Heat rushes through me so fast it makes my knees weak.
“And I’m yours,” he adds, voice husky, almost a whisper.
Before I can breathe, he kisses me. I melt into him, responding with an immediate, fervent need that surprises us both. My hands fist in the collar of his suit jacket, dragging him down, my mouth opening for him without thought. He groans softly against my lips, the sound vibrating deep in my chest, as his hands slide up my sides, over my ribcage, charting the curves, claiming me with mapping precision. It feels nothing like the calculated ownership of his world and everything like elemental, consuming need.
He lifts me effortlessly, one hand shifting to the small of my back while the other grips my thigh, and my legs instinctively wrap high around his waist. My back hits the nearest wall—the hard, ornate plaster a sharp contrast to the heat of his mouth and body. His breath is hot and labored against my throat as he pulls back just enough to speak.
"You’re so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice thick.
I tilt my head back instead, offering my throat to him, and his mouth trails down my neck, slow and hungry, his teeth scraping the skin right over my collarbone, sending a shockwave through me. I feel it everywhere, in every nerve, every pulse point, every inch of skin that suddenly feels too sensitive and exposed.
He carries me to the bed without breaking the kiss, his strength absolute, and lays me down with a gentleness that doesn’t match the fire blazing in his eyes, then leans over me, bracing his armson either side of my head. He is breathing hard, looking at me like I’m the only thing he’s ever truly wanted to consume.
"Kira," he whispers, his forehead pressing to mine, his dark lashes brushing my brow. "I need you.”
My breath catches, sharp and shallow. He lowers his mouth to mine again, pulling the first wave of heat down into a deep, consuming kiss. The world blurs into the velvet darkness of the room.
His hands find the hem of my shirt and pull it up over my head, followed quickly by the snap and whisper of my jeans zipper. He works quickly but not impatiently, tearing through the last barrier of clothes.
He positions himself over me, his weight heavy and perfect, anchoring me to the bed. I open my legs, inviting the inevitable, pulling him down until our bare skin meets. The friction is instantaneous, searing, and undeniable.
He enters me slowly, giving my body time to adjust to the deep invasion, and the effort of holding back makes the muscles in his arms stand out, rigid under my hands. I gasp, arching up to meet him, needing the pressure, needing the final claim.
“Nothing else exists,” he pauses, eyes locked on mine, demanding witness, " every damn time you look at me."
Then, the last thread of restraint snaps.
He begins to move in a powerful, measured rhythm that quickly descends into desperate, raw speed. His tongue finds my ear, his voice low and ragged. "Keep your eyes open. I want to see you. I want you to come for me."
His pace accelerates sharply, pushing me over the precipice, and the pleasure sears through me, white-hot and absolute. I cry out, the sound swallowed by the pillow beneath my head, my back bowing off the mattress as the raw, spiraling waves of release hit, violently shaking my entire frame.
He doesn't slow down; he uses my surrender, driving into the core of the quake, his low growl turning into a primal shout against my skin, the muscles in his neck standing out in sharp relief as he finally gives himself over to the desperate, final spasm of his own climax.
He collapses onto me, heavy and spent, his body trembling, burying his face in the damp curve of my neck. Everything fades into heat and soft darkness, leaving only the sound of our bodies colliding, our harsh, shared breaths, and the singular, shattering feeling of being claimed.
And I can no longer deny that I love him too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Kira
Two days pass in this strange bubble where everything feels quieter than it should. Artyom works when he has to, disappearing into calls and meetings with that intense focus he switches on like a weapon, and when he’s done, he finds me wherever I am—on the couch, in his kitchen, sitting with Calina and Milana—pulling me into whatever he’s doing as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
We don’t fight. We don’t talk about the attack or the wedding or anything heavy. We just… exist around each other, closer than before, the tension still there but settled into something warmer, something that somehow makes it harder to breathe.
By the second evening, I can’t lie to myself anymore. I miss work. I miss the routine. I miss not thinking about danger every minute of the day, and even though Artyom doesn’t say anything, I can tell he knows I’m restless, so when I tell himI’m going back in the morning, he only studies me for a second before nodding, like he was waiting for me to say it.
Now it’s my first day back, and it feels strangely grounding to slip into scrubs again and step outside on my own. But the calm lasts only a few minutes, because halfway down the block I glance over my shoulder and see an SUV behind me, slow and steady, keeping the same distance every time I turn a corner.
It’s not the one Artyom showed me. It’s a different make, different feel.
A cold rush moves through my stomach. Maybe it’s nothing, maybe it’s someone who happens to be going the same way, maybe I’m paranoid after everything that’s happened, but my body reacts instantly, my steps speed up, my hands feel tight, and I keep my head forward so whoever’s inside can’t see my face.
By the time I push through the hospital doors, my pulse is too fast, and the familiar smell of disinfectant hits me like a wave of relief. The noise, the people, the fluorescent lights—none of it ever felt comforting before, but right now it does.
The moment I step inside, I spot Lilly down the hall, flipping through a chart with her usual annoyed concentration. She looks up, sees me, and her whole expression brightens in that immediate, genuine way only she can manage.
“Oh my God,” she says the second she spots me, her eyes going wide as she practically speed-walks down the hall, “you’re finally back.”
