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I love it.
I lick his chest as he pants. “Fuck Elara, you make me crazy.”
“I love you.” I abruptly reply, desperation lacing every word and his eyes widen.
He jerks away from me, his cock sliding out in a rapid motion causing me to hiss.
“You don’t love me.” His gaze settles on my pussy where his cum trickles, forming a wet patch beneath me.
His fingers shove it back in, an unhinged look crosses his face at the sight.
“I love you.” I retort back and sit upright. “I love you.” I repeat. “I love—”
“It’s not love.” He mumbles, almost to himself.
“How do you know what I feel for you?” I choke out. “I will die for you, Sergei. I will kill for you.”
“Not love. Love demands pain.” He grunts, his gaze stuck on the wet spot between us, a possessive glint simmering in his brown orbs. “My father loved Mama but he beat her, Elara.” He lastly looks up.
“He’d beat her every day and tell her how much he loves her. Then he’d beat me, he’d break my bones and tell me he loves me. What we have is not love.” He explains and my heart shatters into million different pieces for him.
“I won’t survive it if I ever hurt you.” His fear stems from the trauma he went through. But he’s far from the truth.
“You’re not him, Sergei.” I cup his face, but he’s already shaking his head. “Sergei, look at me.” I force him to look up and take his trembling hands in mine. “Does the thought of hurting me excite you?”
He all but recoils as if I’ve struck him physically. The horror in his eyes is all the answer I need and I give him a small smile.
“Fuck, no Elara. I would nev—I could never baby.”
“See? You’re not your father.” My thumb brushes his knuckles in soothing circles.
“But my m-mama—”
“S-Sergei, that was abuse, that was oppression. Your heart and mine beating in the same rhythm,” I place my hand on his chest, “that’s love. I cannot breathe without you, you’re my air.”
He looks down at my hand covering the middle of his chest.
“Love demands warmth, love demands understanding, love demands affection.” I reply. “And I love you with all that I am, I love you like I want to be loved and I love you for every way you’ve loved me.”
“B-but I have scars.”
“So do I, Sergei.”
"But I am weak.”
“Then I’ll be weak with you.” A tear slides down my cheek as the clock ticks above us, painfully fast and unforgiving, every tick echoing as a warning I’m trying so hard to ignore.
“We cannot talk about our scars in one breath, baby. They are worlds apart.” His voice is low as he cups my face, wiping the tears off.
“I may not know how to love myself but I’ve never doubted how deeply I love you.” I sob, my throaty voice full of emotion cracks in between. “I love you, Sergei. You don’t have to say it back, just you knowing it is enough.”
THIRTY-FIVE
Sergei
My heart drops the moment I wake up alone.
The pounding in my chest turns violent when I find the other side of my bed empty.
