I want to be the one to say it first. “I’ll pick a good spot to keep you safe.”
We both know she doesn’t need my protection, but her lips curve up all the same. “Yeah? Such a knight in shining armor.”
“Only for you.” I’m in unfamiliar territory, but I push forward. “Because I love you.”
With the words out in the air, my mind empties, my body lighter than it’s ever been.
I love her. Hell, I think I started falling in love with her when she attacked me in the parking garage that first night. I was just too broken to realize the truth.
She freezes, her eyes wide, her mouth dropping into a cute little “O.”
I couldn’t have shocked her more if I’d slapped her. Actually, a slap would probably be less surprising, given our history.
I’ve surprised myself, if I’m being honest.
I never thought I’d love someone. Not like this, not like her. Just weeks ago, I never would’ve thought I could say those words out loud.
But I do love her, and she deserves to know.
Fuck me, she’s not responding.
Not sure what else to do, so I kiss her, eliminating the last bit of space between us.
Her skin is like nothing I’ve ever touched. Smooth and scarred in places that tell stories I’ve yet to learn. For now, I trace each mark with my fingertips, my lips, my tongue, untilher breathing fractures and her control slips. She grips my shoulders, her short nails digging half-moons into my flesh.
When I finally enter her, the sensation—both physical and emotional—is almost too much. We’re on another level.
She watches as her entire body welcomes me like I belong with her.
After several long moments, she sighs against my skin and pulls me closer. “I love you, too, Max.” Her legs coil higher around my waist, changing the angle and taking me deeper. “I don’t think I can convey how much.”
I shiver, my chest blooming with a heady, distracting warmth.
She loves me too.
Anika Kozlov loves me.
How’d I get so fucking lucky?
Together, we final a slow, steady rhythm. We both know the destination, so we’re in no rush.
I brush my lips against her forehead, her cheekbones, the corner of her mouth. Gentle touches I didn’t know I was capable of before I met her.
Her eyes widen at the tenderness, her hands coming up to frame my face. “Stay with me. Right here.”
The vulnerability in the gesture nearly breaks me. “All the way to the end.”
We’ve both spent our lives avoiding connection and dependence on others. Yet here we are, watching it happen and choosing not to run.
This is exactly where I need to be.
As her breathing grows shallow and more ragged, my own composure frays.
Her eyes never leave mine when she comes. She doesn’t hide her face or close her eyes or look away. She stays present and lets me see her.
I follow her immediately, unable to maintain control when confronted with such honesty. Pouring into her, my rhythm falters, halts, and fades.
After, I collapse on top of Nika and gather her in my arms, rolling to the side so we can both breathe again.
