Page 55 of The Crimson Lily
I understand now why Maksim always sleeps alone. It’s not because of his fear of doing something to me in his sleep; it’s because, for this first time in his life, Maksim lets his guard down, and I can let myself in.
The last image I see before opening my eyes is of my parents’ faces—my mother has William’s hair, red as a lion’s mane, and my father wears his uniform.
It brings soothing tears to my eyes, seeing them so peaceful, in the golden light of a beautiful sunrise.
I guess this is my solace after the tumults of this closing chapter.
Maksim takes me in his arms when he wakes, and I raise my eyes to meet the blue of his. I pause just to delve into them and lose myself. Here and now, I know exactly what I want—to get out of this life and live yet another one, with him by my side.
“I want to move to Paris,” I state in a small voice.
I don’t even realize what I’ve said until I dot my sentence with a simper, representing a pretty please . He caresses the side of my face and tucks a wild blond lock behind my ear. He says nothing, then I realize I didn’t actually ask a question.
“Will you come with me?” I pose.
“We should go back to New York first,” he advises.
I purse my lips together and pop them after a few seconds of pondering.
“What about after we’re done in New York?” I wonder.
He smiles and presses his lips gently against mine for a short but gratifying kiss.
“Let me take care of some things first,” he begins. “Then I’ll have something arranged.”
Of course there’s a quest to complete. The Kinzhal Strastey needs to return to the Bratva before Maksim and I can plan out our lives. Will the Bratva let Maksim go? Is there even such a thing as an international Bratva transfer?
I notice the bandage around Maksim’s hand, covering the cut that a glass dagger’s blade most probably made last night.
It makes me smirk, recalling what he did to me.
How good it felt to be totally submissive, to be compelled and admit something I never dared to.
How dangerous and a little twisted it is…
“Béatrice said they had a position for me in her department.” I elaborate on why Paris . “I was thinking of getting an apartment, and you could…?move in.”
I wait to see how he’ll react to that last part. Instead of dismissing or embracing it, he raises an eyebrow, a little confused.
“I have a place in Paris,” he says.
I chuckle. “That place is a little too much for me!”
It is. The Kavalyow vacation home is too luxurious, too fragile, too Renaissance.
Maksim squints. “You can”—his features cringe a little—“reorganize it…?if you want.”
Is he just giving me carte blanche on our future home?
And did I just call it our future home? The glee sprinkles over me like happy snowflakes, each fractal settling and sending those sweet shivers into my skin.
I bring a gentle hand to his chest and fiddle with the delicate hair in the crook.
I’m eager to see what this new life will bring, away from the past, from what happened and who I used to be.
“I have a feeling this is all far from over,” I admit. “William is gone, but the Syndicate is still active somewhere.”
Silence. Peaceful stillness, and no response from Maksim.
That man, my Belarusian man, still has many unknown facets that remain a mystery to me.
Perhaps they will always remain a mystery.
However, despite it all, despite not knowing half there is to know about this man, I’ve never felt safer in my entire life.
Maybe it’s his scent or the strong cage of his arms. Maybe it’s his sturdy allure and the certainty in every move he makes.
No, it must be Maksim’s ability to always be here when I need him most.
“I like this, Maksim,” I let escape, squeezing into his embrace. “I want this for the rest of my life.”
“Me too,” he simply says and kisses my forehead in the caring way he always does.
“When will we go back to New York?”
“Tomorrow morning.” Pause. “Is there anything you’d like to do today?” he asks—the kind of question he rarely asks.
I take a deep breath and my thoughts race, but I already know what I’ll answer.
“I want to see the Pantheon again.” Before continuing, I give him a soft kiss and complete it by looking at him with craving blue eyes.
“With you,” I add. I want him to take me to see Rome one last time, but I want something else first.
He taps my shoulder and gives me a smirk. “Let’s get ready then, zaya. ”
“Wait,” I say latching on to his firm arm. “Wouldn’t you like to do something else first?” I’m smirking too.
Maksim’s lips fold into a hungry smile, and the color of his eyes changes.
He comes to cover me and takes my lips. Not long after, he’s going at it, but slowly this time.
Gentle strokes that make me climb to ecstasy in a perfect crescendo.
He doesn’t hurt me. His hands remain hooked on to my shoulders, not around my wrists or my neck.
His teeth don’t sink into my skin. They stay sheathed in his lips that follow the track down my chest. Now is when I know, for sure, that Maksim is with me for the long run.
What we have is pure love, and I feel it deeper than anything I’ve felt before.
Ever. And it will be this way for the rest of my life.