Chapter 31 – Ellie
“Can you stop?” I groan, swatting Mike’s arm as his hand slips under the hem of my skirt.
He only chuckles behind me.
It’s been months since the hardest time of our lives, and little by little, things are settling into something that almost resembles normal again.
Almost.
I’ve returned to my position at the university.
Walking through those halls again felt strange at first—like stepping back into a life that belonged to someone else.
My reputation may have been cleared publicly, but rumors have a longer lifespan than truth.
Some people still whisper. Some still look at me like I’m a scandal waiting to happen.
But I refuse to let that chase me away.
This is a job I love too much to abandon. The research, the quiet thrill of discovery—I won’t let anyone bully me into giving it up.
Besides, the life waiting for me outside those walls is more than enough to steady me.
My husband.
My best friend.
My new family.
What strangers think about me no longer holds the power it once did. I know who I am. That’s enough.
“Just five minutes,” Mike murmurs behind me, his voice low and shamelessly persuasive as he presses me lightly against the wall.
I roll my eyes at my reflection in the mirror.
I just finished applying my lipstick. My car is already waiting outside to take me to campus, and yet somehow this man has decided now is the perfect time to become impossible.
“Mike,” I warn, trying—and failing—to sound stern.
He doesn’t move.
If anything, he leans closer.
Ever since everything ended, he’s been more affectionate than usual. As if surviving that nightmare together flipped some invisible switch inside him. He touches me more, watches me more, like he’s reassuring himself I’m still here.
But today?
Today, he’s being downright ferocious.
His hands settle at my waist, pulling me back against him with a confidence that sends a warm shiver down my spine.
“You’re going to make me late,” I mutter.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he replies lazily.
I turn my head slightly, catching the playful gleam in his eyes.
He looks entirely too pleased with himself.
I sigh dramatically, though the smile tugging at my lips gives me away.
“This is harassment,” I inform him.
“From your husband?” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Highly unlikely.”
He finally loosens his hold just enough for me to turn around, and the moment I face him, he steals a quick kiss, completely unapologetic.
The warmth in my chest blooms instantly.
For all the chaos we survived…for all the darkness we walked through….
Moments like this feel like quiet miracles.
Normal life.
Peace.
And the man in front of me—still maddening, still stubborn, still impossibly devoted—is the reason I get to have it.
“Fine.” I roll my eyes, trying to maintain a playful defiance even as my heart hammers against my ribs. “But only for a few minutes. And don’t mess up my makeup.”
He’s on me before I can change my mind, his movement a blur of calculated intent.
He presses me back against the wall, the solid strength of his body pinning me in place.
He trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down the sensitive column of my neck, his breath ghosting over my skin and sending a violent shiver through me.
His hands, rough and warm, move with a practiced urgency.
They find the hem of my skirt, carefully bunching the fabric upward until it rests at my waist. I feel the cool air hit my thighs for only a second before he yanks down my panties, his knuckles grazing my hips.
I shut my eyes, my head thumping back against the wall, allowing his ministrations to sway me into a familiar, heavy desire.
He doesn’t stop at the neck; his mouth moves to my shoulder, his teeth grazing the skin just enough to make me moan. One hand stays on my hip, anchoring me, while the other slides between us. His fingers brush against my center, already slick and aching for him.
“You’re always so ready for me, Ellie,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice a dark, vibrating low.
I reach out, my fingers curling into his hair, pulling him closer.
The playfulness is gone, replaced by a raw, immediate need that burns through my initial hesitation.
I don’t care about the time or the makeup anymore.
I just need him to fill the space between us, to claim me once again in the way only he can.
Then, he enters me slowly, his body a heavy weight that stretches me inch by inch. The pace is maddening—a torturous crawl that forces me to feel every ridge, every pulse, and every tightening muscle as he slides deep inside.
“Mike, please,” I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders, my knuckles white with the strain of holding on. “Hurry. I need you to move.”
“No,” he murmurs against my jaw, his voice thick with a dark, controlled patience. “I want to take my time. I want to feel every bit of you.”
He pulls out, almost entirely, leaving me cold and aching for the contact, before he slams back in.
But even the slam is executed in slow motion, a punishingly gradual invasion that makes my toes curl and my breath hitch in my throat.
It’s a rhythmic, agonizing stretch that builds a pressure in my core I can’t escape.
I’m a mess. My head thrashes against the wall, my hair sticking to my damp forehead as I let out a broken, high-pitched moan. I try to thrust my hips back to meet him, to force a faster rhythm, but he keeps his hands locked on my waist, pinning me to his preferred tempo.
“Look at me, Ellie,” he commands, his eyes burning into mine, dark with a hunger he’s barely restraining.
I open my eyes, my vision blurred by tears of frustration and pleasure.
He watches the way my expression shatters with every agonizingly slow stroke.
He’s ruining me, stripping away my composure until I’m nothing but raw nerves and desperate whimpers, trapped in the slow-burning fire he’s ignited between us.
Without warning, his control snaps. He suddenly increases his tempo, the slow, agonizing torture replaced by a fierce, driving energy.
He pounds into me, his hips slamming against mine with a heavy, rhythmic thud that echoes through the small space.
I scream, the sound ripped from my lungs as the sudden change in pace sends me spiraling over the edge.
He’s relentless, his breath coming in jagged hitches as he drives deep, over and over, until the world dissolves into a blur of heat and friction.
The pressure builds to an impossible peak, and then we both shatter.
We orgasm together, a violent, bone-shattering collision of pleasure that leaves us both gasping and clinging to each other for support against the wall.
As the waves of the climax slowly recede, I regain my breath, though my legs are still trembling. I pull away with a small, breathless laugh, realizing we’ve completely blown past those “few minutes” I promised.
“My makeup is definitely ruined now,” I mutter, though there’s no real bite in it.
I hurry into the bathroom for a quick wash-up, the cool water a sharp contrast to the lingering heat on my skin.
I catch my reflection in the mirror—flushed, hair a mess, and eyes bright.
I quickly tidy myself, smoothing my skirt and fixing what I can, trying to regain some semblance of the composed woman I was before he decided to remind me exactly who I belong to.
Afterward, Mike walks me downstairs to the waiting car, his hand resting at the small of my back like it belongs there.
He opens the door for me and waits until I slide inside.
“If anything happens,” he says, his tone turning serious for a moment, “you call me immediately.”
I smile softly.
It’s his mantra now.
Even though nothing has happened in months. Even though life has finally settled into something calm and predictable again.
“I will,” I promise.
He leans down, pressing one last kiss to my lips before closing the door.
As the car pulls away, I watch him in the side mirror, standing there with his hands in his pockets, still looking at me like I’m something precious he refuses to lose again.
For the first time in a long time, I allow myself to believe it.
We’re safe.
We can live like normal people now.
I don’t measure my life by what was taken from me anymore.
I measure it by what I’ve built.
I’m still driving when my phone buzzes beside me.
I grab it quickly, assuming it’s Mike doing one of his usual check-ins. The man has become absolutely insufferable when it comes to my safety.
But the message on the screen makes me pause.
It’s encrypted.
And when I read it, a small laugh escapes me.
The message is short. Sharp.
You chose love over power. Let’s see how long it lasts.
I roll my eyes, leaning back in my seat.
Katerina.
It has to be.
But strangely, I don’t feel the surge of fear I once would have. No cold panic crawling up my spine.
Just mild annoyance.
She’s barking.
Her bite is gone.
There’s nothing she can do anymore.
Still…when I get home later, I’ll mention it to Mike. Just in case. He’ll probably go into full protective-warrior mode again.
My phone buzzes a second time.
I glance down at the screen—and my entire mood shifts.
This one is from Mike.
I forgot to tell you I love you so much. But don’t worry. When you return home, I’ll show you.
A laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it.
I shake my head, setting the phone down on the console.
Does this man ever get tired? No.
And I never want him to.