“Careful,” I whisper when his wince betrays the pull of his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be healing.”
He gives a rough laugh. “You make that hard.”
“Good,.”
His movements grow more deliberate, hungrier. He pushes me gently back against the bed. His hands frame my face before sliding down my sides.
He settles between my legs, his gaze fixed on mine. I can see everything in it: exhaustion, regret. But most of all, desire.
It’s such a rare thing for us—taking our time. Exploring without rush. Usually, we’re too fired up to slow down like this. To uncover each corner, kiss every inch without that burning hunger coiled tight inside us.
But soon, the hunger comes anyway. It’s inevitable. With Petyr’s body on top of mine, I will always feel like I’m starving.
Finally naked, he parts my thighs and rocks his hips forward.
I gasp softly. My fingers clutch at his back, away from his wound, past his shoulder blades. The head brushes between my folds, finds me wet and wanting.
He presses deeper, slow and steady. I feel every inch of him stretching me. As he drives into me, Petyr’s eyes never leave mine.
I reach up and tangle my fingers in his hair. My heart swells with the rush of love and relief. For the first time since the night began, it feels like we’re both still here.
Still alive.
Still each other’s.
The pace picks up, slow but sure. His rhythm deepens, and the warmth between us builds until it feels like everything else in the world fades out.
The sound of our breathing fills the space. The sheets shift beneath us as he moves, steady, deliberate. His thrusts pull soft sounds from my lips. Every breath feels heavier, closer.
I feel full in every way. So completely, utterly full of him. My body aches for him, but so does my heart. Right now, I’m not sure which one is pulsing louder.
“I love you,” I whisper.
It isn’t planned. It’s just the truth.
His gaze softens, his breath rough in my ear. “Me, too,lisichka. Me too.”
With that, the pressure that’s been building finally snaps. My body tightens around him, and I come quietly, the sound muffled by his mouth as he kisses me through it. It’s never been like this—so intense, yet so gentle.
He keeps moving until he follows me over the edge. I can feel him spill deep inside me. Both of us are breathing hard as we ease back down, our foreheads pressed together, bodies still electric with pleasure.
Then he rolls onto his side and pulls me with him.
His arm wraps around me, and I curl up close to him, ear pressed against his chest. The thud of his heart grounds me.
I close my eyes and breathe him in.
He’s alive. He’s here.
That’s all that matters.
31
PETYR
By morning, the house is quiet again. I leave Sima still asleep, her hair spread across the pillow, and make my way downstairs.
I find Luka in the security room over the garage. Rows of monitors show the property, camera feeds for each room and every inch of perimeter.
