What?
My heartbeats stumble in my chest.
He leans in until his forehead rests against mine, like he needs the connection just to stay upright. And when his eyes open to meet mine again, the truth in them is so clear, it sends a shiver through me.
“I don’t know what to do with that,” he admits on a sigh, the words almost trembling. “You don’t understand. I’ve never felt anything like this before. I wasn’t allowed to.”
The words crack something inside me. He’s never looked more human than he does right now.
“But you…” he continues. “You’re different. I did not want you to be. I fought it. I tried to control it, control you, but I couldn’t. I can’t. And I accept it now.”
His lips touch the corner of my mouth, a soft, aching brush that loosens something deep inside me even as I try to hold myself together.
“I want you,” he says, the words coming out rough, almost breaking. “I want you with everything I am. I don’t want to lose you.”
He stays close, his breath warm against my lips, and my eyes sting under the weight of what he’s giving me so openly. Then he pulls back just enough to see my face, as if he needs to watch every glimmer of my reaction.
“So please, tell me you want this too.” His next words are barely a whisper. “I don’t know how to do this, Fiona. I wasn’traised to love. I wasn’t built for it. But I will do whatever you need, however you need it. Just…don’t walk away. Teach me.”
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t reconcile this man with the one who once threatened everything I cared about. My gaze drops, completely overwhelmed, and he lifts my chin with gentle fingers, guiding my eyes back to his.
“Look at me, Fiona. I’m yours. I always have been.”
Something inside me slices wide open, and before I can stop myself, I’m already reaching for him, closing the space in a rush of need I can’t contain. I crash my mouth to his with a desperation that feels like stepping off a cliff and somehow surviving the fall.
My hands tangle in his hair, my legs wrapping around his waist while water sloshes around us as he lifts me against him. I don’t want space. I don’t want distance. I want to feel him, all of him, pressed against me like he’s part of my body. Like maybe if I hold on tight enough, he won’t disappear when the sun comes up.
His hands grip my hips, and we kiss like it’s the only language either of us understands. There’s nothing careful about it. It’s fire meeting gasoline. Violent, needy, real.
I’ve spent so long running from this man, hating him, fearing him. But right now, all I want is him holding me like I’m his lifeline.
And maybe, just maybe, he’s mine too.
ALEKSEI
Her laughter bounces off the stone path as I hoist her over my shoulder like she weighs nothing. She squeals, telling me to put her down.
“Net.” My voice rumbles low as I grip the backs of her thighs to keep her steady. “This will teach you to walk away from me.”
I smack her ass hard enough to make her yelp, then she laughs louder. That sound—her laughter, wild and unguarded—has become my favorite thing in this world.
I carry her through the back doors and down the hallway, past a startled Galya who makes a sound of disapproval and mutters something about soaking wet floors. I ignore her. My entire focus is on the woman in my arms as I bring her into a guest bathroom.
She’s still laughing when I kick the door closed behind us and set her down carefully, fingers curling around her waist to keep her close. Her hair is dripping, her hoodie clinging to her in a way that does things to me. She tilts her head up, eyes wide and uncertain, lips parted like she’s trying to understand whatever is happening between us.
I’m not sure either. I have never said anything like that to any other woman. But with her, all I do isfeel.
“Davay,” I say, tugging the soaked hoodie over her head.Come on.“Let’s warm you up.”
Her arms lift, letting me strip her bare. I peel away every piece of fabric. Her breathing stutters, and I can’t tell if it’s the cold or me that has her shaking. She bites her lip, eyes never leaving me as I step out of my sweats and leave them on the tile.
When I turn on the shower, steam begins to fill the space, spiraling upward in soft clouds. She steps under the water without a word, and I follow, the heat closing around us. The water runs over her in steady, warm streams, sliding through her hair and down the curve of her neck. She tilts her head back, eyes drifting shut, and I’m not sure she realizes what that simplemovement does to me, how it pulls something deep inside my chest.
Reaching for the shampoo, I pour a small amount into my palm and guide her to turn away from me. My fingers slip into her hair, spreading the lather slowly, working it through each strand with a kind of patience I have never given anyone in my life.
The warmth of her, the quiet of the water around us, makes me want this moment to last for as long as she will allow it. She releases the softest sound when my fingertips glide across her scalp, and the sound shoots through me. She relaxes back, her head resting against me.
“That feels nice.” Her words drift in a hazy, content sigh.
