Then he’s kissing me again, slower this time, deeper.
His hands map my body with reverent touches that make my heart ache.
When he finally enters me, it’s with a gentleness that brings tears to my eyes.
We move together in the firelight, our bodies finding a rhythm that feels inevitable.
This isn’t the rough, punishing sex of before.
This is something else. Something that terrifies me more than any violence could.
“Look at me,” he commands softly, and I open my eyes to find him watching me with an intensity that steals my breath. “I want to see you when you come.”
His hand slides between us, finding my clit, and the dual sensation pushes me over the edge.
I cry out his name as pleasure crashes through me, my inner walls clenching around him.
He follows moments later, burying his face in my neck as he finds his release. We stay locked together, breathing hard, neither of us willing to break the connection.
Finally, he rolls to his side and pulls me against his chest. I should move away.
Should put distance between us.
But I’m exhausted, emotionally and physically, and his warmth is too comforting to resist.
“I need to show you something,” he says after a long silence.
I lift my head to look at him. “What?”
“Come with me.” He stands and pulls on his pants, then offers me his hand.
Curiosity overrides my caution.
I slip on his discarded shirt, the hem brushing my mid-thigh, and take his hand.
He leads me out of the bedroom and down the hall to a door I’ve never seen open.
“This is my private study,” he says, producing a key. “No one comes in here. Not even Elena.”
The door swings open to reveal a room that takes my breath away. Every wall is covered with photographs. And they’re all of the same girl.
Nicole.
I move closer, studying the images.
Nicole as a baby, held by a much younger Mikhail.
Nicole on her first day of school, gap-toothed and grinning.
Nicole at her sweet sixteen party, beautiful in a blue dress that matches her eyes.
“She wanted to be a doctor,” Mikhail says quietly behind me. “She was so smart. Top of her class. She had this way of seeing the good in everyone, even people who didn’t deserve it.”
I turn to look at him. He blinks back tears, but a few still track down his face. It’s the first time I’ve seen him cry, and it breaks something inside me.
“She sounds amazing,” I whisper.
“She was.” He moves to a desk in the corner and picks up a framed photo. “This was taken two weeks before she died. She didn’t know she was pregnant yet. Didn’t know what those monsters had done to her would destroy her life.”
