"Vadim," she gasps as her movements become erratic. "Oh God…"
"Let go," I tell her, one hand sliding between us to find her clit. "I've got you."
The moment I touch her there, she comes apart, her body clamping down on me and making me shudder. She buries her face in my neck to muffle her cries and I hold her through it, my fingers still working her sensitive flesh to draw out every last tremor.
When she finally stills, panting against my shoulder, I'm so close to my own release, it's painful. I pull her down hard as I thrust up one final time and let go. I bury my face in her neck and groan her name, my hands gripping her hips as I empty myself inside her. The climax is so strong it makes me twitch for a solid minute, and I never want to pull out.
Danica relaxes on my body, and my dick starts to go limp. But nothing will ever change the fact that I have claimed her and she is mine.
I am in love. And a man in love will do rash things to keep what he loves.
22
DANICA
The rag drags across the last table in my section, leaving streaks across it, and I glance at the clock above the kitchen pass. It's seven forty. My feet ache because I've been standing too long, and the smell of fried onions has soaked into my hair and clothes. I am just ready to be done with today's day shift, thankful it's not eleven p.m. like normal.
Petr sits in a booth near the back of the room where he usually sits, though he's been MIA recently. He's reading a newspaper and there's a cup of coffee steaming in front of him. It's the first time in weeks I've seen him here. My stomach does a small flip, but it settles quickly. He's just another customer now after that day Zoran threatened him, though somehow, there's still a hint of threat in the air every time I'm around him.
Mina passes by with a pot of coffee and I catch her arm. "Can you handle table seven?"
She glances toward Petr's booth, then back at me, and her eyes are narrowed in understanding. "Sure." I only have twenty minutes left in my shift anyway, and given my history with theman, I'd rather not have to deal with that right before I walk home.
Mina adjusts her apron and walks over to him, and Petr looks up once while she's refilling his cup, his eyes finding me across the diner. I meet his gaze for a second, then turn back to my cleaning. When I look again, he's returned to his newspaper and his coffee cup is full.
I'm not sure why he's always had a fascination with me. Mina is a good-looking woman too, though slightly older, and there is one teen girl who works odd shifts and covers for Mina and me at times. But Petr has never seemed interested in either of them. Only me.
I hang my apron in the back to let it dry after I splashed dishwater on it earlier. Then I collect my purse and keys from my locker and head toward the front of the diner. I can't wait to get home early for once and have a hot shower. Maybe Vadim will be awake. He knows I'm getting off early, and he offered to come meet me and walk me home, but my eight p.m. shift became a seven-forty-five shift when my tables cleared out early. There's no sense in his coming all this way to walk me.
"Have a good night," Mina calls from the counter where she's refilling salt shakers.
"You too. Don't let the teenagers camp out all night." I nod at the table full of teens who filed in here a short time ago, and Mina snickers.
"I'll kick them out in an hour."
Zoran grunts something from the kitchen as I push through the front door and out into the evening air. It's not as pleasant as last week when Vadim and I had that stroll on the beach in Ada, butsummer's warmth is always better than the harsh chill of winter. The sun is already dipping low in the sky and in less than an hour, it could be dark out.
So I head toward home lugging my heavy purse on my shoulder as I go. The streets are familiar to me now, as much so as the path I used to take to my house. And though Vadim's place is slightly farther away, it's in a better neighborhood, which means I feel safer most nights.
Vadim is probably keeping dinner warm for me, maybe having a drink of rakija or a sip of vodka—he likes both for different occasions. And maybe he's reading that book on the strategy of war that he likes to read in the evenings lately. Thinking of coming home to him used to make me drag my feet and procrastinate, but now I find myself wanting to hurry home. I've considered asking the boss to switch my shifts to daytime, though I'd miss seeing Mina so often, but I'd get to see my husband more.
It brings a smile to my face and a warm feeling to my chest. I haven't told Vadim at all, but the idea of leaving Serbia doesn’t frighten me as much as it used to. After dealing with Marko, I'm ready to be free from living in fear. And Vadim took care of that problem, so I know it can't hunt me down somewhere else.
When he asked me to move to Russia with him, I wasn't sure, though it showed me his true intention. He isn't just in this to control me anymore or use me for a right to stay here in Serbia. Vadim cares about me more than he's able to articulate, and I feel the same way. The idea of his leaving to return to Russia makes me feel sad. I've grown attached to the security and stability he provides for me, and the way he cares for me too.
Coming home to someone changes everything. It makes evenings better and night time more bearable. And yes, I nag Vadim for leaving his dirty clothes on the bathroom floor and the way he squeezes the toothpaste in the center of the tube, but if I didn't have those things, life would be boring, and I would be alone. A perfect man doesn't exist, but a good one does. I don't want to be naive enough to think that I'd ever be able to find someone half as good as him.
I'm so lost in thought about Vadim that I never hear the footsteps come up behind me. It's been weeks since I feared someone following me home, and no one knows where I live now anyway because I've moved in with Vadim, but when I feel the angry pressure of a hand clamping over my mouth, my chest instantly tightens with panic.
"Finally… we're alone," I hear, and the stench of breath mixed with the tone of voice makes me shudder. It's Petr, and he's right. We're alone.
I lash out and swing my arms, dropping my purse and kicking a foot at his knees, but he drags me between the houses where the houses create a shadowy place. He's so powerful, I don’t have any choice but to go where he takes me.
I'm screaming into his palm, writhing around like a fish out of water as he pins me to the garage, and I realize I'm staring up at Vadim's backyard. The fence is closed, but that's where we're at and Petr doesn’t even know it.
The very instant he lets go of my mouth, I scream, "Vadim!" and then his hand is on my throat, choking me, blocking the air from reaching my lungs though I'm desperately trying to suck in a breath.
"Shut up. Now…" Petr's teeth are stained from too many years of drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. His beard has bread crumbs in it and a bit of fuzz.
