AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And two weeks with Grigory.
My mind flits back to the reality awaiting me. Two weeks with Grigory in my small apartment back in Denmark. Two weeks with this man I barely know, who I haven’t spent a single night with, let alone a whole day. I don’t know how the idea is supposed to help me, yet it does. Even as it ramps up my nerves, it settles something fundamental inside me.
Markus curves his hand around my nape and takes me in a deep kiss. For a moment, the stress and worry filter into the distance as he sweeps me away with passionate swirls of his tongue and mind-boggling possession of his hands.
Breaking off the kiss, he breathes hard against my lips. “I love you, Clara,” he whispers, and then the world hones back in, the airport, the people, the noise. “Be a good girl and do as Grigory says.”
With a nudge on my back, he spurs me into motion. My feet move automatically as I look over my shoulder and mouth the same words.I love you too.
Another hand presses against my back, urging me on toward the roped-in line leading to the security checkpoint. I stare straight ahead. It’s all I can donot to cry.
There’s hardly any waiting time, and before I know it, we’re at the checkpoint. I’m not sure if it’s the lack of sleep or the rush of emotions that makes my hands quiver as I open my shoulder bag and start rummaging for electronics.
A large hand stops me, accompanied by a deep voice. “I’ve got you.”
Lifting my gaze, I look at Grigory for the first time since uncertainty welled up inside me. His eyes are steady and calm, offering the same promise of protection as his words. And I believe them. How can I not?
I slowly draw back my hands and let him lift the shoulder bag over my head and place it on a tray. Without asking, he starts rummaging through it, fishing out my Kindle, power bank, and lip balm. Then he searches my jacket pockets to find my phone and keys.
It’s shockingly personal having him go through my things like this, but I don’t care. I’m just relieved to be rid of the task.
“Anything else?” he asks.
I give a slow shake of my head.I don’t think so.
He proceeds to lay out his own things in trays before guiding me up to the scanner and the uniformed men with hard expressions.
One of them waves for me to go ahead, but it’s Grigory’s hand nudging me forward that sets my legs into motion.
The tall scanner is like a portal to another world as I walk up to it. Halting right before it, I turn my head and search the space beyond the stanchion maze until I find Markus.
He’s watching me, a silent protector in the distance. With a nod, he urges me on, and my heart clenches as I step through the scanner, away from Markus, into an unknown world.
I have to fight the urge to look again. It will only aggravate the tightening sensation in my throat, and this is not the place to break down. So I move on to gather my things, hands quivering with restrained emotion as I reach for my shoulder bag.
Once again, large hands stop me. A breath shudders past my lips as Grigory presses his warm palm to my waist and takes my bag with the other. He’s so close I can feel the heat radiating off his body, surrounding me on all sides and wrapping me in the safety of his steady presence.
The next fifteen minutes pass in a blur as I sink into the lull of Grigory’s guidance. He makes it easy to follow along and let go of my thoughts as he gathers our things and leads me through the terminal with unwavering authority.
It’s only when I’m seated in the café area on the second floor, a tray full of food in front of me and Grigory at my side, that thoughts filter back in.
My eyes roam over the large space below us. The shops, the people, and long rows of plastic seats. The airport is relatively quiet this time of day, but the chaotic atmosphere remains, nonetheless. So I turn my eyes to something steadier. The man beside me.
Grigory is reading a newspaper, a real paper one, the kind you fold out into a large square before you, while sipping a cup of coffee.
God, it’s strange being here with him, just the two of us, in an airport. I’ve been alone with him before—at the piano, at dinner, in Markus’s bed even. But this is entirely different. Markus has always been close, physically or mentally. Now he’s out of reach, and I’m alone with this stern, unreadable man who holds the power to break me in the blink of an eye.
“Eat something,devochka.” Grigory slides his large hand onto my thigh, and I stare down at it. I can’t remember him touching me like this before, so casually without purpose—not to comfort, not to hurt. Just to touch.
I look back up when I feel his gaze on me, and my breath stutters at the sight of grave features framing dark, serious eyes.
Lowering his chin, he imbues his disposition with command. “If you don’t eat, I’ll have to feed you.” He closes his paper as if getting ready to do just that, and I know it’s not a threat. This man has no problem feeding a grown woman in the public space of an airport.
My stomach makes a little jump at the thought, sending warm currents of submissive desire through my body.Would I really like him to feed me?
No. Not here. There are too many spectators, and once he’s started, I don’t think he’d stop if I changed my mind. So I pick up a bread roll and start nibbling on it.
Grigory’s eyes don’t leave me. They keep searing into me with an intensity that makes it impossible to sit up straight. Submission has my head bowing in deference, speeding up my breath. He doesn’t even need to feed me to make me fall at his feet. A single glance and I’m like putty in his hands.
