I don’t speak.
I move to the chair in the corner and sit, the springs creaking softly beneath my weight. I switch off the lamp and settle in without taking my eyes off her.
This is how it’s always been.
Watching.
Wanting.
Choosing not to touch despite my body begging for release.
I’m acutely aware of every detail. The rise and fall of her back. The faint shift of her legs when she adjusts for comfort.The tension she’s holding beneath stillness, like she’s waiting for something to happen.
My hands rest loosely on my thighs. My breathing stays even. I let the heat burn itself out slowly, painfully, the way I always have. I imagine the line I refuse cross and hold on to it with the same discipline she used to dance through her pain.
She turns her head slightly, just enough that I know she’s staring at the wall instead of sleeping. Her voice comes soft and uncertain.
“You were watching me in my apartment too, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
She exhales, the sound shaky. “It feels the same. Steady and certain. I really think it should feel disconcerting to know that you must have planted cameras in there. Been in there without me knowing… but I can’t make myself be angry or scared about it.”
“I never intended for you to feel scared. Not of me,” I say in a bid to reassure her. I know she is looking at me, even if she can’t see me clearly in the dark. I can feel the way her gaze reaches me across the room.
Minutes stretch. The tension in the room thickens, quietly charged.
“Do we need to be married first? Is that a Bratva thing?” she asks, her boldness breaking through the dark.
“It would be better that way, so there can be no mistaking legitimacy of the child.” I want to go to her. I want to know what it feels like to lie beside her and have her warm body curled against mine.
“You know I might not be able to conceive though, right?” she asks, her voice breaking a little.
I frown, grateful that she can’t see me clearly.
“What do you mean?” Heat prickles the back of my neck, but the decision is crystal clear in my mind before I even have chance to consider it. If we can’t have children, so be it. I want Emma beside me for the rest of my life, whatever that looks like.
My uncle’s orders will just have to go unfulfilled. I’ll take whatever consequences come my way.
“Ballet conditions my body in such a way that I don’t have enough body fat to menstruate… have a period,” she adds when I don’t say anything. “I’ve never had a proper period.”
“I’m not worried,” I finally say. “I fell in love with you, Emma. The Pakhan’s orders may have sped things up, but ultimately, I chose you and will continue to choose you for the rest of time.”
She shifts again, rolling onto her back, eyes open and reflective in the low light.
I meet her gaze in the darkness and hold it.
“The first time hurts, right?” she asks, voice low and trembling.
“Sometimes,” I say as gently as I can while tamping down the arousal that keeps trying to flare beneath my ribs. “It depends on a few factors.”
“You said you love me,” she whispers. “But you won’t come anywhere near me.”
My eyebrows flicker in surprise. “Emma, you’ve been through a lot today, you deserve rest. All I ask is that I can look at you.”
“But what if I want more?” she asks. “You told me to take control, you told me you brought me here to claim me… I just want to get out of my head, please.”
My cock is throbbing, but I ignore it. I cross the room quietly and pull the sheets away from her. She is wearing a dark T-shirt and a pair of white panties that are clearly visible in the dark room. More so now my eyes are adjusting.
