face into his jaw, where my tongue licked at the wet, salty skin. "Viktor… Got-damned, you feel good," I moaned.

When his thick fingers plunged into my pussy, my whole body unleashed a hard convulsion. The walls to the suite's master bathroom was greeted with a loud moan and a harsh-sounding curse. My right hand reached for the back of his neck. My fingernails grazed against the stubble of hair that lined up along his neck, causing a whisker-burn against my skin. My feet broke through the water line and came to rest on his kneecaps, making my legs spread wider and deepening the pleasure that he was giving me.

"Khorosho, prosto tak," he growled. "Tak derzhat' nogi." He withdrew his digits from out of my gash. My clitoris was drawn in between his fingertips, where it was pinched and then caressed by the pad of his thumb.

My body convulsed and a tactless moan escaped from you. My right hand shot out to its side and my fingers clenched down on the edge of the tub. "…Vik… Vik… Viktor, baby…" I moaned.

"Ty khochesh' bol'she?" he groaned. His fingers released my clit from its clutch. "Ty khochesh' bol'she?" he repeated, before he drew his fingers down on my pussy and began to pat at my sex with a frenzied pace. A fleshy band of muscle wrapped around my stomach and a hand cupped onto my right breast. Fingers kneaded the supple flesh and sensitive nipple, causing my chest lift away from him and my stomach to contract from the pleasure.

"Ty mokryy dlya menya?" I heard whispered into my ear. I didn't know what he asked me in Russian, but I quickly found the question's context. His caressing fingers gave my pussy a massaging pat to my clit before spreading my petals apart and sinking two thick, long digits into my waiting gash.

The sensation of being stretched had me moaning and writhing.

"Ty khoroshiy i mokryy dlya menya," he groaned. His sheathed fingers performed a slow crawl from my cunt. His slicked tips rubbed at my clit and then they traced my lips' seam, once more before returning to my pussy. He stroked her walls a few times before going back to rub at my pearl and lips. His fingers, then, plunged into my cunt with a languid thrust. He gave my pussy a finger-fuck with strokes that were deep, unhurried and hard. The pad to his thumb would dance along the surface of my clit.

My hips writhed against his probing fingers, against his cock and the bath tub's floor. I yearned for him to bring me over the edge and make me cum. "…Viktor," I continued to whimper his name as he brought me closer to my climax.

"You wanna cum, vozlyublennaya," he grunted into my temple. "You wanna cum for me?" he teased. Still gripped by my hungry cunt, his fingertips hooked and found the spot that he knew would be waiting for him. A shrilled, feminine gasp filled the bathroom. "You wanna…" His fingertips proceeded to rub at my G-spot with at a hurried pace. His hand's ministrations caused the bath water to become break out in ripples and waves.

Pressure in the pit of my stomach seeped into my cunt, making her walls spasm. My thighs tightened as my feet sporadically flexed and pointed, while they rested on his kneecaps. I writhed against my beloved's chest even harder and clumsily. "Viktor…" was able to be freed from my mouth before I was pushed over the edge by my pleasure. A fog filled my head, which dulled all of my senses and made me succumb to my carnality. Blood-red light flashed underneath my eyelids as my snarled lips and clenched teeth cried out in gratification. The light turned into a murky shade of black as the steady stream of strong quakes was broken down into clumsy tremors. With a huff of breath escaping from my mouth, my body stilled against Viktor's hot, wet and stronger one. My back was greeted by his prick, which was still hard. "Viktor," I whimpered as my head lolled to my left shoulder.

A firm kiss was given to my forehead, in response.

~oMLo~

Viktor and I had lingered in the bath for an additional hour, so we could enjoy this sense of intimacy that I knew we couldn't find at home. Being in a luxury hotel suite, alone and without Ivan lurking about was definitely a treasure.

After conversing and getting cleaned up once more, we both decided to step out of the tub and prepare for bed. Viktor was the first to step out of the tub, and like the gentleman that he was, he helped me out. Both of us took turns drying each other off, in silence. As I dried his torso off, I took note of the erection that my fiancé was still carrying. After I dried off his other appendages, I was about to wrap my hand around his stiff prick, when he stopped me with a firm grip on my wrist. Viktor gave me a kiss on my forehead and took the towel from my hand. "Not now, okay? Maybe later," he told me after I gave him a questioning look. He wrapped the towel around his waist.

"Okay," I murmured. He gifted me with a subtle grin, which was the same boyish grin that made me want to sprinkle his face with kisses. It was also the same grin that made me realized that Viktor Drago wasn't a short-tempered oaf, all those years ago. I, then, watched my lover make his exit from the bathroom. After he left, I proceeded to undergo my nightly, beauty routine. Then I slipped on the thick, terry-cloth bath robe that was gifted by the hotel, before making my way from out of the bathroom. I trekked back to the master bedroom and found Viktor. My hubby-to-be was laying on the king-sized bed, still wrapped up in the towel. He was resting against the family of fluffy pillows that were at the head of the bed. He was in the middle of watching an episode of ESPN's 'Sports Center' while holding onto bottled water. I walked to the foot of the bed to fetch for my discarded clothes while enjoying the ordinary transaction of events. It was there, when I discovered the torn wrappers that belonged to the Oreo cookies. They were resting on the mattress, a hand-reach away from Viktor. I laughed, once I've made the discovery.

Hazel eyes peered at me as his brow performed a subtle frown of confusion.

I flimsily pointed into his direction. With the tail end of my laughter still etched to my voice, I explained the laughter's origin. "I was… Wondering, when you were going to find those cookies. I saw them in the mini-bar, yesterday, and I immediately thought of you!"

A slow and lazy smile crept onto his face as he peered down at the scene of the cookie massacre.

I turned away from my fiancé and I ended up catching the tail end to the televised, news segment. They were showcasing highlights from Viktor's fight, right when his arms were raised in victory. Looking into his bloodied face, I saw relief fill his eyes. It was over, finally over. For my baby, it has been a tenuous five months: the training, being away from home and the strict diets. The emotional blowback from Ivan for his decision of taking this fight. The constant act of forcing his social introversion to the back-burner so he could do interviews and other press to promote the fight. He did it, and tonight, all of his hard work paid off.

I looked over to my Viktor. "You know… I think this was the first boxing match that I've saw you in, which I was afraid for you," I confessed.

Viktor didn't verbally respond. Instead, the usual keen glint in his eyes had softened as he stared at me. He gingerly raised himself into a straighter, upright position and he rested his back against the pillows. He gave me another glance, then he glimpsed at the empty side of the bed and then right back at me. His right hand gave an unoccupied spot a flurry of pats.

I understood and climbed onto the bed. I crawled your way over to my destination, which was by his left side. Once there, I rested my head on his brawny left shoulder and my waist was cradled by his heavy arm. I draped my right arm over his toned stomach, where my fingers lightly grasped his side. I turned my face into his neck. I took in the scent of the muted fragrance from the bath oil. I looked at the bruising that graced his left cheek. "I don't know…" My right set of fingers began to draw invisible circles against his hair-covered chest. "…if it's this pregnancy and me knowing that…" My fingers curled into themselves and allowed my knuckles to run across the planes of his abdominal muscles. I heard Viktor's sharp and low inhale, which made his stomach's muscles more pronounced. "…we're about to become parents… But I was worried and scared that you were going to be seriously injured, tonight. Like, 'waiting in a hospital's waiting room' worried, Vik. Especially during the end of the third round, when that 'Freddy' asshole gave you that hard left…" As I spoke, I recalled that moment. "…I thought…" Warm and soft lips kissed me, on my hairline. A smile rose to my lips. "…that he had given you a straight-up concussion at that moment and you…"

"But, he didn't," Viktor pointed out.

"…were going to a nearby hospital." There was a twinkle in his eyes, which let me know that I shouldn't have to worry about him, whenever he was in the ring. "I can't help, but worry about you, Viktor."

My caressing, right hand was snatched up by his own. There was a gentle tug, a command, for me to come closer to him. I understood where he wanted me to go and I obliged. I removed myself from his side and then straddled his covered hips. My hands brushed away my robe's thick fabric from off of my thighs, so I could be sit comfortably. My hands sought after his cheeks while his large mitts sought after my hips.

"I'm fine," he confirmed and repeated once more. "Look at me…" He did a quick glance at himself before looking at you with some mirth in his eyes. "…I am here…" His fingertips dug into the soft, thick layer of my robe. "…with you… Vozlyublennaya," he spoke. Just as he called me his beloved, his hips lifted off of the mattress. His hips pumped into my bottom while his shrouded hardness rubbed along my sex and ass.

A surge of heat filled me up and flooded my core. I pressed down onto his need, which earned me a guttural moan from him. My lips kissed a trail from the ghastly bump on his forehead to the tip of his nose. With the tip of my nose, I traced his nose's straight bridge. Hovering over his slightly pursed lips, I released an "I love you," before claiming them with my own. Enflamed pecks that mated our tongues and allowed teeth to nip at each other's bottom lips.

"Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu," he muttered in between a pair of kisses.

As we continued to kiss and as our passions built up, my fingers found the thick knot that kept the robe's sash tied together. I expertly unfurled the bow and then peeled the robe from off of me. I tossed it without a care of its landing. Bared and exposed to him, I felt his callused and thick hands tantalized my soft skin as they caressed my flank and tits. Meanwhile, my hands turned their focus onto his towel's fastening. I felt like I was unwrapping a gift. It has been seven weeks since I've had sex with Viktor, so it was a gift, with all things considered. My lips parted from Viktor's seductive lips, so I could look at what I've been missing for all of these months. A hiss-like moan slithered from my parted lips as my cunt did a squeeze in anticipation. She wept her nectar in preparation and it coated the inside of my thighs, as well as, my pussy's lips.

Viktor had the perfect dick. Just the right length and thickness, like every one of his other appendages. I eyed his glans and noticed that he was already displaying a stream of pre-cum for me. My fingers traced the length of his hot, turgid flesh, from the base to the tip of his cock. I saw him flinch and then contract his stomach, in response. His reaction made me cream even more. I performed the same tantalizing and taunting move again. This time, my grazing digits started with the tip of his glans and made a trail down the shaft. Fingers wrapped around the bottom of his prick and I gave his length a firm stroke up to the tip, where my thumb and forefinger lightly pinched the cluster of skin. A drop of his pre-cum coated my fingertips. I rubbed his essence into his sensitive flesh. My hearing was covered with the sound of his growl-like moan. My hand repeated the motion.

"O…" he moaned, "…pozhaluysta".

I performed a glimpse at his face. He carried the expression of a man that was deep in the sea of gratification. The back of his head rested against the headboard and the wall that was behind it. His cheeks, throat and ears carried a crimson blush across the skin. His eyes were shut. A deep frown graced his brow ridge. His lips were slightly parted. The crease in his brow increased as your hand stroked his cock once more. My fingertips slowly traced the ring around his glans. His fingernails dug into my hips as a moan left him. Then I was serenaded by his rugged exhales as I kept to jerking him off.

"…Pozhaluysta," he grunted as his thrust his hips into my cupped hand. His fingers found their way to my ass. There was subtle push. A non-verbal plea for me to ride him. With Viktor's blatant display of want, he had my desire burning bright. "Pozhaluysta," he moaned, once more.

With a slow exhale, I lifted up to my knees and I set myself into position. As my cunt hovered over his stroked prick, I seductively teased him by grazing his tip with my slicked petals. I used him to trace along my folds. His harsh breathing filled my ears. I glanced at him. "You like this?" I teased, knowing how sensitive his cock could be, when he was hard.

Viktor didn't open his eyes to look at me or even speak. His head performed feverish nods.

A soft giggle escaped from my mouth. My roving, right hand sank down to the base of his cock and held him up. My left hand, then, aided his glans past my slicked folds and cunt's entry. Then I lowered, impaling myself on his thickness. To the soundtrack of Viktor's throaty groans, a hiss left my mouth as my cunt stretched and accommodated his cock's fullness. It has been years and I've still never been able to freely take his member. My hands took settlement on his strong chest as I took more of him into my warmth. A shook moan fell from my lips, once he had bottomed out. "Viktor," I whimpered. I continued to nip and expand at his sturdy length as he was nestled in me.

"Y/N," he grunted just as his pelvis bumped into mine. "Y/N," he sighed, "…come on, vozlyublennaya, come on".

With my own rough exhale, I lifted off of Viktor and felt his cock become drawn. With his glans still inside, I had sank back down onto his member, in one smooth stroke. Another gasp escaped from me. The right hand reached behind me and held onto his thigh while the left hand found interest in my clitoris. Fingertips drew tiny and slow circles on my nectar-coated nub, causing throbs of pleasure to bloom inside of me. I had ground my pussy on his hair-adorned groin. Once again, Viktor bumped his pelvis against, a silent plea for me to ride his cock.

I've decided to fulfill his wish. The feeling of his prick going along my cunt's walls and stirring her nerve endings, drove me further. His wandering hands caressed my thighs, my waist, tits, and finally, my pussy. A thumb's callused pad busily gnashed on that knot of nerves. I felt my bouncing, body shuddered, mid-stroke, from the bolt of pleasure that burst in my pelvis. "Ahhh…" I lightly moaned. A shrilled moan came from my lips. "Vik… That's it, baby. That's it… God, that's it," you cried. "That's it. That's it…"

Viktor brought himself forward, pressing his chest to mine and he ended up wrapping me up in his strong-arm embrace. His broad shoulders became my hands' solace and I held on as I continued to ride his hardness, eliciting pleasure for the both of us.

I brought my forehead to meet his, bringing our faces close together and for my lips to graze each other. "Oh God," I grunted. "I love you, Viktor," I moaned into his mouth. "I love you. I lah-love… You. I love you…" I continued to chant my love for him in the form of moans and whimpers.

The hold around my waist tightened up, and soon, I was lifted up. My legs immediately wrapped around his waist. My lips found their way to his while he placed me on my back, on the plush comforter. Hands reached around his back and found the point of union that was between my ankles. He freed his waist from my legs' clutches. His fingers found the back of each of my knees and he led my calves to drape over the crook of his elbows. Then he lowered his sweat-sodden frame to my awaiting body. His hands found rest on the bed, by each of my sides. His cock felt thicker and lengthier, now. I grabbed onto his hips and braced myself for the onslaught of thrusts that I knew was coming. It didn't take Viktor long to gain control of our pleasure. He reared his hips and welcomed my pussy with a firm, quick thrust that buried his prick deep inside of me. He brought his groin on me and ground his pelvis against my exposed folds and clit.

A strangled cry was ripped from my throat as my manicured nails dug into his skin. "Viktor," I whimpered. My head lifted off of the mattress, so I could peer down, in between our bodies and at the point of our union. Bars of light from the bedside lamp allowed me to catch glimpses of his glistening shaft as it pummeled my pussy. My eyes fluttered from the sensory overload that I was going through. "FFFFF... FFF...uck, Viktor," I groaned as I rested my head again. His cock felt so good inside of me and just viewing it, heightened my pleasure.

"Moy…" he moaned into my exposed throat. "…Ty moy… Ty moy… Khorosho." He resumed. Hip snaps that gifted me with short, hard thrusts that left echoes of clashing bodies, along our bedroom's walls. As he fucked me into that mattress, there were rushed, pants that fanned my face. Moans and whimpers escaped from him. His lips irregularly doled out pecks to me as I laid underneath his writhing form.

At one point, my lips kissed sweet pecks along his jawline. My left hand clasped the back of his head and I kissed him again. "I'm yours, Viktor," I cried out. "Baby, I'm yours." A song of moans flew out of my mouth, cutting off the declaration. My right hand traveled down to his ass, where my fingers dug into the plump, flesh-covered muscle.

Viktor released the left leg and brought himself closer to me. He planted his bruised face into the crook that made up my neck and shoulder. He nuzzled the heated, soft flesh before sinking his teeth into my shoulder.

The hard, deep thrusts from his dick and the intermittent slow drags against my clit brought forth my orgasm. "Viktor," I whimpered, "Viktor". The first climatic wave had my body feeling taut and my toes curling. "Viktor… Viktor… viktorviktorviktorviktor…" I panted as my body was racked with pleasure-induced shivers. His name was the only thing that came from my lips as I unraveled. Bursts of yellowish light flashed across my closed eyes as I came.

As I gathered your senses again. I picked up the erratic and clumsily breathing from Viktor. "—sho. Khorosho. Kho…" he mumbled in my ear. He was about to cum. His hips' rhythm became a staccato and blundering melody. "O… O…" His words were cut by a voracious moan, which was spat onto my shoulder. His body unleashed subtle quakes. I felt my cunt tightened up after his cock's head nudged at my cervix as he spilled his seed.

With a huff, he was about to collapse on top of me, which was his usual go-to move after sex. But, he came to a smooth and controlled halt. He remembered that I was carrying, even in his post-sex, muddled state. His hazy eyes glared at me as he removed himself from out of me and then from off of me. He found a resting spot beside me, where he plopped down and landed on his back.

A few minutes later, I made my way over to his side. I slipped my head on his uninjured, left shoulder and his arm wrapped around my waist. My resting head was welcomed by waves of soft vibrations that came from his racing heart. The suite was being serenaded by the sounds that came from a television program and heavy, sluggish breathing as we both lain together. It began to lull me to sleep.

"Did I hurt you?"

The inquiry caused me to jerk your head up. With closed eyes, I turned my face in his direction. "Mmm?" I sluggishly moaned. "What did—?

"Did I hurt you?" he repeated. "Sometimes, I forget that I have to be careful because of—

"No!" I called out. "No…" My lips gave his pectoral a kiss. "No, no, baby. You didn't hurt me. You didn't hurt me at all," I reported. I rested my head on his chest. "You've never hurt me. Never." I knew the reason why he brought it up. The night of our kid's conception—the cause behind this kid's conception—was due to a torn condom, which could've been brought on due to Viktor's gregarious nature during sex.

He made a deep inhale. On the exhale, there was a "Good… Good".

'Good.' A soft smile touched my lips. I closed my eyes and listened to his heartbeats.

"How's the baby?" he questioned.

I remembered the fact that Viktor missed one of my doctor's appointments. He was out of town, training with Ivan and the rest of his team. He missed out on the opportunity of seeing the sonogram's findings. I also educed that this was the first time that I felt that cold and empty sensation that came with being alone.

"She's fine," I told him, blinking away the memory and the possible tears that were impending. "Our baby is doing all right. My doctor said that she's developing on time and is healthy, from what she could see. I also have…" I took in a deep breath. "I have some sonogram pictures for you to look at. They're in my suitcase."

His throat pulled out an "Mmm-hmm," which sounded like a groaning bear. He gave my flank an appreciative caress and then the bedroom had fallen silent. But it came to an end, when he spoke up again. "I'm sorry."

"For what, baby?" This time, I opened your eyes and I stared at him. I found my fiancé staring at the ceiling. "For what, Viktor?" My hand reached out and I gave his chin a friendly squeeze. "Tell me, Vik."

"For… Leaving you alone," he admitted. He sighed. "I was busy. With… Training. I wasn't with you. I know that I should be around."

My stomach clenched and my heart began to race after I've heard his admission. He was aware. I didn't have to tell him. Guilt nipped at my spirit.

"I… I accept your apology, Viktor. But, I would like for you to know that… I knew that there were going to be some times, where you won't be there because you're training or doing something else. I wasn't expecting you to drop everything to be there." My fingers made his head turn into my direction. I could see the remorse in his face and in his eyes. "In regards to us, baby, we're good," I reaffirmed. My fingertips caressed his bottom lip. "But we did miss you… A lot." I watched a slow smile creep up on his face, which reflected my own. "I love you, Viktor," I declared, a few seconds later.

His left hand grasped my busy fingers and guided them to his lips, where he gave them a kiss. "Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu."

~oMLo~

After taking a quick shower, which we shared, we both slipped into some clothes finally and then settled into bed. I noticed that it closer to daybreak, when I caught a glimpse of the sky, from the floor-to-ceiling windows. I knew that I wouldn't get enough sleep in today, ever since Viktor wanted me to accompany him as he ran errands. Once I settled into our favorite position: I was laying on my left side with Viktor cuddled up behind me and his hand holding onto my stomach, I noticed how quickly slumber was approaching. I was about to be submerge into sleep, when my ears picked up Viktor speaking to me. I turned my head slightly and my eyes opened half-mast. "Mmm, baby?" I murmured.

"I said…" His lips touched my ear. "…let's get married," he answered.

'Whaaa….? What is he talking about?' I internally questioned, but not putting too much consideration into his statement. 'Yeah, married. Soon... We will...' A slow sigh came from my nose before I nuzzled deeper into my pillow. "Mmmm?! Yes, baby, we're getting married," I muttered. I was itching to go back to sleep.

His hand lightly tapped its fingertips against my ribs. "No… I mean… Let's get married, today."

'WHAT?!' My eyes snapped opened. 'What…?' I rolled around to my right side, so I could face my fiancé. "What did you just say, Vik?"

"I said, that we should get married today. Like, at one of those little..." His voice trailed off. Then, there was a muttering of "Kakogo khrena ty ikh nazyvayesh'? The little churches—

"Chapels, wedding chapels," I interjected, filling him in. "So… So-so-so…" I stammered. "You want to go down to a chapel and get married… Today?"

"Da," he stated with a tilt of his right eyebrow.

"Yes?"

"Da."

"Are you… sure? Are you sure that you want to get married today, Vik?"

"Yes, I am sure. I want to marry you today. If it was up to me, we would've been married, many months ago," he confessed.

"B-Baby…" My voice trailed off.

I found myself unable to speak. I was shocked and pleasantly surprised by Viktor's revelation. He would've married me as soon as possible, if it was up to him. He kept his feelings and his desire to himself because he wanted to keep me happy. He was aware that you wanted a ceremony, along with a reception. So, he kept quiet.

'That has always been Vik, though.' The stoic and imposing-looking, Russian always looked after me and had made sure that I was always comfortable, happy and safe, whether if I was in his company or not. Even when we were friends that secretly harbored crushes on each other.

'Yee-

"Yes," my lips suddenly announced. 'Yes.' You nodded. "Yes, Vik... I want to marry you today."

"You sure?" he asked with a teasing lilt to his voice.

I chuckled as tears began to decorate my cheeks. "Yes," I confirmed. "Yes, today." I reached over and kissed him. "Yes, I want to marry you today, Viktor."

"Good," he groaned. "Good." He gave me another kiss.

As we kissed, I realized that Viktor had plans for the day. "Viktor… Your plans for today," I uttered as soon as our lips part. "We can't get married today," I notified him. I watched a sly grin appear on his face, in response. It caused a fluttering to erupt inside of my belly. "What, Viktor?"

He gave his bottom lip a lick before he spoke. "That was my plan today," he confessed. I broke out in a laugh. "That was my plan. I was going to take you down to a little wedding chapel and ask you to marry me today rather than wait some more," he explained. "I know that you don't want to get married, when you're big—

That description for the pregnancy earned Viktor a light jab to his left shoulder. He laughed it off.

"I know that you don't want to wait for then. So… I think we should, vozlyublennaya."

I stared into Viktor's bruised eyes and simply nodded.

"Da?" he stated with a soft tone.

"Da," I confirmed with another nod before going in for another kiss.

'See? Simple.'