Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
FIONA
Aleksei kneels in front of me, towel in hand. The cotton is soft against my skin, but it’s the way he touches me that steals the air from my lungs. Slow, purposeful, like every part of me matters.
Neither of us speaks. We don’t need to. There’s a silence between us that hums with understanding, like something unspoken has shifted and we both felt it. I watch the movement of his hands as he dries the water from my thighs, my stomach, my arms, taking his time like he’s savoring this.
He helps me slip into a robe and ties it gently, then reaches for a towel and wraps it around his waist. I wonder if he feels the same pull in his chest that I do. If it aches the way mine does when he looks at me.
Tugging on the belt, he drags me up against him, his mouth falling to mine, and it’s not possessive like before. It’s quiet and beautiful, the kind of kiss that rewrites everything you thought you knew. He lifts me into his arms, and I don’t hesitate, curling into him like he’s my home.
We move up the stairs, each step carrying us further into something neither of us can undo.
Once we reach the bedroom, he sets me gently on my feet, his hands sliding to my waist and drawing me in until there is no space left between us. I reach for his towel at the same moment his fingers find the knot of my robe.
The towel slips from his hips first, the fabric falling away with a quiet hush, and he stands there completely bare…but not just his body. He’s letting me see him. All of him. And I don’t want to look away.
As his chest rises, my eyes trace over skin I’ve already memorized: scars, muscle, tension barely leashed beneath the surface. There’s a crackle in his gaze when it meets mine, but he doesn’t rush. He just brushes his fingers against the tie at my waist.
The robe loosens and slips away, pooling softly around my ankles, and his hands settle at my hips while his gaze moves slowly over me, as if he’s cataloging everything he thought he’d never be allowed to keep.
But for the first time, I’m letting him keep it. All of it. Every part I used to hide.
He steps in, closing the gap between us, and when our skin meets, the heat of it sweeps through me in a way that’s almost overwhelming. It’s not rushed or frantic, but something deeper. Something like certainty settling into my bones.
My arms lift around his shoulders, pulling him even closer until there is no distance left between us. Nothing but the thrum of two hearts beating far too hard.
When he kisses me, it’s quiet at first, gathering strength, building into something deeper and far more powerful.
I meet him willingly, because I want to.
Because I trust him. His hand cradles the back of my neck as he takes me backward, his mouth still on mine.
When the backs of my knees hit the bed, he stops, his ragged exhales fanning across my face.
“You feel like home, moya ptichka,” he says against my lips, laying me on the bed without waiting for me to say something back.
I don’t even have the words except that I feel the same, though a part of me is still afraid to say it out loud.
He climbs over me, every line of his body fitting perfectly against mine. He kisses down my jaw and across my collarbone, his hands roaming like he’s staking a claim. His mouth finds the curve of my breast, and I gasp as his tongue circles before his lips close around my nipple.
Pleasure sparks, but beneath it, something warmer catches fire.
Something like need, yet reaching far deeper than anything physical.
It scares me a little, but in a way that feels right, like falling toward something I don’t want to escape.
He kisses his way back up, resting his forehead against mine.
“Ti moya,” he murmurs, voice hoarse.
I cup his face. “Yes. I’m yours.”
The look he gives me in this moment, like I’ve just given him the whole world, burns itself into my chest.
When he pushes inside me, all I feel is him. He lets out a low, rough groan as he braces himself above me, and my legs instinctively curl around his waist, pulling him nearer. We move together in a slow rhythm, neither of us wanting this to end.
There’s nothing between us. Nothing to hide behind anymore. No lies, no walls, no pretending. Only the press of our bodies and the truth neither of us can run from.
His fingers slide between us, circling my clit with just enough pressure until I come apart, his name spilling from my lips. My release hits hard, crashing through me, and he watches every second of it like the sight alone unravels him more than anything else ever could.
A rough growl rumbles out of him as he follows, his face buried in my neck, his hand tangled in my hair like the idea of letting go would split him in half. His warmth shoots through me, filling me, branding me inside and out.
He stays there, still inside me, his body wrapped around mine like he’s afraid letting go will make us come apart. I press a soft kiss to his shoulder and give him the one truth I’ve never dared say aloud.
“I don’t want to go back to a life without you either.”
ALEKSEI
I wake up with a smile on my face. That alone is foreign.
It takes a moment to realize why my chest feels so light, why the air in my lungs feels full. Then she shifts beside me, soft skin brushing mine, and everything inside me settles.
Her hair is a tangle against the pillow, her breathing steady, her lips parted just enough for me to catch the faintest sound of it. I do not remember the last time I felt like this, like I could stay in one place and the world would still keep turning.
Happiness.
That’s what this is, I think.
True, unshakable happiness. And it is unsettling.
Because it just as easily can be taken away.
I brush a strand of hair from her face, and she stirs, blinking her eyes open. Her lips curve when she sees me, and for a moment, everything inside me goes still.
“Good morning.” She yawns.
I trace the line of her jaw with my thumb. “It is quite the good morning.”
She stretches lazily, her body sliding against mine, and I groan. It takes every ounce of discipline not to pull her back under me.
She props herself on one elbow. “I’m gonna take my mom to get her hair done today. She hasn’t done it in a while, not since the vineyard started falling apart, and she’d never let me pay. But she can afford it now.”
“That is a good idea. But I won’t let her pay. Get whatever you want to.”
“Thank you.” Her knuckles roll down my cheek while I brush my fingers through her hair.
“We should also have them over for dinner this week. What do you think about that?”
Her whole face brightens, and I know I said the right thing. “I would love that.”
She leans in and presses a small, quick kiss to my mouth, like she is about to get out of this bed, away from me. My palm finds the back of her head, holding her there for a second longer because I cannot help it.
She laughs. “You’re not letting me go, are you?”
“Not yet.” I seal my mouth over hers. “Never, if I can help it.”
She lays her head back on my chest, fingers tracing idle patterns on my skin. The quiet stretches between us, comfortable and peaceful.
When the hell have I ever felt peace like this?
After a while, I say, “I have to go out for business for a little while, but I will be home for dinner.”
“Good.” She nuzzles closer. “But you don’t have to leave yet, right?”
“No.” I pull her tighter. “I am right here, lyubov moya.”
She grabs my hand and holds it right over her heart. I do not move. I could stay like this forever.
For a man who has spent his entire life surrounded by death, this is like…rebirth.
After a few quiet minutes, I tilt her chin up. “I have a surprise for you.”
Her brows rise. “Oh, yeah? What kind of surprise?”
A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “I will tell you over dinner.”
She narrows a suspicious gaze. “You know I have zero ability to be patient, right?”
“I know.” I smirk. “That is what makes it fun.”
She groans, a mix of annoyance and playful surrender, before dropping her head back onto my chest. “Fine. I’ll be good.”
“Or don’t…” I grab a fistful of her ass, and she bites the corner of her mouth.
She hums softly, the sound muffled against me. “You’re in quite the good mood this morning.”
“I have a reason to be.”
Her gaze lifts to mine again, searching, curious. “And what’s that?”
I drop a kiss on her forehead. “You are in my bed and you don’t hate me.”
Her eyes fill with emotion, and I hope she believes me. The surprise I have planned for tonight will show her that I am serious. That I am willing to try for her. With her.
But as I hold her tighter, kissing her hair, a darker thought creeps in. One that reminds me what I had to do to make her mine.
And if she ever finds out, she will never forgive me.