"Can't I be both?"
His mouth captures mine.
This kiss. This slow, deliberate, devastating kiss.
Not desperate, like the window. Not grief-fueled, like before. This is Sergei taking his time. Learning me. Memorizing the taste of me, like he plans to keep it.
His tongue traces my lower lip and I open. Let him in. Let him consume me.
We don't escalate.
Just kiss. Hands exploring over clothes with something closer to reverence than lust. His palm slides under my tank top—his tanktop—fingers splaying across my ribcage. Feeling my heart slam against his touch.
"Tell me more," I breathe against his mouth. I need to know. I need to understand this man I've bound myself to. "About who you were."
"I was empty." He admits between kisses, between soft touches that make me ache. "Violence was all I knew. Kill, collect payment, repeat. No attachments. No weaknesses. The Wolf doesn't have a pack. He hunts alone."
"And now?"
His hand tightens on my ribs. "Now I have a daughter who thinks I hung the moon. An ex-wife who wants to take her away. And a wife who sees more than the monster."
"Sounds complicated."
"Sounds like a life worth protecting."
He rolls me onto my back. His weight settles over me, and I feel every inch of him through our clothes. Hard muscle. Controlled strength. Those grey eyes locked on mine with an intensity that makes breathing optional.
I arch into him. Wrap my legs around his waist. Pull him closer, even though closer is impossible.
"You saved my life," I whisper. "Twice now."
"That's just violence pointed at different targets." His hips rock against mine, and we both groan. "Same monster. New purpose."
"My monster."
Something breaks in his expression. He kisses me like he's drowning and I'm air. His hand slides up my thigh, under the edge of my—his—shorts, and I'm ready to beg, ready to say fuck Mila being down the hall, ready for anything?—
He stops.
Pulls back.
Rests his forehead against mine with his eyes closed.
"We can't." The words sound torn from him. "Not tonight."
"Why?" I'm not above begging at this point.
"Because Mila's down the hall." His eyes open. Storm grey. Filled with want and restraint in equal measure. "Because when I have you again—and I will have you again—I want to hear you scream my name without worrying about waking my daughter."
My entire body is on fire.
"Sergei—"
"Soon." He rolls onto his back, pulling me with him. Tucking me against his side. His arm bands around me, holding me close enough that I can feel his heart still racing. "But tonight we just... be this."
"Be what?"
"Two broken people trying to sleep without nightmares."
