Warning: Contains mature content
"I left Russia as soon as the wedding was over," he told me. "I'm afraid Nicholas is going to be terribly upset at me for missing the reception, but I knew that the situation here was urgent."
"Oh, George!" I cried, clinging desperately to him. He held me and rubbed my back soothingly, murmuring comforting words.
Eventually the physician emerged once again to inform us that Mathilde had delivered a healthy son and was herself barely clinging to life. When I saw her again a short time later, I had to gasp, as I'd never seen anyone so close to death before. She was so pale that her skin was almost the color of the white sheets, and she looked utterly exhausted. My memory took me back to where I'd once been fascinated by the intimate relationship she'd shared with Nicholas, awed by the fact that she was sharing her body with a future Tsar. I'd been a little bit envious, even, but all I could feel for her now was pity.
Vladimir, to be known as Vova, slept peacefully in a tiny cot at her side. Looking into his tiny face, I could clearly discern traces of both Nicholas' and Mathilde's features, blended in a most pleasing manner to produce a beautiful child. Fascinated, I couldn't take my eyes off him. Would George and I likewise someday create such a marvelous creature? I fervently hoped that we would.
"Did you ever see such a beautiful baby?" I asked George later, when we were alone.
He considered the question. "I was only eleven when Olga was born, so my memories of her as a newborn are a bit hazy." Suddenly he grinned and pulled me into a tight embrace. His erect member, separated from me only by our clothing, pressed against me urgently, more so than ever before. "Right now I have other things on my mind."
He clasped my face between his hands and began to kiss me, using his tongue as he had right after we'd wed. I clung to him, pressing my body as close to his as I could, as he deftly unfastened my dress and tugged it off. The remainder of my clothing quickly followed, and when I was completely naked, he scooped me up into his arms and carried me to the bed.
With my heart pounding in my ears, I watched as he removed his own clothing. He laughed at my eagerness. "Patience," he told me. "Good things come to those who wait."
When at last I saw his male organ for the first time, I gasped and involuntarily reached for it. Gingerly I held and caressed it as I marveled at its firm smoothness.
He laughed, amused. "You can be a little bit rougher than that. It isn't that fragile."
Suddenly I wondered how many ballerinas were in his past. It was a subject we'd never discussed, at least in part because I was afraid of what I might learn. I thought of Nicholas and Alix, likely joining their bodies together at this very moment just as George and I were, of Nicholas' and Mathilde's combined features so obvious on Vova's tiny face. Did Alix know about Mathilde? Would either she or Nicholas ever learn the truth about Vova?
George now lay beside me on the bed, his mouth and hands ravishing every inch of my skin. I felt wild, hot desire well up inside me as I never had before, so much so that I realized that I was panting and moaning just a little. George chuckled at my response.
At last he moved over me and positioned himself at my entrance. Aware that I was a virgin, he entered me very slowly and gently, but I still found the experience to be quite painful at first. It was some minutes before I began to feel anything that remotely resembled pleasure, and by that time, it was nearly over.
"Well, was it everything you always hoped it would be?" he asked me as we held one another afterwards.
"It was kind of painful at first, but after that it was all right," I told him honestly.
"I'm sorry I hurt you, Bonnie." I heard the contrition in his voice and felt bad for him. "I tried to be as gentle as I could."
"That's all right. It isn't your fault," I told him. "The first time is painful for all women, I suppose. At last we're truly husband and wife now."
He laughed and held me close, smelling faintly and comfortingly of sweat combined with something unfamiliar.
Several weeks later, Sergei Mikhailovich arrived to escort Mathilde back to Russia. She'd recovered somewhat from Vova's birth but still looked very pale, thin, and weak.
"Keep him safe," she said as she laid the warm, soft bundle in my arms. Vova stirred slightly but didn't awaken. "I give him to you, Bonnie. I know that you will be a good mother to him. Raise him to be a proper Grand Duke."
"I will." Suddenly there was a lump in my throat. Vova had awakened but wasn't crying. I looked into his clear blue Romanov eyes and suddenly felt an overwhelming love for this tiny, helpless creature who'd just been entrusted to me.
With tear-filled eyes, Mathilde bent to kiss the soft forehead, then turned to allow Sergei to take her arm. In his eyes, I saw the love for her that I hadn't seen in Nicholas'. I wondered whether they'd share a future together, have children of their own someday. For Mathilde's sake, I hoped that they would.
