The second the lock clicks, the door bursts open, and a streak of golden-brown fur rockets past my leg like a missile. King hits Lily with his full weight, sending her stumbling back onto the porch with a squeal.
“King!” she squeals, laughter breaking free as he bowls her over, tail a blur, covering her face in sloppy kisses.
“King, baby. I missed you so much, baby,” she coos through giggles, grabbing hold of him as she drops to her knees. Her arms wrap tight around his neck, her curls falling forward, and she presses her face against his fur like he’s the only thing in the world that matters.
King whines happily, paws on her shoulders, and then—after a moment—twists around, bounding straight for me. He rams his whole body against my legs, rubbing back and forth, leaving streaks of fur on my pants, before bolting back to her again.
I watch them—the two of them rolling together in the golden light spilling from the house, their laughter and barking tangled together—and something inside me goes very still. Perfect.That’s what this is. Her smile, the dog, this house, the life I bled to build so I could give it to her.
Lily glances back at me over her shoulder, breathless and glowing, King’s big head cradled against her chest.
And I think, with absolute certainty,this is it. This is everything.
22
ALEKSANDR
Three MonthsLater
The moment I step through the front door, I know something is wrong.
The house greets me with silence—a house that is never silent. Sunlight spills across walls painted in every color Lily ever dreamed of, a kaleidoscope of rooms she claimed one by one. What was once just a sprawling yellow estate—five bedrooms, three and a half baths, chestnut wood gleaming under gold accents, surrounded by twenty-five acres of forest—has long since become hers.
The day she came home, I brought her to this house—the one with the towering, carved Beauty-and-the-Beast-style bookcase already waiting. I handed her my Black Card, told her to fill it with whatever furniture she wanted. Instead, she came back with three hundred and forty-two books. And somehow, that wasn’t enough. Now, every single room has its own stack, its own shelf, and a bookcase being delivered in the next two days to be put together by me.
“Lily,” I call, hanging my keys on the hook.
I look up the stairs, my eyes landing on the note taped to the staircase railing, written in Lily’s loopy handwriting:”Come and find me.”My heart skips a beat, and I can already feel the heat pooling in my groin. She’s playing one of her games again. Good.
I rip the note down, my fingers brushing over the paper as if I can feel her essence lingering on it. My boots thud against the hardwood floor as I move deeper into the house, my senses sharpening. The faint scent of her perfume—something floral and sweet—hangs in the air, guiding me.
In the living room, I spot her scarf draped over the arm of the couch, a soft, silky thing that I’ve seen her wrap around herself on cool evenings. I grab it, bringing it to my nose. Her scent is stronger here, intoxicating. My cock twitches in response, growing harder with every breath I take.
The next clue is strung about the hallway leading to our backdoor. Her blouse is hanging from the pantry doorknob, the fabric still warm from her body. I run my fingers over it, imagining her slipping it off, her skin glowing in the soft light of our room. The image makes me groan low in my throat. She’s teasing me, and it’s working.
“Lily,” I call out, my voice rough with desire. “You’re making this too easy.”
There’s no answer, but I don’t need one. I can feel her presence like a magnet pulling me forward. I follow the trail she’s left for me, piece by piece: her bra dangling from the kitchen counter stools, her skirt carelessly tossed on the stove. Each item is a breadcrumb leading me closer to her.
The back door is slightly ajar, and I step outside, the cool night air brushing against my skin. The woods behind our house are dark and quiet, but I can sense her there, waiting for me. I move quickly, my eyes scanning the ground for more signs of her.
Her panties are tied to a low-hanging branch, fluttering in the breeze like a flag. I snatch them up, pressing them to my face. Fuck. She’s left nothing to the imagination now. My cock is fully hard, straining against my jeans as I push deeper into the woods.
And then I see her.
She’s standing in a small clearing, bathed in moonlight. Her body is bare, her skin glowing like alabaster. Her hands are behind her back, her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. Her nipples are taut, begging for my attention. My mouth waters at the sight of her, and I can’t help but let out a low growl.
“Found you,” I say, my voice thick with lust.
She smiles, a wicked little smirk that sends a jolt of electricity straight to my cock. “Took you long enough,” she teases, her voice soft but laced with challenge.
I step closer, my eyes never leaving hers. “You’re going to pay for teasing me like this.”
Her breath hitches as I close the distance between us. My hands find her waist, pulling her against me. She’s warm, so fucking warm, and she melts into my touch like she was made for me. I lean down, my lips brushing against her ear.
“You’re mine,” I whisper, my voice low and possessive.
She shivers in my arms, her body trembling with anticipation. “Prove it,” she dares, her voice barely above a whisper.
