Page 25

Aria

At some point last night, Daniil carried me upstairs to his room and laid me down on the bed.

I fully expected him to leave me there and walk away like he has every night before this one, but he surprised me by climbing in right beside me and pulling me half on top of him so I could fall back asleep with his steady heartbeat as my pillow.

With the morning light now shining through the thin curtains, I carefully sneak out of bed to use the bathroom.

While in there, I take off my necklace, diamond bra, and my new favorite panties, and place them on the chair in the corner of the room before joining Daniil again.

He's flipped over onto his stomach, and with the sheet and blanket down around his hips, I take the opportunity to look at his back again.

I was in shock when he turned around in the basement and I saw his scars up close, all while trying to process what he was telling me.

But now, in the soft, early morning light, tears flood my eyes as I look at what his father did to him.

He was just a child.

The pain he must’ve been in for years as he repeatedly endured the torture, with no chance for old wounds to heal before more were issued.

He had to have been in agony.

Not many men, let alone a child, would step in and take the abuse so his mom and brothers didn’t have to.

I would never view such a visual depiction of strength and love as something that makes him ugly.

They’re beautiful for what they represent – his sacrifice.

He said he doesn’t want my pity, but I don’t know if he believed me when I said I didn’t pity him.

He’s too strong to ever be pitiable.

Climbing onto the bed slowly and carefully, I start to place gentle kisses over his scars.

I wish I could kiss them away. The visible ones, at least. None of us will ever escape the scars we carry around covering our mind, heart, and soul, but we don’t all have to bear the physical scars for the world to see. Daniil sees them as a visual reminder of what he thinks is weakness, and I want to take that away for him.

Daniil begins to stir, but I continue to kiss his scars, and he freezes when he realizes what I’m doing. “Aria,”

he chokes out, his face turned away from me and half buried in the pillows.

“Shh, let me,”

I whisper, and continue with my journey. His body slowly relaxes under my care, and when I’ve given attention to every inch of every scar, he’s completely at ease.

Daniil rolls on top of me and slides right inside me, his strong arms flexing beside my head, framing me in his artwork. I can see the war of emotions on his face and in his eyes. He wants to say something, but when he opens his mouth, he closes it right away and furrows his brows.

I cup his face.

“You don’t have to say anything, Daniil. Just keep going. Fuck me. Show me.”

And he does.

He fucks me hard, but with intent. He’s proving something to me. He’s telling me everything I need to hear without saying a single word. Just like last night.

Daniil’s intense blue eyes are glowing down at me.

He feels it, too. The shift. The more between us that’s been building from the moment we locked eyes in the club. The more we needed in our lives like a lifeline thrown to us as we drifted along our everyday lives, needing to escape the current.

I’m sore from last night, but I don’t care. I need this. He needs this. We need this.

My orgasm is slow to build, but crashes through me with a ferocity that has my breath leaving me and my mouth open in a silent scream as my body is broken apart and put together by the man I am completely in love with.

Daniil pulls out of me and groans, his cum spilling on my stomach.

“I wish you could come inside me,”

I say without thinking, then press my lips together so I don’t let anymore confessions slip out. What possessed me to admit that, I have no idea. I’m not on birth control, and telling a man I’ve known for less than a week that I want him to come inside me when the result of that has the possibility of tying us together for life, is insane.

Daniil brushes his fingers across my cheek and leans down so his lips are practically on mine when he says, “Me too.”

Then he kisses me until my heart is squeezed to its limit and I’m so dizzy I think I’m going to pass out.