I take her hard and fast, all the fear and fury of the night channeling into something primal. She meets me thrust for thrust, her nails raking down my back, her voice breaking on my name.
"Misha—God—don't stop—"
I couldn't stop if I wanted to. The pressure is building at the base of my spine, my muscles coiling tighter with everystroke. She's close too—I can feel it in the way her walls flutter around me, the way her breath comes in sharp, desperate gasps.
"Come for me," I growl against her ear. "Let go. I've got you."
She shatters with a cry, her body convulsing, her nails digging into my shoulders. The sight of her—the sound of her—pushes me over the edge.
I come with a groan, spilling inside her, my hips jerking as the pleasure crashes through me in waves.
We collapse together, sweating and gasping, still joined. Her legs are trembling around my waist. My arms are shaking from holding myself up.
"That was—" She laughs, breathless. "That was not what I expected when you walked in."
"Disappointed?"
"Definitely not." She pulls my face down for a soft, lingering kiss. "But you should probably get back to the command center before Alexei sends a search party."
She's right. I know she's right. But I can't make myself move yet.
"Give me one more minute," I say, resting my forehead against hers. "Just one more minute of this."
She smiles and holds me tighter.
***
When I return to the command center, Alexei gives me a knowing look but says nothing. The feeds are quiet—Sergei's forces still holding their positions, waiting for something.
"Any movement?" I ask.
"Nothing significant. They're regrouping, probably planning their next push." He pauses. "You were gone longer than expected."
"I had things to discuss with her."
"I'm sure you did."
I ignore the implication in his voice and turn to the tactical display. The monitors glow with camera feeds, guard positions, threat assessments. The war is still coming. The danger is still real.
But for the first time all night, I feel like I can face it.
Because whatever happens—whether we survive this assault or fall to Sergei's forces—I know what I'm fighting for. Not just territory or power or family legacy.
Her. I'm fighting for her.
And that makes all the difference.
Chapter 19 - Bianca
I wake to the sound of his heartbeat.
For a moment, I don't remember where I am. The room is unfamiliar—darker than the guest room, the furniture heavier, the curtains drawn against the gray morning light. Then I feel the warmth of his body against my back, his arm draped over my waist, and everything comes flooding back.
Being carried up the stairs.
His room. His bed.
I lie still, not wanting to break the spell. His breathing is deep and even against my hair, but there's tension in the arm that holds me—he's awake. Has been for a while, probably. Listening to every sound, cataloging every potential threat.
