27. Damian #2
"You already are what I need," she tells me with such conviction that I almost believe her. "You just have to stop running from it."
"I'm not good at… feelings. At talking about this stuff." It's an understatement. I've spent my entire adult life avoiding anything that resembles emotional vulnerability.
Despite everything, she smiles. "I've noticed. But you don't have to be perfect, Damian. You just have to be willing to try."
Willing to try. I've spent so long convinced that I couldn't have this, that I didn't deserve it, that I never considered the possibility of just… trying.
Slowly, carefully, I reach up to cup her face with my free hand. Her skin is soft under my palm, and I brush my thumb across her cheekbone, wiping away a tear I didn't realize had fallen.
"I love you," I say quietly, and the words feel like a breath I’ve been holding, like I can finally take in air again now that I’ve said them out loud.
"God help me, I love you so much it scares the hell out of me.
" I can hear my heart beating hard, the machine beeping faster now. “But I do, Sienna. I love you.”
Her smile spreads across her face, radiant and beautiful. "Good. Because I love you too."
"I was wrong," I continue, the words coming easier now. "I was wrong to walk away from you. I was wrong to think I could just… turn this off. Turn you off. "
"You can't get rid of me that easily," she teases, but there are tears in her voice. She bites her lip, her gaze never leaving mine.
"I don't want to get rid of you," I say fiercely, meaning every word. "I never wanted to get rid of you. I just... I was so afraid of fucking this up. Of hurting you."
"The only way you can hurt me is by leaving.” Sienna swallows hard, her hand reaching up to touch mine. "By giving up on us."
"I won't," I promise, and I feel something shift inside me, something that's been locked away for years finally breaking free. "I promise you, Sienna. I won't walk away from you again. From us."
I see something wobble in her expression, a flicker of fear in trusting what I’m saying. "You mean that?" she whispers tremulously.
"I mean it." I slide my hand into her hair, fingers tangling in the silky strands. "I'm done running."
“Good,” she whispers. “Because all I want is for us to be happy. Together .”
"I'm happy right now," I murmur, still stroking her cheek, and I’m surprised by just how true it is.
She leans down and kisses me, soft and gentle, and I taste salt from her tears mixed with the sweet taste of her lips.
I feel like I can’t breathe. I thought I’d never kiss her again, that I’d never feel her touch again, and now…
now she wants it to be forever. Now I’ve admitted that I want it to be forever, too.
It still feels hard to believe, completely.
When we break apart, I can see her breath catch. "Marry me," I say suddenly, the words spilling out before I can stop them.
She blinks at me in confusion. "We're already married."
"No, I mean really marry me. Not because you have to, not because it's the only way to keep you safe.
Marry me because you want to. Because you choose to.
" I trace her lower lip with my thumb, pressing down slightly and seeing her breath catch again.
"Marry me with a real ceremony, with a dress and flowers and all that shit you deserve. "
Her eyes fill with tears again, but these are different. These are happy tears. I can see the difference in the way she smiles, in the way she leans into my touch.
"Damian, I don’t need?—"
“I know,” I tell her firmly. “But you deserve it. And I know I’m not supposed to tell you what you deserve, but this time, I know I’m right.”
"Are you proposing to me in a hospital bed?" she asks, and I can hear laughter in her voice.
"Is that a problem?"
“No,” she says, laughing and wiping away her tears. “It fits. It really does.”
"So is that a yes?"
Instead of answering with words, she kisses me again, deeper this time, and I can feel her answer in the way her lips move against mine, in the way her fingers tighten in my hair. Heat floods through me despite my injuries, despite the tubes and wires surrounding us.
"Sienna," I breathe against her lips, need making my voice rough. Miraculously, despite the pain and the countless drugs I’m probably being pumped full of, I can feel my cock stiffening instantly, as hard for her as I always am.
My hand slides down to grip her waist, and despite the fire in my chest, despite everything trying to keep us apart, I need her closer. The relief of knowing she's here, that she loves me, that we're going to make this work—it's making me dizzy with want.
"I need you," I growl, my voice rough with desperation. "I need to feel you, to know this is real."
"Damian, you're hurt?—"
"I don't care." My grip tightens, and I start to pull her toward me. "I almost died tonight thinking I'd never get to touch you again. I need this. I need you."
She should be the responsible one, should remind me about my injuries and the fact that we're in a hospital. But something in my voice, in my eyes, must convince her—or maybe it’s just that she wants me as badly as I want her—because she allows me to pull her onto the narrow hospital bed .
It's awkward and uncomfortable, and I can see her trying to be careful of my bandages and the IV in my arm, but the moment she's pressed against my side, something settles in my chest that's been twisted up all night.
"Better?" she asks softly.
"Much." I tighten my arm around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "But I want more."
"Damian—"
"I need you," I murmur against her hair, breathing in her scent. "Right now. In this bed. Let me show you how much I love you."
I feel her shiver against me, and I know she's considering it.
My cock is rock-hard, throbbing with need for her, and I tug her closer, urging her to straddle me.
I know it's crazy. We're in a hospital, for fuck's sake.
I was shot less than twelve hours ago. But there's something about almost losing her, about finally admitting how I feel, that makes all rational thought disappear.
I yank the blanket down with one hand, palming my cock free, and Sienna lets out a small gasp of surprise. “Unless you want the nurse to come in here and see your husband’s cock,” I growl, “I suggest you get on it and make me come, zhena . Your husband needs you.”
“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow, biting her lip. “Well…”
She slides over me, reaching with one hand to nudge her dress up her thighs.
When she pulls her panties to one side, angling my cock between her thighs, I groan, the sound vibrating through my chest as I pull her down to kiss me.
I devour her mouth, all the pain forgotten as I feel her wet heat against me, her hand deftly sliding my cockhead through her folds as she gets me wet for her.
“Aren’t you worried I’m not ready enough?” she teases, and I glare up at her.
“You’re the one who always says you need it right away. That you can take it. Prove it, dikaya koshka . My little wildcat. Take my cock right here.”
Her eyebrows rise, the challenge accepted as she lowers herself onto my cock.
A groan tears from my lips at the feeling of her surrounding me, so fucking tight, so hot, like wet silk clasped around my aching shaft.
My balls tighten instantly, ready to come in her before she’s even dropped all the way onto me.
My hands are everywhere I can reach, despite my position, sliding under her dress to touch bare skin, making her gasp and arch against me. She's trying to be careful of my injuries, but I don't want careful. I want her wild and desperate and mine .
"I love you," I murmur against her lips as I pull her down to kiss me again. "I love you so fucking much." I slide my hand to just above where we’re joined, finding her clit as she rocks against me, her pussy tightening around my cock as she lets out a soft moan.
“I love you too,” she breathes. “And I—oh my god, I can’t believe we’re doing this, Damian.”
“I can. This is how much I fucking want you, zhena .” I raise my hips slightly, meeting her as she bounces on me in slight, easy movements.
"Are you sure you're okay?" she asks, pausing when she sees me wince slightly as she moves.
"I'm fine," I say firmly, because I am. Pain is nothing compared to the need to be with her like this. "Better than fine. Perfect."
And then we're moving together, careful but desperate, and I'm lost in the heat of her skin, the way she feels wrapped around me, touching me everywhere that she’s able to.
Choosing me, choosing us, the two of us fighting for each other, for our future.
Nothing could keep us apart, not even a bullet, not even me.
I'm lost in the sight of her, in the feeling of being connected to her like this, my orgasm rapidly approaching as I stroke her clit feverishly, when the heart monitor starts going crazy. The steady beeping becomes rapid and erratic, and suddenly, alarms are sounding.
"Shit," Sienna gasps, starting to pull away, but my hands tighten on her hips.
"Don't stop," I growl, my vision slightly hazy with need and possibly the overuse of my injured body. "Don't you dare stop."
"But the monitors?— "
"I don't care about the fucking monitors. I’m so fucking close, and you’re going to come with me when I?—"
The door bursts open, and a nurse rushes in, stopping short when she sees us tangled together on the bed. Her eyes go wide, and she makes a sound of shock that would be funny under any other circumstances.
"Sir, you need to—The monitors are—What are you?—"
"Get out," I snarl without taking my eyes off Sienna, putting every ounce of authority and menace I possess into the words.
The nurse goes slightly pale. "But the alarms?—"
"Get. Out." I enunciate each word clearly, using the voice that's made grown men piss themselves in fear. "I'm busy with my wife."
The nurse looks like she's caught between doing her job and preserving her life. The alarms are still sounding, and I'm sure we look absolutely ridiculous, but I don't give a shit.
"The heart monitor—" she tries again weakly.
"Is working perfectly fine," I say, never breaking eye contact with the woman above me. "My heart rate is elevated because I'm making love to my wife. Now get the fuck out of my room."
Despite everything—the embarrassment, the alarms, the absurdity of the situation—Sienna starts to laugh. The sound is infectious, bubbling up from somewhere deep in her chest, and I feel my own lips twitch with suppressed laughter.
"You're insane," she whispers, still giggling, still perched on my cock. It twitches inside of her, and she gasps.
The nurse backs toward the door. "I'll… I'll just turn off the alarms," she mutters. "But if anything happens?—"
"Nothing's going to happen except that I’m about to give my wife an orgasm," I say firmly. "Now close the door behind you."
She does, practically fleeing the room, and suddenly we're alone again with only the sound of our breathing and Sienna's continued laughter.
"I can't believe you just did that," she says, burying her face in my neck .
"I can't believe you're laughing at me when I'm trying to be romantic."
"Romantic?" She lifts her head to look at me, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "You just told a nurse to get out because you were busy with your wife, while we were literally in the middle of?—"
"Making love," I finish. "Making love to my wife. Who, by the way, still hasn't given me a proper answer to my proposal."
She looks down at me with an expression of wonder, like she can't quite believe this is real. Neither can I, honestly. But looking at her now, feeling the love radiating from her, I know with absolute certainty that this is what I want for the rest of my life.
"Yes," she says simply, her hands reaching up to touch my face as she rocks gently on me. “Yes, Damian.”
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, I'll marry you again. Yes, I want the ceremony and the dress and all of it. Yes, I choose you, Damian Kuznetsov, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, for as long as we both shall live."
“Fuck.” I reach for her, pulling her down for a kiss as I resume the strokes of my fingers between her legs, relishing the moan that spills out against my mouth. “Come for me, zhena . Come for me, before I?—”
“I love you,” she breathes against my lips, and suddenly the pleasure races up my spine, devouring me, a climax hitting me before I can stop myself.
My cock throbs and twitches inside of her, the first explosive spurt of cum making me groan violently against her mouth, and I feel her shudder and hear her moan as she comes apart too, grinding against my hips as she rides me through my climax and hers.
She breaks the kiss, panting softly as she looks down at me. "I love you, Mrs. Kutnezsov," I murmur, and she smiles, her forehead touching mine as we lie there, wrapped together in the hospital bed.
"I love you too, Mr. Kutnezsov."
And then she's kissing me again, and I'm lost in her, in us, in the promise of everything we're going to build together. We started this marriage as strangers, but we’re beginning it again as partners who chose each other, fought for each other, and won.
The future stretches out before us, full of possibility and hope and love. And for the first time in my life, I see happiness in front of me, and I believe in it.
I believe in her.
In us.
Finally, and forever.