Page 156 of Deceptive Vows

Her breasts bounce with every thrust, and I catch a glimpse of our reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows. The room captures the sight of us, flesh slapping against flesh, raw and primal, mixing the scent of sex and love.

It all hits me at once as well as the epiphany of what this woman means to me.

She is the light to my darkness.

The sun, moon, and stars in my sky.

I can’t bleed her from my mind because she’s the other half of my soul.

That’s the answer, and as long as I live, nothing will be truer than that.

44

Mikhail

“Are you nervous about later?” Natalia whispers against my chest. She runs her fingers over my skin, and I press my hand to hers.

We’re lying on the bed together. She’s cocooned in my arms.

I want to take her all over again, but we needed a break before the last round. The sun will be up soon, and the spell will be broken.

“I mean because you want to be Pakhan,” she adds. “Do you even get nervous?”

There’s a smile in her voice, which means part of her is healing. When you can smile again after loss, even just a little, it means pieces of your heart are coming back together to fill the hole grief left behind.

“Yes, I get nervous, and I am nervous about later. I want to be Pakhan. Few people in the brotherhood get this chance, and when it was offered to me, I wanted to do everything I could to seize the opportunity. So, yes, I’m fucking nervous I won’t get picked.” It’s been hard keeping what I suspect about Ivan from my father and Sophia. I knew knowing what I know would destroy him further, and I couldn’t do that without proof. I’m hours away from the time of reckoning and feel like a failure.

“I’m nervous about Ivan getting something he doesn’t deserve,” I add. “Something that will give him more power. But I’m also nervous because I worry there’ll be something I neglected to do that didn’t qualify me for the job.”

“You work hard, Mikhail. I’m not with you while you’re at the office, but I know you.”

I press her hand to my heart.

“I do work hard, baby.”

“Then trust in that.” She runs her hands through my hair and over my beard.

“You want me again.” I catch her face and beam down at the seductive stare she gives me.

“Yes. I’m trying to get what I can. It will be breakfast soon, and I’ll have to be jealous of the maids ogling my husband and speaking to him in a language I don’t understand.”

I brush my lips over her nose. “There was never anything to be jealous of. You and I speak our own language, one nobody else can understand.”

“We do,” she agrees, and we fall into a kiss again. Then each other.

Seconds after we climb down from the height of passion and pleasure, the sun pokes its head through the blanket of darkness and my heart sinks.

She looks, too, and knows the dawn of a new day means the enchantment has broken and we have to face a new reality.

We have one more sunrise I purposely won’t watch with her.

So, this is our last.

I can’t watch her like this again and suffer the temptation to keep her, nor the feeling of guilt that rides my soul every time I look at her.

I don’t want to feel like I’m not good enough for her.

Those who know better should do better, so this is me trying.