Chapter 27 #2
“I love you.” The words spill from my lips with each breath, movement, and moment of friction that builds the tension toward an inevitable release. “I love you so much it scares me.”
“Don’t be scared.” He captures my mouth in deep kisses interspersed with words. “Never. Be. Scared. Of. This. Never be scared of us .”
I thread my fingers through his hair, anchoring myself to this moment and this man along with this choice to build something beautiful from the ordeal. Each sensation builds upon the last until I’m trembling on the edge of climax that promises to shatter every remaining wall between us.
“Come with me.” His voice carries command and plea as his movements become more urgent, desperate, and focused on the pinnacle we’re climbing together. “At the same time.”
The orgasm crashes over me with intensity that makes the room disappear, leaving only sensation, emotion, and the overwhelming reality of being completely, utterly claimed by the man I love.
My pussy convulses around his cock while he follows me over the edge, and his release fills me a second later.
We collapse together afterward, breathing hard while endorphins flood my system with contentment that rivals any medical intervention.
Everything else fades into background noise compared to the warmth of his body against mine.
“That was worth every risk we took to get here.” I trace lazy patterns across his chest while my pulse gradually returns to normal.
“Worth every moment of fear and uncertainty.”
“The beginning of forever.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head while tightening his arms around me protectively. “There are no more enemies or threats. From here, it’s just us building the life we want for our children.”
We talk softly about the future as exhaustion gradually overtakes adrenaline and trauma. Baby names flow between us with laughter and gentle debate as we discuss traditional choices mixing with family honors and completely invented possibilities that make us both smile.
“Henrietta for one of the girls,” I suggest while drawing invisible designs across his skin. “After Henri, who was actually kind to me. We can call her Henny or Etta.”
“I like that.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Alexei for one of the boys.” His suggestion, delivered in a serious tone, makes me look up in surprise.
“Not to honor Mikhail’s brother, but to take back the name from the pain it’s caused.
I want to turn it into something beautiful instead of something that destroys. ”
The gesture speaks to forgiveness and transformation that goes beyond simple revenge. When he chooses that name for our son, he’s refusing to let Mikhail’s grief poison our future or define our family’s legacy.
“I like that.” I kiss his chest over his heart. “Redemption instead of retribution.”
Sleep claims us gradually, wrapped in each other’s arms.
I wake before dawn with early pregnancy restlessness that’s become routine over the past few weeks.
The IV has finished dripping, and my head feels clearer than it has since the kidnapping began.
Iskander sleeps beside me with one arm thrown protectively across my waist, and his face appears peaceful in a way I rarely see during waking hours.
My phone sits on the nightstand, rescued from Mikhail’s lair by one of Iskander’s men and placed there while I was getting medical treatment.
I didn’t notice it until now and reach for it.
I have voicemails and suddenly remember refusing his call while driving toward Dr. Layton’s office, too angry with him to speak rationally then.
Though only yesterday, that feels like a lifetime ago now.
I slip from bed carefully to avoid waking him and move to the window seat, where I can listen to messages without disturbing his rest. Most are routine, with a few from Eve, one calling about an order I placed online for baby things being ready to pick up, but then I hear Iskander’s voice, hollow and raw with emotion I’ve never heard before, and freeze.
“It’s me. I’m sorry about this morning. I’m sorry about all of it. I love you more than I know how to show you, and I’m about to prove it in the worst possible way.”
The message ends abruptly, leaving me staring at the phone while my stomach drops with sudden understanding. He left this voicemail before coming to rescue me, which means he was planning something he knew I’d hate. Something that would prove his love in the worst way.
“You’re awake.” His voice carries sleep-roughened warmth as he notices my absence from bed. “Everything okay?”
I turn to face him with the phone still in my hand, studying his expression while pieces of a larger puzzle begin falling into place.
“I just listened to your voicemail from yesterday… The first time you ever said you loved me, not last night… The one about proving your love in the worst possible way…?”
His face goes blank, but I catch the flash of guilt that confirms my suspicions about what he was planning before Mikhail’s kidnapping changed everything.
“What were you going to do?” I keep my voice calm despite the tension building in my chest. “What would have proven your love in a way I’d hate? ”
He sits up in bed, clearly debating how much truth to share as I wait for honesty I’m not sure I want to hear.
“Plan L, for Last Resort.” The admission emerges with reluctant honesty.
“I was going to move you to a secure facility in the mountains while I handled the Mikhail situation. You would have thought it was a spa weekend until you realized you couldn’t leave.
I was going to trick Harper into going with you and keep her captive too, so you’d have company. ”
The revelation hits me harder than expected, even though I suspected something like this after piecing together fragments from recent conversations.
He was planning to kidnap me, and my BFF, for my own protection while lying about the nature of the arrangement.
“You were going to betray my trust to keep me safe.” The words emerge flat and emotionless as I process the implications.
“You were making decisions about my life without consulting me.”
“Yes.” He doesn’t try to defend or minimize what he’d planned. “I was going to prioritize your survival over your autonomy, and I was willing to do that even if it meant ultimately risking losing you.”
Part of me wants to be furious about his paternalistic assumptions and willingness to deceive me for what he considered my own good.
However, another part recognizes that spending yesterday in Mikhail’s basement was infinitely worse than being confined to a luxury mountain retreat with medical staff and security.
“I would have been safe.” The admission emerges grudgingly. “Angry and feeling betrayed, but safe.”
“I know it was wrong.” He moves to sit beside me on the window seat, close enough to touch but respecting the distance my posture creates. “I know it violated everything you’ve asked for about partnership and respect.”
“Yet you were planning to do it anyway.”
“I was terrified of losing you and our children to an enemy I should have eliminated months ago.” His voice carries pain that goes beyond simple regret. “I would rather have you hate me than attend your funeral.”
The honesty cuts through my anger like a knife through butter, revealing the fear that drove him toward deception and control.
After experiencing Mikhail’s basement and understanding the level of threat we faced, I can’t entirely condemn the protective instincts that made him consider such extreme measures.
“Promise me something.” I reach for his hand while meeting his gaze.
“Promise me we’ll be equal partners in every decision from this point forward.
No more protective deceptions, no more choosing my safety over my agency, and no kidnapping others, like Harper, to make sure I have entertainment.
” There’s a hint of amusement when I end with that. “She would have killed you.”
“I promise.” The vow emerges without hesitation or qualification. “Complete honesty, shared decisions, and true partnership in everything that affects our family.” His lips curve tentatively. “I also won’t try to kidnap your best friend and risk her putting out a hit on me.”
The immediate agreement reassures me he understands why this matters, and yesterday’s violence taught him lessons about trust and communication that go beyond simpler considerations. “She’d never do that.” I wait a moment before saying, “She’d just do it herself.”
He laughs, clearly not as intimidated by Harper as he should be, but he’ll figure that out over the next fifty years or so.
After a moment, he asks, “Are you still going to marry me after learning what I was willing to do to protect you?” His question carries vulnerability that makes my chest ache with a surge of affection.
“Of course.” I lean forward to kiss him softly. “Especially knowing you can admit when you’re wrong and commit to doing better.”
I frame his face with my hands, studying features that will become familiar over decades of shared life and love.
We’ve survived violence and betrayal and learned to choose trust over fear.
We’ve earned the right to happiness through survival and sacrifice.
The rest of our lives stretches ahead like unwritten pages waiting for the story we’ll create together.