“I killed my brother,” he says eventually. His voice is quiet and matter-of-fact, like he’s trying the words out to see how they sound.
“I know,” I respond softly because it’s true, he did, and he needs to hear it.
The muscles in his powerful back ripple as he tries to figure out what to say next. “It was the right thing to do.”
I nod, never ceasing stroking his hair. “It was,” I agree.
“It was the only thing I could do,” he continues.
“Yes.”
“But it still hurts.”
“It does,” I agree and my hand moves to his face, tracing the line of his jaw. “It always will and that’s okay. It’ssupposedto hurt.”
He turns his head to look at me and his gray eyes are devastated in a way I’ve never seen before.
“How do you live with this?” he asks desperately and my heart breaks to see the torture on his face. “How do you move forward when you’ve done something like this?”
“Together,” I tell him, stroking the roughness of his cheek. “We live with it together. We carry it together. You don’t have to do this alone.”
His hand comes up to cover mine on his face and a thousand emotions cross his face. “I don’t deserve you,” he says hoarsely.
“Yes you do.” I lean down and kiss him softly. “You deserve everything good and all the happiness in the world. After all this darkness, you deserve light.”
His expression shifts and the devastation doesn’t disappear but it’s joined by something else. Need. Hunger. The desperate desire to feel something other than grief. He kisses me back harder, rolling us so I’m beneath him. His hands are on my face, in my hair, mapping my body like he’s trying to memorize every inch.
“I need you,” he breathes against my mouth. “I need to feel something other than?—”
“I know,” I interrupt, already pulling at his shirt. “I know. I’m here. I’m right here.”
We shed our clothes and then he’s covering my body with his and it feels like coming home. His weight is solid above me, his skin warm against mine, and I wrap my legs around his waist to pull him closer. Ineedhim closer.
His forehead presses against mine, gray eyes locked on brown, and for a moment we just breathe together. His hand comes up to cup my face, thumb tracing my cheekbone with such tenderness it makes my chest ache.
“I love you,” he whispers. “I love you so much it scares the shit out of me.”
“Well we can change that.” I turn my head to kiss his palm. “Love me instead.”
He smiles and the sight is so beautiful it takes my breath away. “Always.”
He lines the head of his cock up with my entrance and sinks into me, his eyes never leaving mine. There’s no darkness, manipulation or possession born of insecurity. Instead, there's a simple, beautiful truth. “I love you, Vera and I choose you for all time.”
“I choose you too,” I gasp, arching into him as he fills me completely. My hands slide up his back, over his shoulders, feeling every shift of muscle as he moves. “Always. Forever. I choose you, Dimitri.”
God, I’ll never get sick of how overwhelmingly full I feel every time his hips meet mine. His mouth finds my neck, kissing and tasting, marking me in ways that will fade but that I’ll feel for days. His hands are everywhere—tangled in my hair, cupping my face, and sliding down my sides to grip my hips.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin, one of his hands teasing my nipples and plucking at the strawberry pink buds which force me to cry out. “You’re so beautiful. How did I get so lucky?”
“We both got lucky,” I manage, my nails digging into his back as pleasure builds. He groans at the sensation and it’s the most satisfying sound I’ve ever heard.
His hips snap into mine leisurely as Dimitri sets the pace. One of his hands slides down to where we’re joined and he plays with my clit. I cry out at the added sensation, unable to help myself and he captures the sound with his mouth, kissing me deeply, swallowing every gasp and moan.
“I love you,” he says again and again. “I love you. I love you. God, Vera, I love you.”
“I love you too,” I manage between gasps and kisses. “God, Dimitri, I love you so much. So,somuch.”
With one more particularly deep thrust, I come apart. My breath stutters through my orgasm, one hand gripping Dimitri’s bicep for dear life. Dimitri’s strokes get shallower as he too reaches his climax. With a loud grunt, he spills inside me, his whole body shaking before he collapses on top of me, his forehead pressed to my sternum. I run my hands down his slick back, trying to catch my breath.
