The curtains flutter with the breeze, and moonlight dances over the sheets.
Miko closes the door behind us, locking out the world, and when he looks at me—when he touches me—it’s so much more than it used to be.
It’s still careful, reverent, like he knows I’m still learning how to be whole. I am.
But I’m getting there.
And in the safety of his arms, I trust that what we share is something all the more sacred for it.
His hands are warm as he helps me out of my robe.
His mouth finds mine in a kiss that steals the breath from my lungs.
I am not afraid. Not of him. Not anymore.
In truth, I don’t know how I ever was.
What a difference a year can make.
After spending two consecutive years married to two such different men, I couldn’t have a better comparison.
With Pyotr, every day felt like an eternity, a constant battle between fear and revulsion, where survival was the only prize.
With Miko, this year has flown by in the blink of an eye.
He’s shown me that patience and kindness can heal even the deepest wounds with time.
He’s blessed me with the most beautiful treasure this world has ever known.
And if I thought he was a loving husband, I’m constantly in awe of what an incredible father he’s become.
Pyotr feels like little more than a distant memory to me now, a villain from a past life, or even a childhood storybook.
And even on the rare occasion when the nightmares still come—when I bolt upright in bed with tears in my eyes and Pyotr’s voice in my ears—Miko is always there to hold me close and whisper truths over the lies.
He tells me I’m safe. That I’m loved.
And I believe him.
Because I am. With him. Forever.
“Tell me,topolina,” he says, his lips soft against my throat. “What’s on your mind tonight?”
“I was just thinking about my perfect husband,” I tease lightly, leaning back to meet his eyes as I comb my fingers into his thick, dark curls.
Miko snarls, his eyes sparkling with playful warning. “You better be referring to me,” he says. “Unless there’s some man out there I need to pay a visit.”
Laughter bubbles up from me at his threat, because even if he were capable of killing a man just for stealing my attention, I know it would never happen. “Fortunately for all the other husbands in the world, Iwasreferring to you.”
Letting my hands trail down the curve of his neck and across his broad chest, I slowly make my way down to the hem of his shirt.
He lifts his arms as I drag the soft fabric up the rippling muscles of his abdomen then shoulders before tugging it over his head.
His skin is soft and warm against my breasts, his lips scintillating as they find my throat once again, and a sultry purr rumbles from his chest as I reach down to unbutton his pants.
He watches with smoldering desire as I drag them down his hips and thighs, crouching so I’m at the perfect height as his thick length springs free, its silky tip brushing against my lips.
Grasping the base of it, I look up at him through my lashes, giving him a wicked smile. Then I run my tongue along its length before swirling the tip.
