Epilogue - Vasily #2
"And I've also seen the man who held me through nightmares. Who cried when his daughter was born. Who loves me in a way I never knew I could be loved." She cupped my face in her hands. "You're both, Vasily. The monster and the man. I love both."
"Gabrielle—"
She kissed me before I could finish. Deep and slow, her body pressing against mine, her fingers sliding into my hair. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her closer, losing myself in the taste of her, the warmth of her, the miracle of her.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard.
"The baby—" I started.
"Is asleep in the nursery. Yelena is watching her." Gaby's eyes were dark with want. "We have hours, Vasily. Hours with nothing to do but this."
She kissed me again, and this time I stopped thinking about anything else.
The terrace was warm with the last heat of the day.
I laid her down on the cushioned lounge, the Mediterranean spreading endless and golden behind her. She looked up at me with those dark eyes that had haunted me from the first moment I'd seen her—full of trust now, full of desire, full of the love I still couldn't quite believe I deserved.
"You're so beautiful," I murmured, my hands finding the hem of her sundress. "Every time I look at you, I can't believe you're mine."
"Show me." Her voice was husky, her hips lifting to help me slide the dress up her thighs. "Show me I'm yours."
I pulled the dress over her head in one smooth motion.
She wasn't wearing a bra—rarely did anymore, between the nursing and the island heat.
Her breasts were fuller than before, her nipples darker, her body changed by the miracle of carrying our child.
I traced the faint silver lines on her stomach—stretch marks she was self-conscious about—and pressed a kiss to each one.
"These are beautiful too," I told her. "Evidence of what you gave me. What you gave us."
"Vasily—"
"Every mark on your body is precious to me.
Every curve, every line, every inch." I kissed my way up her stomach to her breasts, taking one nipple into my mouth.
She gasped, her back arching off the lounge.
"You carried my daughter. You brought her into the world.
You're more beautiful now than you've ever been. "
She moaned as I lavished attention on her breasts, my tongue circling each nipple in turn. Her hands fisted in my hair, pulling me closer, urging me on. I could feel the heat between her thighs, could smell her arousal in the salt-tinged air.
"Please," she breathed. "I need—"
"What do you need?"
"You. I need you."
I kissed down her stomach, hooking my fingers in her underwear and dragging it down her legs. She was already wet—glistening in the golden light, swollen with want. I pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, breathing in the scent of her, making her wait.
"Vasily." My name came out desperate, pleading. "Please. Don't tease."
"I'm not teasing." I spread her open with my thumbs, exposing the pink flesh that was mine alone. "I'm savoring."
I lowered my head and tasted her.
She cried out, her thighs clamping around my ears, her hands tangling in my hair.
I licked through her folds slowly, deliberately, tracing patterns on her clit that made her writhe beneath me.
She tasted like honey, like salt, like home.
I would never get enough of this—of her falling apart on my tongue, of the sounds she made when pleasure overtook her.
"More," she gasped. "I need more."
I slid two fingers inside her, curling them to find the spot that made her see stars. She was tight—tighter than before the pregnancy, the muscles of her core rebuilt through months of recovery. I worked her slowly, my tongue never leaving her clit, building her toward the peak I knew was coming.
"I'm going to—" She couldn't finish the sentence. Her body tensed, her inner walls clamping down on my fingers, and then she shattered. I felt her orgasm pulse through her, felt her cry my name to the evening sky, felt her thighs tremble against my cheeks.
I worked her through it, gentling my touch as the waves subsided. When she finally relaxed, I kissed my way back up her body, settling over her with my weight on my forearms.
"Hi," she said, her voice dazed and sated.
"Hi yourself."
She reached between us, finding the hard length of me through my trousers. "You're overdressed."
"Easily remedied."
I stood just long enough to strip—shirt, trousers, everything—then returned to her, skin against skin, her body soft and welcoming beneath mine. She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me closer, her heels pressing into the small of my back.
"I love you," she said. "I don't say it enough. I love you, Vasily."
"You say it every day."
"It's not enough. I want to say it every minute. Every second." She pulled me down for a kiss, her tongue sliding against mine. "I love you."
"I love you too." I positioned myself at her entrance, feeling her slick heat against the head of my cock. "More than I knew I was capable of loving anyone. More than my own life."
I pushed inside her.
The sensation was overwhelming—tight, wet, hot, perfect. She moaned into my mouth, her nails raking down my back, her hips rising to take me deeper. I stilled for a moment, buried to the hilt, savoring the feeling of being joined with her.
"Move," she commanded. "Please, Vasily. Move."
I moved.
Long, slow strokes at first—pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in.
She matched my rhythm, her body rising to meet each thrust, her breath coming in soft gasps.
The sun was setting behind us, painting her skin in shades of amber and rose, making her look like something out of a dream.
"Harder," she breathed. "I need—"
I gave her harder. Drove into her with increasing force, the lounge creaking beneath us, the sound of skin against skin mixing with her cries and my groans. She was so responsive, so uninhibited, her pleasure written across her face for me to read.
"That's it," I growled. "Take it. Take all of me."
"Yes—God, yes—"
I shifted my angle, hitting the spot deep inside her that made her scream. Her nails drew blood down my back—I felt the sting and didn't care. All that mattered was her, this, the connection between us that transcended words.
"I want to feel you come," I said against her ear. "I want to feel you fall apart around me."
"I'm close—so close—"
I reached between us and found her clit, rubbing tight circles in time with my thrusts. Her moans grew louder, more desperate. I could feel her inner walls starting to flutter, the telltale signs of approaching release.
"Now," I commanded. "Come for me now, Gabrielle."
She shattered.
Her orgasm was violent—her body convulsing around me, her scream echoing off the terrace walls, her nails drawing fresh lines of fire down my back.
The sensation of her clenching around my cock pushed me over the edge with her.
I buried myself deep and came harder than I could remember, spilling inside her in hot, pulsing waves.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. We lay tangled together, breathing hard, sweat cooling on our skin. The sun had nearly finished its descent, the sky streaked with purple and gold.
"That was—" She couldn't finish, just shook her head.
"Yes." I pressed a kiss to her temple. "It was."
I rolled us onto our sides, still inside her, unwilling to break the connection. She nestled against my chest, her leg thrown over my hip, her breathing slowly evening out.
"I never knew it could be like this," she murmured. "Before you. I never knew I could feel this much."
"Neither did I." I stroked her hair, watching the last light fade from the sky. "I thought I was incapable of it. Thought the monster had consumed everything soft in me."
"The monster is still there."
"Yes."
"But so is this." She pressed her hand over my heart. "This is here too. And this is stronger."
I held her as the stars emerged overhead—one by one, then dozens, then thousands, the night sky blazing with ancient light.
The Mediterranean whispered against the cliffs below.
Somewhere in the house, our daughter slept, safe and loved and blissfully unaware of the darkness that had brought her parents together.
"We should go inside," Gaby said eventually, her voice drowsy. "Check on Dasha."
"In a minute." I pulled her closer. "Just let me hold you for another minute."
She smiled against my chest. "You can hold me forever, Vasily. That's kind of the point of marriage."
"Forever." I tested the word. "I like the sound of that."
"Good. Because you're stuck with me."
"There's nowhere else I'd rather be stuck."
She laughed softly, and the sound settled into my chest beside all the other moments I treasured. The first time I'd seen her. The first time she'd said my name. The first time she'd kissed me, chosen me, given me a chance to be more than the monster I'd been.
I wasn't a good man. Would never be a good man. The darkness in me was permanent, indelible, woven into my DNA. I would kill again, hurt again, do terrible things to protect what was mine.
But I was also this. Husband. Father. A man capable of love.
She'd given me that. Had looked at the monster and found the man underneath. Had chosen to stay when she had every reason to run.
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head and closed my eyes.
Whatever came next—Tigran Pankratov, rival organizations, the endless dangers of the life I'd built—we would face it together. My wife, my daughter, my family.
The future was uncertain. The threats were real.
But tonight, there was only this: her warmth against my chest, the stars wheeling overhead, and a peace I'd never believed I deserved.
Tonight, I was home.
*****
THE END