His rhythm changes, becoming more insistent. One hand cradles the back of my head, protecting me even now from the headboard. The other grips my hip, angling me to take him deeper.
I’m lost in the feel of him, in the mounting pressure that threatens to consume me.
Our pace quickens as passion builds. Each snap of Alexei’s hips drives him farther inside me, chasing our shared climax.
“Aurora.” He breathes my name against my skin, over and over. “My sweet Aurora.”
His claiming pushes me over the edge. “Yes,” I moan. “Yours. ”
The climax hits with unexpected force, crashing through every barrier I’ve ever constructed. I cry out, clinging to him like he’s the only solid thing in a world that’s suddenly liquid. Seconds later, he follows me, his body tensing above mine, my name torn from his chest.
In the aftermath, we lie tangled together, breathless and stunned.
I’ve had sex before but never like this. This was more than just fucking. This was being unmade and remade in the same moment. The sensation of complete exposure and absolute safety.
Whatever this unlikely, impossible connection between us is, it feels far more dangerous than any weapon or threat.
And far more precious than I ever expected.
Chapter 40
Aurora
I nestle my head on Alexei’s chest, counting his heartbeats as they slow. My own pulse finally settles into a normal rate.
Though I’m not sure “normal” is a concept that applies to anything about this situation.
The sweat-dampened sheets beneath us weave around our legs like vines. Alexei skims his hands up and down my spine in lazy circles, each pass leaving goosebumps in its wake. The silence between us is comfortable. Peaceful, even. Nothing like the tense, charged silences we’ve shared in the past.
I never expected this. Never expectedhim.
Since Roman announced our accelerated timeline, I’ve been bracing for the wedding night from hell. At best, I thought it would be awkward. At worst, a cold and mechanical transaction to seal our bargain. Instead…I don’t even have the words.
We shared more than just sex.
We made love.
Alexei’s fingers find their way into my hair and stroke my scalp. The tenderness of the gesture strains my throat. This is the man who threatened to kill me in an alley. The man who abducted me, murdered a man in front of me, and forced meinto marriage for his own purposes. And yet, he’s touched me with more gentleness than anyone else ever has.
A shiver runs through me as the sweat cools on my skin.
Before I can reach for the tangled sheets to cover myself, Alexei sits up and scoops me into his arms again as if I weigh nothing at all.
I release a startled squeak and circle my arms around his neck for balance.
“What are you doing?” The question comes out breathy and uncertain.
He rises and carries me toward the door, both of us still buck naked. The gesture should feel absurd. We’re not in a movie or some romance novel where the hero sweeps the heroine off to his room. We’re two real, complicated people who?—
“We’re not sleeping here.” He pushes through the doorway with his shoulder, still cradling me against his chest.
“We’re not?” I’m trying to process what’s happening as he walks us through the loft toward what I know is his room. His sanctuary. The place I’ve never been invited to enter.
“No.” His refusal brooks no argument. “You’re my wife now. We sleep together.”
The possessiveness in his tone sends a complicated tremor through me. This claim of ownership should feel threatening. It should prompt me to pull away and establish boundaries. To remind him that a marriage certificate doesn’t grant him any real rights to me. But I simply tighten my arms around his neck and press closer.
His bedroom door is ajar, as if he planned for this eventuality all along. Since I haven’t spent much time in here, I forgot how large the space is.
