Chapter 37 Mila
Mila
The evening felt almost normal.
I pull the covers up to my chin and listen to Dmitri and Katya settling into the guest room down the hall.
Their muffled voices carry through the walls. Laughter. The sound of people who love each other without reservation.
Getting to know Katya is going better than I expected, too.
She’s warm without being overbearing. Smart without being cruel. The kind of woman who survived this world and kept her humanity intact.
Watching her interact with Alexei tonight showed me a different side of him, too. The protective older brother. The man who smiles when he thinks no one is paying attention.
Alexei slides into bed beside me. The mattress dips under his weight. He’s wearing only boxers, and the sight of his bare chest still makes my pulse kick up even after everything we’ve been through.
“Your brother seems happy,” I comment.
Alexei nods and replies, “He is.”
“Does that bother you?”
He turns his head on the pillow to look at me. “Why would it bother me?”
“Because you had to watch him find something you thought was impossible.”
He pauses before responding. “I don’t begrudge Dmitri his happiness.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He reaches over and runs his fingers through my hair. The touch sends tingles across my scalp. “You ask too many questions.”
“You avoid too many answers.”
A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Fair.”
I inch closer until our bodies touch, letting his body heat seep through my nightgown. “My neck is killing me.”
“From what?”
“Stress. Everything.” I roll my shoulders and feel the knots pull. “I think my body is staging a rebellion.”
He sits up and motions in my direction. “Turn over.”
“What?”
“Turn over. On your stomach.”
I pause for a second before complying. The pillow cushions my face as I settle into position. The silk nightgown rides up slightly on my thighs, settling just under my ass as Alexei climbs on top of me with his knees on either side of my body.
He places his hands on my shoulders, pressing his thumbs into the muscles along my spine in slow circles.
I groan into the pillow. “That feels incredible.”
“You’re carrying all your stress right here.” He applies more pressure to a particularly tight spot between my shoulder blades. “You need to breathe.”
“I am breathing.”
“Deeper. Like you mean it.”
I inhale slowly through my nose and exhale through my mouth. He continues working, kneading out the knots from muscles I didn’t even realize were locked. His thumbs dig into the base of my neck as I melt into the mattress.
“Better?” he asks.
“Much better.”
He moves lower, working down my back. Each stroke loosens something inside me. Not just the physical knots but the emotional ones, too. The fear. The worry. The constant vigilance that’s become my new normal.
“You’re good at this,” I mumble into the pillow.
“I’m good at a lot of things.”
I snort into the pillow. “Your humility is impressive.”
“I spent years learning how to read bodies. How they move. Where they hold pain. What makes them respond. It’s useful in my line of work.”
“So, this is a professional skill?”
“Everything I do serves a purpose.”
I turn my head to the side so I can see him from the corner of my eye. “Even this?”
“Especially this.”
He traces the curve of my spine through the thin fabric of my nightgown. The massage begins to feel less therapeutic and more intentional. Heat pools low in my stomach as his cock hardens against my backside. His touch becomes slower and more sensual, and I suppress a groan.
“Alexei,” I prompt.
“Hmm?”
“What are you doing?”
“Taking care of you.” His voice drops lower. Rougher. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
My breath catches. “I wanted a massage.”
“And now?”
“Now, I want more.”
He gathers the hem of my nightgown and lifts it slowly. Cool air hits my bare skin, and he presses his lips against the small of my back.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he whispers against my skin.
I close my eyes and let the sensation wash over me. His mouth trails higher, kissing each vertebra with care. When he reaches my shoulders, he moves his weight until he’s hovering over me. I feel his breath on the back of my neck.
“Turn over,” he instructs.
I obey without thinking. Our eyes meet in the low-lit bedroom. His pupils are dilated, dark, and hungry, but something else is there. Something softer than I’ve seen before.
“I need you tonight,” I admit.
“I know.”
“Not like before,” I clarify.
He strokes my cheek with his thumb as he replies, “Then tell me what you need.”
“Just you. All of you. Nothing held back.”
Something moves across his face before he leans down and kisses me. His tongue parts my lips, exploring my mouth like we have all the time in the world. Like no one is hunting us. Like tomorrow doesn’t exist.
I roll over underneath him and reach for his shoulders to pull him closer. He settles his weight on top of me, careful not to crush me but present enough that I feel every inch of his hard length on my abdomen.
He runs his hands over my body with a gentleness I didn’t know he possessed. He traces the curve of my breast through the nightgown, runs his fingers along my ribcage, and skims the line of my hip. Each touch feels like a question he’s asking without words.
“This damn nightgown is covering too much,” he complains against my mouth.
“Then take it off.”
He sits back on his heels and pulls the fabric over my head. Then, I’m completely bare underneath him. His gaze travels over every inch of me like he’s memorizing the sight.
“Perfect.” He leans down and takes my nipple into his mouth. The wet heat makes me arch off the bed. His tongue circles the sensitive peak, teasing it, then scraping his teeth gently across the tip as I gasp.
He repeats the action on the other breast. Slower this time, and more thorough. Like he’s savoring every moment.
Each pull of his mouth sends sparks straight to my core. I’m soaking wet and aching for him.
“Please,” I whimper.
“Please what?” He releases my breast and looks up at me. “Tell me what you want, Zaika.”
“Touch me.”
“I am touching you.”
“You know what I mean.”
He grins. The bastard is enjoying this. “Say it.”
“Touch me between my legs. Make me come. Stop being an ass about it.”
He laughs, and the sound rumbles through his chest. “Since you asked so nicely.”
He kisses his way down my stomach, taking his time as his tongue glides over my skin. When he reaches my hip bone, he bites down gently, and I suck in a gasp.
He grips my thighs and spreads them apart before he positions himself between my legs. The first stroke of his tongue makes me moan.
“Look at me,” he commands.
I force my eyes open and meet his gaze. He maintains eye contact as he licks me again, slowly and thoroughly.
My hips buck, and he presses one hand against my lower abdomen to hold me still while his tongue works magic between my legs.
“Alexei—”
“I’ve got you.”
He slides two fingers inside me while his mouth focuses on the bundle of nerves that makes my vision swim. The dual sensation pushes me closer to the edge with each passing second. He pumps his fingers in and out, matching the rhythm with his tongue.
“Don’t stop,” I beg. “Please, don’t stop.”
He increases the pressure and speed as he curls his fingers inside me. His tongue flicks without mercy.
The orgasm crashes through me without warning. I cry out his name as waves of pleasure roll through my body. He continues working me through it until I’m trembling and oversensitive and pushing at his shoulders.
He crawls back up my body and kisses me. I taste myself on his lips, and the intimacy of the action makes my heart clench.
“I need to be inside you,” he pleads against my mouth.
“Yes,” I urge him.
He reaches down and frees himself from his boxers before he presses against my entrance and pushes in so slowly that I want to scream.
“You’re killing me,” I gasp.
“Good.” He pushes deeper. “I want you to feel every inch of me.”
He sinks all the way in and bottoms out, and we both groan at the sensation. He stays still for a moment to let me adjust and let us both feel the connection.
And then, he pulls back almost all the way out before driving forward again, setting a rhythm that’s tender and consuming. Each thrust goes deep, and his hips roll in a way that hits every sensitive spot inside me.
I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him closer. Our bodies move together like we’ve been doing this for years instead of weeks. Like we were made for this. For each other.
“Look at me,” he tells me again.
I open my eyes and find him watching me with something between wonder and fear and need.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he admits.
“Do what?”
“Feel this much. Want this much. Need this much.”
My chest constricts. “We’ll figure it out together.”
He kisses me hard, pouring everything he can’t say into the connection between us. He snaps his hips faster and harder. The headboard thuds against the wall, but neither of us cares if his brother and Katya hear.
A second orgasm builds at the base of my spine and spreads through me. I shatter around him with a cry. He follows seconds later, buries himself deep, and groans my name as he comes. His body shudders with release.
We collapse in a tangle of limbs and sweat-slicked skin. Our breathing slowly returns to normal. He stays inside me for a while before finally pulling out.
He rolls to the side and pulls me against his chest. I rest my head over his heart and listen to the steady rhythm to what has become my favorite sound in the world.
He kisses the top of my head and breaks the quiet. “I meant what I said earlier.”
“About what?”
“Not knowing how to do this. How to feel what I feel for you.”
I tilt my head up to look at him. “What do you feel?”
He stays quiet for so long, I think he won’t answer. Then he speaks. “More than I should. More than is safe. More than I thought possible.” He strokes my hair back from my face. “I’m not good with words. I never have been, but what I feel for you scares the hell out of me.”
“Why?”
“Because caring about someone makes you vulnerable. Gives enemies a target.”
I reach up and touch his face. Trace the line of his jaw. “I feel it, too, and it scares me, too. I don’t know how to want someone this much and survive losing them.”
He captures my hand and presses a kiss to my palm. “You’re not going to lose me.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can try.” His voice roughens. “I will try. Every single day.”
I sink back against his chest and close my eyes, letting his warmth surround and protect me as his heartbeat thuds steadily beneath my ear.
For the first time in months, I feel genuinely safe. Like maybe we can survive this and build something real from all this chaos and violence and fear.
Sleep pulls me under. My limbs grow heavy, and my breathing slows. His fingers continue their gentle path across my skin.
Then, gunfire cracks through the night.