37. Lila
Lila
Maksim knows.
I give him a few seconds to sit with it. Let him decide what he’s going to say. Lie or tell the truth.
“I found the envelope,” I say.
He looks at me with intense eyes.
“There’s enough money in there to disappear for a long time.” I keep my voice even. “For good.”
“Lila.”
He moves to the edge of the bed and sits. He laces his hands together between his knees and looks at the floor. I see the exhaustion in his shoulders. I don’t know what he’s been doing tonight, but I have a good idea.
I can see the weight he carries that he never talks about. I’m desperate to share that burden. It’s mine to shoulder too.
“You’re planning my escape. You didn’t tell me because you knew if you told me, I’d say no.”
“Yes.”
“That’s manipulative.”
“It is.”
“And arrogant.”
He shrugs.
“It’s exactly what my mother did when I was a child.”
He looks up at me.
I move to the edge of the bed, so we’re sitting side by side. I look at the black diamond on my hand. The diamond that makes me his. And him mine to worry about.
“I was young and didn’t understand the danger. I couldn’t take care of myself and depended on her to keep me safe.” I pause and collect my thoughts. “But I’m not a child anymore, Maksim. I’m a grown-up. I know the risks. I’m your wife. Your partner. I am not your responsibility.”
He's perfectly still. Taking it.
“You don’t get to make those choices for me,” I say.
“You can be furious at me, but it won’t stop me,” he says quietly.
“Maksim.” I turn toward him fully on the bed. “I love you.”
Something shifts in him. I feel it before I see it.
“I know that’s probably inconvenient,” I say.
“And I know we didn’t start this as something that was supposed to be real.
I know you married me to solve a problem, and that’s all we were ever supposed to be.
” I keep my eyes on his face even though part of me wants to look away.
“But I love you. I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.
I’m not going to Portugal. I’m not going to leave you.
You aren’t going to fight a war on my behalf alone. ”
His throat moves.
"I don't know how to love you without trying to keep you alive," he says.
“You married me,” I say with a half-smile. “You’re stuck with me. That’s how it works. You don’t get to sacrifice yourself and then ship me off to live a life without you.” I reach out and put my hand over his. “I don’t need saving anymore. I needed it once, and you did it. That was enough.”
He looks down at my hand over his.
“I’m not fragile,” I say. “I know you know that. Stop treating me as the damsel in distress.” I squeeze his hand. “You hear me?”
When he looks up at me, I see guilt. And beneath it, recognition.
“I hear you,” he says.
“Good.”
He pulls me into his lap. I straddle him with my hands going to his face. I kiss him with everything I have. His arms come around me.
“Dammit, woman,” he groans into my mouth. "You make it very hard to save you."
He slides his hands up my back, pulling me closer. I feel how much he wants me, and I rock against him. I’m wearing one of his shirts, and my panties are damp with need for him.
"You're going to be the death of me, voinitsa."
I pull back just enough to look at him. His eyes are dark. His chest rises and falls. I reach down and pull my shirt over my head. His hands are immediately on my skin, spanning my ribs, his thumbs tracing the undersides of my breasts.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His tone is reverent.
Then, he moves his mouth to my breast, pulling my nipple between his teeth. He flicks his tongue and I gasp.
“Maksim, I need you.”
He shifts to the side and places me on the bed beneath him. He kisses my throat, my collarbone, and over the curve of my shoulder. His stubble drags against my skin, scraping over my sensitive flesh. I arch into him.
I get his shirt off. I move my hands over his stomach, reveling in the hard lines of his beautiful body. I lift my head and kiss one defined pectoral muscle and then the other one, using my tongue to lap against his flesh.
He pulls down my panties and then he’s looking at me. I hold his gaze because I meant what I said. I’m not fragile. I’m not afraid.
“So fucking beautiful.”
He lowers his head and kisses between my legs.
It’s gentle. Loving. I exhale loudly, and buck my hips against his face.
He presses me against the mattress. He’s unhurried about it, deliberate.
I tighten my fingers in his hair as the tension slowly builds.
I can’t speak. My head rolls side to side as he sweeps his tongue across my clit.
“Maksim!”
He takes me apart, piece by piece, until I’m crying out over and over. My body vibrates with every powerful aftershock.
He works his way back up my body while I’m still catching my breath. I reach for his waistband and help him out of the rest of his clothes, and then, he’s between my thighs.
I look up at him.
He drops his forehead to mine, and it undoes me more than anything else.
“I’m never letting you go, voinitsa.”
He pushes inside me, and we go still.
I feel the exhale move through him. I wrap my legs around him and pull him deeper. He groans quietly against my neck and starts to move. Long, deep strokes that I feel in my very soul. I move with him, slicing my hands over the muscles of his back. I feel the tension there.
“Maksim, I love you,” I whisper.
I know he doesn’t know how to respond. That’s okay. I just need him to know.
He watches me as his body slides into my mine. It’s slow at first, with eye contact that I don’t break even when it feels like too much. His hand comes up to cup my face. His thumb brushes my cheekbone.
“I have you,” he says.
“I know,” I say. “I have you, too. Always.”
He makes a sound before burying his face in my neck. He moves deeper. I hold onto him and let myself feel all of it.
I come apart with him this time. I feel his body go taut, and his arms tighten around me. I hold him through it with my lips pressed against his temple.
He doesn’t move away afterward.
His head is heavy on my chest. I run my fingers slowly through his hair as his breathing evens out.
“I love you, Lila.”
My hand stops in his hair.
He said it. He actually said it.
I smile. “I know.”
That’s enough.
That’s everything.