Chapter 7 - Valentina
I sit under the familiar oak tree, book in hand, eagerly awaiting Dmitri's arrival. Ever since that accidental soccer ball incident, we've formed an unexpected bond over our shared love for reading. It's been two months already.
Footsteps crunch on the grass, and I smile as Dmitri comes into view.
"That book you lent me is a disaster!" he exclaims before even reaching me. "How could Katerina be so foolish? She knew the guy was coming for her, yet she still went back to the house… ALONE!" He plops down beside me, frustration etched on his face.
I laugh, amused by his exasperation. "That's part of the joy of reading, Dmitri. Characters can be infuriatingly dense at times." I shake my head with a grin. "Trust me, I've wanted to shake some sense into them myself."
Dmitri runs a hand through his tousled hair. "But after everything that happened the day before, how could she be so blind?" His eyebrows knit together as he talks. "I don't think I can read anything again. I’m so pissed."
I feign hurt and clutch my chest dramatically. "Never read again? But Dmitri, I've collected so many wonderful books just for you!"
He hums, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. "Well, when you put it that way..." He leans back on his elbows, eyes twinkling. "I suppose I'm still very much interested in reading."
Smiling, I pull a book from my bag and hand it to him. "Is this the next adventure?"
Dmitri opens the cover, brows furrowing as he examines the inscription on the inside page. His name is written there in my looping script. He looks up at me, realization dawning.
I nod, unable to contain my grin. "The book is yours."
Excitement lights up in his eyes, and he leans forward and presses a quick kiss to my cheek without warning. We both freeze, his lips lingering near my skin. He pulls back slightly. "I... apologize, that was—"
I shake my head in amusement. His cheeks have a faint rosy tint as he turns his attention back to the book, clearing his throat.
"To Dmitri, may our adventures in reading be just the beginning." He reads the inscription aloud, eyes flickering up to meet mine. "From Valentina." A slow smile spreads across his face as the words sink in.
I blush under his gaze. Dmitri notices the crimson flush creeping up my neck, and his eyes light up with teasing laughter. "I see you’ve already planned many more adventures for us."
My cheeks grow even hotter. Dmitri's eyes sparkle with amusement at my reaction.
He leans in slightly, a knowing smile creeping across his lips. "I never thought I'd see the day you'd blush like a schoolgirl. I think I can die peacefully now."
I shove his shoulder lightly, unable to suppress my smile. "Oh hush, you. It's the summer heat, that's all." I feign nonchalance, though my rapidly beating heart betrays my attempt at casual indifference.
Dmitri chuckles softly, his gaze holding mine with an unexpected intensity. "If you say so." He pauses, seeming to consider something before speaking again. "Though I must admit, that rosy color in your cheeks is quite lovely."
My breathing falters as he voices the unexpected compliment. I search his warm brown eyes, unable to look away.
I lean forward, a thrill running through me as I close the distance between us. My lips find Dmitri's in a tentative, tender kiss. For a brief moment, he stills, caught off guard. But then his hand cups the back of my neck, pulling me closer as he returns the kiss with fervent passion.
Our movements are clumsy and inexperienced, but I don't care. I wrap my arms around his neck, relishing the feeling of finally being in his embrace. Dmitri's fingers tangle in my hair as our kiss deepens, the world around us fading away.
A loud cough shatters the intimate moment. We break apart, breathless, to find my bodyguard standing nearby with an impassive expression.
"Miss Makarov, it's time to return home."
Heat floods my cheeks as I realize he watched us kiss. I nod quickly, unable to meet his eyes. Rising to my feet, I dust off my skirt, doing my best to regain my composure. I turn back to Dmitri, who watches me with an unreadable look.
"Until next time," I murmur, offering him a shy smile before following my bodyguard down the path.
I smooth the crisp bedsheets, ensuring every crease is neatly tucked away. Dmitri has been recovering well, though his restless spirit makes it difficult to keep him confined.
Moving to the dresser, I open the top drawer, intent on straightening its contents. My fingers brush against a worn, leather-bound book, and I pause, pulling it out carefully. This familiar tome was one of the first I gifted Dmitri when we began sharing our love of reading.
I open the cover, and there it is, my looping handwriting on the frontispiece. A lump forms in my throat as memories come flooding back. How much has changed since those carefree days under the oak tree?
The door creaks open behind me.
"Why are you cleaning?" Dmitri's gruff voice cuts through my reverie. "We have maids for that."
I turn slowly to face him, cradling the book against my chest. His eyes widen as he takes in the tears spilling down my cheeks. He quickly crosses the room and snatches the book from my grasp.
"Don't go through my things," he snaps, clutching the book tightly.
I flinch at the harshness in his tone, the sting of rejection fresh. Dmitri's jaw clenches, and for a moment, regret flickers across his features. But it's gone in an instant, replaced by that impenetrable wall he so often keeps up.
I stare at Dmitri, my heart pounding as he clutches the worn book tightly. "You... you kept it?" My voice is barely above a whisper.
He doesn't respond, his jaw set in a hard line. I take a step toward him. "Dmitri... you kept the book I gave you?" I ask again, searching his eyes.
"Yes!" He shouts, startling me. "I fucking kept it, okay?" With a sudden burst of rage, he flings the book across the room. It slams against the wall with a dull thud. "It's just a useless goddamn book!"
My eyes follow the book in stunned silence. I look at Dmitri, and before he can leave, I grip his wrist.
"Tell me," I say softly, covering his hand with my free one. "Tell me what happened that night your family was killed."
When he doesn't respond, I pull Dmitri toward the bed. He resists at first but eventually relents with a frustrated sigh and sinks onto the edge of the mattress. I settle beside him, our shoulders brushing, and face his brooding profile.
"Tell me," I implore again, voice soft but insistent. "What happened that night?"
Dmitri's eyes remain fixed on some distant point, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard. For a long moment, the only sound is our mingled breathing. Just when I think he'll refuse to answer, he exhales a shuddering breath and begins to speak in a low, gravelly tone.
"It started like any other night..." His fingers flex, curling into fists atop his thighs. "My sister Katya was setting the table for supper while my mum prepared the meal."
A muscle twitches in his clenched jaw as he pauses, lips pressed into a grim line. I resist the urge to reach for his hand, sensing any uninvited touch might cause him to retreat back into himself.
"Then the pounding started." Dmitri's voice drops even lower, laced with remembered terror. "Harsh knocks at the door, loud enough to rattle the windows. My father went to answer..."
He trails off, squeezing his eyes shut as if to block out the onslaught of memories. I wait with bated breath, not daring to interrupt this fragile recounting.
"They forced their way inside," Dmitri continues hoarsely, his knuckles white from the force of his clenched fists. "Six or seven of them, all brandishing guns. They..."
His throat works convulsively, but no words come. I can't stop myself this time. I place my hand over his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
Dmitri's eyes snap open at my touch, glittering with unshed tears. "They made me watch," he finally chokes out, anguish contorting his features. "They tied me up and made me watch as they interrogated and killed my parents. " His voice cracks. "They shot Katya right in front of me."
I gently cup Dmitri's face in my hands, forcing him to meet my steady gaze. "What did they want?" I ask softly . "What were they after that night?"
His eyes harden, the brief vulnerability replaced by a simmering rage. A bitter laugh escapes his lips. "They kept demanding some shipment, over and over." His fingers dig into his thighs. "Maybe it was a code or something, but my father insisted he didn't have what they wanted. He begged them, told them he was clueless." His jaw clenches. "It didn't matter. They executed him and my mother anyway."
My chest tightens as I imagine the horrific scene. I lean forward, resting my forehead against his. "I'm so sorry, Dmitri," I whisper, wishing I could shoulder his pain. "No one should have to go through that."
He pulls back slightly, eyes burning with determination. "It doesn't matter," he says gruffly. "What's done is done. But I will get my revenge, Valentina. I'll make them pay for what they did. Every single one of them."
I hold his intense gaze, conviction blazing in my own eyes. "I'll help you," I vow, the words tumbling out before I can think better of it. "Whatever you need, I'll help you with it."
Shock flickers across his face at my declaration. Before he can respond, I surge forward and press my lips to his. He stills, caught off guard. He grips my shoulders, trying to push me back. "Valentina, we shouldn't—"
Ignoring his protests, I snake my arms around his neck. "I'm offering myself to you, Dmitri. As a willing captive." I hold his gaze, unflinching. "I'm yours now. Do whatever you want with me." I swallow hard. "If you want to kill me... then go ahead."
Dmitri's eyes blaze with a storm of emotions—anger, longing, anguish. His fingers dig into my shoulders. "Fuck," he growls.
Then his mouth crushes against mine in a searing, desperate kiss. I gasp as his teeth graze my lip. Our bodies press together as the kiss deepens, all restraint gone. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer.
Dmitri's hands slide around my waist, pulling me toward him. Our lips meet again, and I feel myself falling—my heart, my body, my soul—into an abyss of desire. Reality narrows to the sensation of his lips on mine, his hands on my skin.
He breaks the kiss, his breathing ragged. He gently lowers me onto the bed. As he leans over me, he winces.
"Dmitri, your wound," I murmur, concern in my voice.
"I'm fine," he says, though his eyes tells a different story. He adjusts himself carefully, avoiding pressure on his injury.
In that moment, I see the raw intensity of his emotions. Desire flares in his gaze, but something else lingers beneath the surface—uncertainty, perhaps, or the remnants of his earlier turmoil.
Before he can voice whatever is holding him back, I act on impulse. With a swift movement, I reach for the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head, casting it aside. His eyes widen, his breath catching as his eyes roam over my newly exposed skin. I reach behind me, unclasping my bra with steady fingers, and slip the straps down my arms, baring myself fully to him.
I hold his gaze, seeing the spark of something dark and hungry ignite within the depths of his eyes. My heartbeat quickens as I sense his desire mirroring my own. Without breaking eye contact, I whisper, "Take me, please."
In response, his lips crash down on mine once more, desperate and hungry. I taste the salt of his skin, feel the scrape of his unshaven jaw against my cheek. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer still, eager to erase any remaining distance between us.
His hand trails down my arm, sparking a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Following the curve of my waist, his fingertips dip below the waistband of my skirt, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from me. I feel his smile against my skin as he gently grazes the spot just above my hip. His touch is electric, stoking the flame of longing that has been steadily growing within me.
I arch my back slightly, pressing myself more fully into his touch, encouraging him to continue his exploration. My skin tingles with anticipation, every nerve ending alive and attuned to his movements. With each caress, I feel myself falling further under his spell, willingly surrendering to the moment.
Dmitri's hand hesitates at the zipper of my skirt as if sensing the point of no return. Our eyes lock, a silent question passing between us. I offer him a slight nod, granting my consent. His fingers close around the zipper, slowly drawing it down, the metallic sound unbearably loud in the quiet room. The fabric parts, baring my body to him in a way that feels both vulnerable and liberating.
As the last barrier falls away, Dmitri's eyes trace the path of his hands, taking in every curve and hollow. His gaze lingers on the rapid rise and fall of my chest, my breasts heaving with the force of my heart's rapid rhythm.
His mouth closes around my nipple, sending a shockwave of pleasure through me. I can't suppress a sharp gasp as his tongue teases the sensitive peak. I feel his lips curve into a smile against my skin as his hand cups my other breast, fingers gently kneading the soft flesh.
I let out a low moan, arching my back to offer him better access. My body is alive with sensation, every nerve screaming for more. His hand leaves my breast, trailing down my stomach, causing me to shiver as his fingertips draw lazy circles on my skin.
With each touch, I grind my hips against him, seeking relief from the ache building inside me. He chuckles softly, the vibrations tickling my sensitized skin as he continues his path downward. I feel his breath ghost over the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, causing me to squirm with anticipation. Then, his hand slips beneath the silken triangle of my panties, finding the wet heat between my thighs. My breath catches in my throat as his fingers begin to explore, circling and teasing in a way that has me writhing beneath him. No one has ever touched me like this before, and the sensation is overwhelming.
I gaze down at him, watching as his eyes, dark with desire, take in the sight of me sprawled before him, naked and wanting. This man, so intense and mysterious, has reduced me to a pool of need, and I find myself reveling in the loss of control.
His fingertips graze my most sensitive spot, and a sharp gasp escapes my lips. No one has ever seen me like this—completely bare and vulnerable. But I can't bring myself to care as his touch ignites a fire within me that demands to be fed. I reach for him, urging him to continue.
"Don't stop," I whisper breathlessly, my entire body thrumming with need.
Dmitri's thumb presses against me, finding a spot that sends sparks of pleasure coursing through my body. I can't hold back the guttural moan that escapes my throat as he teases and circles, his touch confident and sure. My hips buck involuntarily in a silent plea for more.
I'm on fire, and I'm helpless to do anything but surrender to the onslaught of sensations. And then, with a final, exquisitely deft touch, I shatter. My eyes snap shut as a rush of pleasure explodes within me, my body convulsing as I cry out his name.
"Dmitri!"
The force of my climax leaves me trembling, my breath coming in sharp gasps. But Dmitri isn't done.
I barely have a chance to register the loss of his touch before I feel his breath tickling my inner thigh. With a gentle but sure motion, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties and slowly peels them away, baring me fully to his gaze.
I'm aware of my heart hammering in my chest as his eyes roam over me, drinking in the sight of my nakedness. For a moment, we're both still, caught in this charged silence. Then he's leaning in, his breath warm against me. I suck in a sharp breath as his lips brush ever so softly against my most intimate place. It's a light touch, sending shivers racing through my body.
"Oh," I breathe, my hands flying to his head as I try to stop him. "What are you doing?"
But he ignores my question, capturing my hand and pressing a kiss to my palm before placing it back at my side. With gentle insistence, he holds me there, a silent command for me to stay put. I don't have time to protest before I feel the soft swipe of his tongue. The sensation sends a bolt of pleasure straight to my core, and I dig my heels into the bed, fighting the urge to buck my hips.
"Oh God," I whisper, my eyes screwing shut as I try to process the sensations rioting through my body. I can feel his mouth on me, tasting, exploring. My skin is slick with sweat as my breath comes in short, sharp pants.
"Dmitri," I breathe again, my hips involuntarily rising from the bed as he continues his tender torture. It's too much—and yet not nearly enough. My body is begging for more even as my mind struggles to process this new and treacherous path we've ventured down.
"Wait," I gasp, my hands flying to his head again, burrowing in his hair as I try to pull him up toward me. "This is too much!"
But he's relentless, holding my hips firmly against the mattress as he continues to lap at me, drawing out moans and pleas that seem to belong to someone else.
"Dmitri, I can't," I whimper, my cheeks flush with heat as the pleasure builds. I can feel the tension coiling within me again, threatening to snap me in two.
But he doesn't stop. Instead, he presses his advantage, his tongue teasing and flicking until I'm a writhing, moaning mess beneath him. And then, just when I think I can't take anymore, he finds that one spot that sends me spiraling over the edge again.
"Oh—please!" I cry out as the climax washes over me, my body arching off the bed as I surrender to the waves of bliss.
Slowly, I come back to earth, my body spent and sated. Dmitri rises above me, his eyes dark and hooded as he takes in the sight of me—hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, body glistening and glowing with warmth.
My eyes trail over his sculpted chest, following the contour of his defined abs and the trail of hair that disappears below the waist of his pants. But it's the harsh scars that mar his otherwise perfect skin that hold my attention, remnants of the brutality he endured.
He steps out of his pants, leaving him naked before me. My eyes travel the length of him, taking in his muscular form, and I feel a tremor run through me.
He joins me on the bed, his body a welcome heat against mine. His lips capture mine in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with mine in a dance that mirrors the more intimate dance about to take place.
With one swift thrust, he enters me, claiming me as his own. Pain slices through me, a sharp contrast to the pleasure that preceded it. My eyes fly open, tears welling as I bite my lip to stifle a cry. He freezes, his eyes searching mine.
"You've never..." he begins, his voice a mixture of wonder and concern.
I shake my head, my cheeks flaming with embarrassment.
Cursing under his breath, he makes a move to pull out, but I stop him, my hands clutching at his back. "No," I whisper, my eyes searching his. " Please, give me a moment."
He hesitates, his eyes hooded with desire but concern etched on his face. "Are you sure?" His voice is rough, his own need obvious.
I nod, reaching up to brush the hair from his eyes. "I'm sure. I want this, with you." My thumb grazes his cheek, my eyes never leaving his. "Give me a minute, and then we can—"
He silences me with another kiss, his lips urgent against mine. "Then I'll take it slow this time," he murmurs against my mouth, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of desire and something softer, something that makes my heart stutter in my chest.
I close my eyes, savoring the sensation of his lips on mine. This man, so full of darkness and pain, is also my sanctuary. In his arms, I find solace from the darkness that threatens to consume me. His lips trail kisses along my jaw, down my neck, and I feel his smile against my skin. His hand nestles into my hair and tilts my head back to grant him better access, and I surrender.
His kisses grow more insistent, demanding as he remains inside me. My breathing quickens.
With a gentle hand, he cradles my head with his arm. "Are you ready?" he murmurs, his eyes searching mine for any hint of hesitation. I nod. He begins to move, slowly at first, his eyes never leaving mine. As the initial discomfort ebbs, I feel the spark of pleasure igniting within me once more. My breath hitches, my body arching to meet his, urging him to quicken his pace.
He obliges, his thrusts becoming more insistent, his breath coming in sharp pants. "Val," he groans, his eyes sliding shut. "You feel so—"
He doesn't finish his sentence, his mouth crushing mine in a desperate kiss. Our bodies move in perfect sync, the rhythm of our joining like a dance as old as time. My hands roam his back, my nails scratching lightly across his skin, eliciting a sharp hiss from him.
"More," I whisper against his lips, urging him on.
He complies, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. My fingers dig into his back, holding on as he takes us both to the brink.
"Dmitri!" I cry out as the pleasure builds, threatening to spill over. "Don't stop!"
His response is a deep groan as he pulls me tighter against him, his body tensing as he builds his own release. The climax washes over me, my body convulsing as I cry out his name again, my release claiming me as I surrender to the all-encompassing pleasure.
Dmitri buries his face in the curve of my neck, his breath hot against my skin as he, too, finds his release. I feel his muscles tense as he spills himself into me, his body shaking with the force of his climax.
We're both panting, our bodies slick with sweat. Gently, he pulls out of me and rolls onto his back, tangling his fingers with mine as we stare up at the ceiling, catching our breath.
I feel a warmth spread through me that has nothing to do with the physical release we just shared. I'm acutely aware of his hand in mine and wonder at the ease with which he has breached the walls around my heart.
He turns his head to look at me, his eyes soft with affection, and for a moment, I lose myself in their depths.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice rough with concern.
The corners of my mouth turn up as I trace the contours of his face with my free hand, marveling at the fact that he's here with me.
"I'm more than okay," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.