Anastasia 1997 Dimitri Novels & Stories

Damien never used to ask about Anastasia, yet today, he referred to her as his "wife." “Madam left early this morning. She didn’t mention where she was headed,” Mrs. Luna replied. Damien glanced at the breakfast table and sat down, lost in thought for a moment. After pondering for a bit, he picked up his phone and dialed a number. “Where is my wife?” Moments later, he discovered that Anastasia was at the A&A Fashion House office. She had been called in early after the videos of her performance from the day before had gone viral.

What started as an innocent action to wipe a thread of cheese from her lips turned to something else when his skin made contact with hers. Dimitri sighed and picked up his phone, staring at her name. She was one of the first numbers at the top. It was easy. He could call, invite her. “You can’t be doing this Dimitri.” “Hm?” Vienna stirred. “Nothing, princess, go back to sleep.” He threw his phone behind him and flopped back unto the sofa. He wasn't twenty-eight anymore. He had done this before, and he wouldn't see himself go through it again. Ayesha was his friend, and there were a million and ten reasons she should remain that way.

I desire him. I slowly raise my hands, wrapping them around his neck. I let his tongue dance in my mouth. Dimitrio smells and tastes like peach. Sweet and intoxicating. I want more of him. He digs his fingers into my ass, and I moan softly. Dimitrio pulls away from me,breathless. My cheeks burn in embarrassment. He steps back and straightens his suit. “What are you doing?” I ask. “Heading back to the party.” What the hell?

Dimitri Volkov walked through the cathedral like he was walking through his own home. His footsteps echoed off ancient stone. Federal agents positioned themselves at every exit, hands resting on weapons. Victoria stood behind him like a ghost, her face a blank slate that revealed nothing. Anastasia's entire body went rigid. "You haven't aged a day," Dimitri said to her. His voice was soft, which made it more dangerous. "Still beautiful. Still defiant. Still mine." "I was never yours, Dimitri," Anastasia said. Her voice was steady, but her hands were trembling. "I stopped belonging to you the moment I held my daughter."