He holds my hips, keeping me there, as if he’s claiming every part of me with his gaze, his touch, his body. And I feel it, the delicious tension, the mounting climax.
“Now! I’m coming now!” My body shakes, my vision blurs, but all I can feel, all I can know in that moment, is him.
∞∞∞
Lying side by side on the bed, our faces nearly touching, a silence envelops us. It’s a silence that’s not empty but full – full of a comfort and understanding that words often fail to capture.
Our breaths sync up as if our bodies inherently know how to fall in rhythm with each other.
His eyes bore into mine, and the emotion I glimpse there almost shatters me. There’s a deep-rooted sorrow, a concealed agony that even his captivating blue eyes can’t fully hide.
A lump forms in my throat as I softly hum the lyrics to a song that feels almost too fitting.
“No one knows what it’s like…
to be a bad man…
to be a sad man…behind blue eyes.”
My eyes well up, betraying my attempts to keep emotions at bay.
Pregnancy hormones again, amplifying every freaking feeling.
Summoning the courage to touch his face, my fingers trace the contours of his skin with a gentle reverence.
He breaks the silence, voice hushed but laden with emotion. “Ya tebya lyublyu, moya koroleva.”
I pause, processing the Russian words that I’ve heard but not fully understood. “Ya tebya lyublyu” – that much I know means “I love you.” But the rest,“moya koroleva,” eludes me.
“Wait -You- you love me?” My voice wavers.
“Yes,moya koroleva,” he replies, his voice imbued with an indefinable emotion.
At that moment, the dam breaks. Tears burst forth like a geyser, refusing to be contained any longer. “What does ‘moya koroleva’ mean?” I manage to stammer out between sobs.
“My queen,” he says simply.
“Thank- thank you,” I choke out, my voice tinged with emotion.
“Ya tebya lyublyu, moya koroleva,” he says it again.
“Luka, I… I love you, too.” Saying the words out loud doesn’t just make them real; it makes them a living part of me, so intrinsic that the feeling aches deep within my bones.
In a seamless motion, I draw nearer to him, my arms encircling his strong frame tightly. I hold him as if my very embrace could transmit my emotions, my inner serenity, directly into his soul. My head finds its natural resting place on his chest, each beat of his heart echoing like the sweetest melody in my ears.
Eventually, I withdraw just enough to meet his gaze, my hands lingering on his shoulders. “I know you’re taking your time…about what happened.” My voice wavers, tears threatening to spill over again.
Fuck!If this emotional waterfall keeps up for the next six months, I’ll turn into a human raisin.
A snort escapes me – probably the most unladylike sound I could make—and surprisingly, Luka laughs. But still, there’s that layer of sadness lurking in his blue eyes.
“The truth is…I never imagined I would feel this…anguish,” he confesses, his voice replete with an undertone of disbelieving sorrow. “I was bred for vengeance, schooled for Bratva justice. I was taught that a leader, apakhan, dispenses retribution without flinching, without remorse.” His words resonate like a haunting melody within me, piercing the core of my being. My heart splinters for him, fragmenting under the sheer weight of his admission.
“But the truth was, I killed my own uncle, my mother’s brother.”
My heart just breaks more, hearing the sadness and regret in his voice.
“Luka, you’re not just the bad things you’ve done,” I say softly, my voice shaking. “You’re more than just the rules and revenge stuff you’ve grown up with. You’re an incredible brother to Yulia; the love and protection you offer her says volumes about the kind of man you are.”
