The fire crackles and pops, sending shadows dancing across Nikolai's face as we lie tangled together on the thick rug in front of the hearth. A blanket is wrapped around us, but it's his body that keeps me warm. His skin against mine. His fingers tracing lazy patterns along my hip, my ribs, the curve of my breast.
I press my cheek against his chest and listen to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
"Tell me something," I whisper into the comfortable silence.
His fingers pause their exploration. "What do you want to know?"
"Everything." I tilt my head to look up at him. "Do you have siblings?"
"No. Dmitri is the closest thing I have to a brother…” He trails off, his gaze distant. “My mother wanted more children, but there were complications when she had me, and she couldn’t have any more."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. She poured all her love into me instead." A small smile tugs at his lips. "She gave me enough love for five children."
I smile against his skin. "She sounds wonderful."
"She was." His hand resumes its wandering and those masterful fingertips whisper across my collarbone and down to my breasts. "She used to tell me I'd fill this lodge with children someday. Said it was too big and quiet for just one family."
"And do you want that?"
He's quiet for a long moment. "I always thought I'd have a houseful." His thumb brushes across my nipple. "But the opportunity has never presented itself.”
“Why?”
He pauses, and I feel the tension in his body. "I live a thousand lives as a pakhan. I’m pulled in every direction. It hasn’t left much time to make babies. But I know I have a responsibility."
His thumb circles my nipple, and heat pools low in my belly.
“For what?”
"To provide an heir. For the Bratva. For the bloodline. But now I wonder if it's fair. To bring a child into this life. My son would inherit everything I've built. But also, everything I fight. Every enemy. Every burden. That is a lot to burden someone with."
He rolls my nipple between his fingers, and I arch into his touch, my body responding even as my heart aches for him. For the weight he carries. For the future he's not sure he deserves.
"But they would get to experience all the good things in life too," I say softly. “All the simple little pleasures life gives us.”
“Like what?”
"Their first feel of the sun on their face. The lap of a warm ocean against their toes. Snow on their tongue. Sea salt on their lips." I smile. "Meeting their best friend. Experiencing their first kiss. Falling in love for the first time."
"I've never been in love," he admits in the quiet.
"Never?"
"Never."
"I was. Once." The confession slips out. "When I was in college."
Nikolai's fingers stop rubbing my nipple. "Tell me about it."
"We met in art class and bonded over Picasso and Da Vinci and a thousand cups of black coffee from the campus cafe. We were young and free. Eventually we fell in love."
Nikolai frowns. “And what did love feel like?”
I search for the words. "It was giddiness. And butterflies. And counting the minutes until you see them again when you’ve just said goodbye. Everything reminds you of them. And your heart races just hearing their name."
His jaw tightens. "Why does that make me want to hunt him down and kill him?"
