DALLIUS ALEXANDRONOVICH SERGEVEV'S POINT OF VIEW
She is holding her breath so still she might have forgotten how to draw air at all.
Our position is more than a little awkward, but I like it well enough to pay no mind.
Her waist is soft beneath my hands, a pleasure to hold. You would never guess how slender she is just looking at her—probably because of the oversized shirt hanging loose over her frame.
I fight back a laugh. Her face is bright red, clearly mortified by how close we are pressed together right now.
I want to tease her more—she is so damn cute. For the first time in my life, a woman does not annoy me.
I tilt my head, keeping my eyes locked on hers. "Hmm? Aren't you going to help me?" I ask, my voice light as summer air.
Her mouth opens and closes several times, no words coming out. She keeps trying until she finally stops—clearly at a loss for what to say.
Cute.
My body is straining, almost painful now. I need release more than anything.
But I will not scare her—not yet. I need a place to stay, and she is my best chance at that.
She is thinking hard, her guard still up. She does not fully trust me yet, so she calculates every angle. Planning, maybe?
It is almost funny—who would have thought she would claim to be my wife? It makes things easier for me, harder for her. I am genuinely curious what she will do or say next.
I bite my lip as I feel myself press against her most sensitive spot. Fuck—I am barely holding on. My body is too tired to take care of this myself.
She still has not spoken, so I decide to push a little further. I run my hands along her hips and feel her shudder beneath my touch. We keep staring at each other, neither of us looking away.
Shit—I am going to lose control. What do I do? I need her help, and I need it now.
I swallow hard. Looks like I will have to swallow my pride as Pakhan too. I need to act like a normal man. This is just part of the act, right?
I take a deep breath, then pout and wrap my arms around her. Pressing myself against her, I feel the warmth of her skin seeping through her shirt.
"Please. Help me, wife." God damn it—I never thought I would say that word to anyone. "I will ask about what happened to me later—it hurts everywhere, but nothing hurts as much as this ache between my legs." Fuck, that is pathetic. What choice do I have though? I need her on my side, and this is the only way I can think to get her there.
To my surprise, it works. Her eyes go wide as she stares at me.
"O-Oh my god?! Can't we treat your wounds first? We can deal with that later—" Oh no you don't, Sasha.
"I don't want to!" I have thrown every bit of my pride out the window now. She has no idea who I really am, so I suppose it is fine to act like this.
I push my lower lip out further—wanting to gag at my own behavior. "Are you really my wife? I can't remember anything, but I know I can trust you. Please? It just needs to be soothed—it won't bite you or anything."
Seriously, Dallius? Who would believe that nonsense?
But she does. She is deep in thought now, overthinking as always. It is impossible to miss—she is frozen in place, gripping my shoulders so tight her knuckles shine white.
I never could have predicted her answer.
"O-Okay, but w-wait a second hehe."
I am stunned—she actually bought my ridiculous excuse. She stands up and covers her eyes, finally realizing I am completely naked.
"Where are you going?" I ask, my Tagalog a little clumsy—I am not used to speaking it so casually.
I raise an eyebrow as her face drains of color. Something must have crossed her mind that she does not like one bit.
"Lettuce! No way!" She shouts, confirming my suspicion.
Wow. This woman is something else.
I almost burst out laughing but manage to cover my mouth just in time. I have never met anyone this unpredictable.
What on earth is she thinking to make her look like that? Should I keep pushing?
I want to hear her voice again. I need to keep talking to her.
"Are you a kidnapper?" I ask, my face completely deadpan. Amnesiacs ask weird questions—this should be believable enough.
"Yes—what?!" Her round eyes go even wider. I furrow my brow—she really is insane.
What a ridiculous woman.
She stares at me in shock before recovering enough to glare and point a finger at my chest.
"You! You're a spy from another country, aren't you? Are you here to attack our country? Let me tell you—you won't find any wealth here. The government already stole all our money."
See? Absolutely ridiculous. But why do I feel so warm inside? For the first time in my life, I feel like I can actually trust someone.
I want to tease her more, so I put on a confused expression.
"I'm not a spy. You said you're my wife—are you denying me now?" My voice comes out softer, sadder than I intended.
I hide a grin as she spins around and mutters to herself. "This man must have rocks in his head."
I watch her stamp her foot in frustration—she looks adorable when she is mad.
"I take it back. I'm not your wife—I'm your aunt."
I am even more shocked this time. Damn it—I can't keep up with her! I am still trying to process when she speaks again.
"Yeah... I'm your aunt, and you've been staying with me because I live alone. You said you were going fishing the other day but didn't come home yesterday. Then we found you on the beach earlier, and you must have hit your head because you can't remember anything now." She is breathless by the time she finishes.
Fine—I will play along. I have no intention of leaving anyway.
I stand up without thinking, my body aching and covered in wounds as I walk toward her—completely naked.
Her eyes go wide as saucers, fixed on what is already rock hard between my legs.
"Eww! C-Can't you cover up that hotdog of yours?" She covers her eyes but I can see one peeking through her fingers.
"Liar." I say firmly. It is worth it just to see her reactions—she is too cute for words.
"W-What liar? I'm not lying!" She protests immediately, looking up at me now, clearly nervous about what I will say next.
"Then why did you undress me? If I'm your nephew, why are you staring at me like this?"
She slaps her palm against her forehead, finally realizing how flimsy her story is.
Now... how will she get out of this one?
"I was going to clean your wounds." There we go...
"Then clean me up, Auntie." I tease her.
Her face lights up like she has just won the lottery. She looks genuinely thrilled to change the subject.
"Right! Wait here—I'll get the first aid kit." She is practically beaming as she speaks. I say nothing, just watch her bounce on her toes with excitement.
She is strange—but I can't look away from her. It is like there is a magnet pulling my eyes to her every move.
She is addictive. Her cheerful energy and absurd way of talking are impossible to ignore.
She pulls over a chair, clearly intending for me to sit.
"Okay, sit down—uh, what was it again?" I raise an eyebrow. "What's your name anyway?" Oh right... I need a new identity for this act.
"I-I can't remember. You're my aunt—don't you know?" I shoot back.
She smacks her forehead again, catching on to what I am saying.
"R-Right... An... Angelo!"
My jaw nearly hits the floor. I have to fight to keep from laughing out loud.
"Your name is Angelo." She repeats, as if that will make it stick.
Holy shit—Angelo? The name does not fit me at all.
But I have no choice. We are both putting on a show now, so I let her have her way.
"Fine..." I say.
"What? Do you not like it? It's a beautiful name! Besides, it's popular—I see it on lots of headstones when I walk past the cemetery."
I can't believe this woman—she named me after dead people she saw in a graveyard?! God, she really is weird.
Weird and absolutely adorable. A smile tugs at my lips as I play along, letting sweetness creep into my voice.
"Then clean me up, Auntie." I repeat her words back to her.
"Just sit down already." She orders.
"I don't want to—you sit instead." I insist.
I didn't think she would actually do it, but she does. That is when the idea hits me.
My eyes drift down to what is still standing tall and ready before her.
I can't hold back anymore—I feel like I will explode if I wait another second.
The moment she settles into the plastic chair, I let myself brush against her lips.
My entire body burns—fuck, I can't take this anymore.
Without hesitation, I take her hand and guide it to where I need her most.
My breath comes hot and heavy as I look down at her perfect face so close to me. She looks beautiful like this—even more so than I imagined.
What would she look like with her mouth around me?
"H-Hey?!" She gasps.
"Stop pretending. I know you're my wife." My voice drops low—all patience gone now. I need her to touch me, to take me in her mouth. Now.
I don't want to frighten her, but I can't control myself any longer. My skin is on fire and every nerve ending is screaming for release.
I curve my lips into a smirk. "Come on. Suck me, wife." My tone is calm, but beneath it lies an urgency I can barely contain.
I am not acting anymore. From the moment I first saw you, everything about me has shifted. You have changed me in ways I never thought possible.
You made me laugh in a single instant, Sasha. You earned my trust without even trying and made me drop every wall I have ever built.
At first, I told myself I would use you—to escape my world, to take what I needed from your body and your life. I have been taking advantage of your kindness from the start. The name you gave me does not fit at all—I know that.
You have given me everything—your innocence, your hard work, your care. I tried to convince myself none of this was real, that we were just playing parts for our own benefit.
I told myself the strange feelings growing inside me were just part of the act, just side effects of using you for my plan.
But then I saw you working yourself sick, pushing through exhaustion to take care of us both.
No one has ever cared for me like that. It cracked something open in my cold heart. For the first time, I felt like I mattered to someone—and that is when I knew I had to give something back before I left.
I wanted to show you kindness no one at work has ever seen from me. I cooked for you, nursed you when you were ill, made love to you like you were the only woman in the world.
I made sure every moment we shared would stay with you forever. I made sure you would fall for me completely.
I won't let you forget me when I'm gone, Sasha. Because from the second you helped me that day on the beach—you became mine.
Mine to break and mine to use.
All mine, Sasha.