Page 109 of Vendetta Vows

Her fingertips trace the tattoos on my body, each one a reminder of the awful world I was born to. The awful world that I've been forced to return to.

The awful world that I will keep her safe from.

I deepen the kiss, my tongue finding hers. She tastes like the salt of her nightmare and something sweeter beneath.

Something that is uniquely her.

Something that she gives willingly only to me.

In this moment, with her wrapped in my arms, I understand what I've been denying since the night I first saw her in that alley. She isn't just someone to protect. She isn't just a convenient solution to my bratva problems.

She's becoming essential. Necessary.

"Zarechka," I breathe against her mouth, the endearment slipping out involuntarily.

Aurora breaks apart from our kiss, breath coming in soft pants that warm my skin. Her hazel eyes lock with mine, curious and searching.

"What does that mean? That word you keep calling me.Zarechka?"

I stroke her cheek with my thumb, feeling the dampness from her tears. Even with the evidence of her nightmare still present, she's beautiful. My throat tightens.

"It means 'little dawn' in Russian," I explain, my voice rough with emotion I hadn't intended to reveal. "At first, I gave you that nickname because it reminded me of your name, Aurora."

Her lips curve into a small smile.

"But now..." I pause, struggling with the admission. "In the time I've spent with you, I've come to realize that you are exactly that. A ray of light in my world. My little dawn after a very long night."

The words feel too honest, too vulnerable coming from me. In my world, such admissions are liabilities. Yet I can't bring myself to regret them when I see the way her eyes soften.

"I like that," she whispers, and then she's kissing me again.

This time, her kiss is more insistent, hungrier. Her hand, so small compared to mine, begins traveling down my chest and moving lower with each beat of my heart.

I try to focus on the sensations. Her mouth against mine, her tongue teasing, her palm flat against my abs. But my mind keeps circling back to the way she looked at me when I told her whatzarechkameant.

Like no one had ever given her a beautiful name before.

Like no one had ever seen her as something precious.

Her hand continues downward, past my navel, and my body responds immediately. My cock stirs to life beneath her touch, hardening against the thin fabric of my boxers.

I groan softly, instinctively pulling her closer.

For nineteen years, I've held myself back from any connection that could hurt like Leslie's death has hurt me. Nineteen years of keeping everyone at arm's length.

But with Aurora, all those carefully constructed walls come crashing down with just one touch.

I slip my hands beneath her silky robe, feeling her tremble at my touch. The fabric parts under my fingers like water, revealing her skin inch by precious inch. Her body radiates warmth as I pull her against me, skin to skin, nothing between us now but breath and heartbeats.

"Ruslan," she whispers, my name a sacred thing on her lips.

Her hazel eyes that haunted me from the moment I first saw her in that alley bore into mine. In them, I see everything she can't say aloud. The fear of being found. The pain of her past. The unexpected hope she's found with me.

With one hand, I cup her face, my thumb tracing the delicate curve of her cheekbone, and I kiss her.

Not with hunger or lust, but with reverence.

My other hand slides down the curve of her spine to the soft swell of her ass, kneading gently, pulling her hips flush against mine.

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