Page 46 of Vendetta Crown

I press my lips against his, gently at first, then with growing conviction. Not from passion, but from gratitude. From certainty.

I feel Ruslan kiss me back with surprising lightness, his lips barely grazing mine as if he's afraid I might shatter beneath his touch. The tenderness almost breaks my heart.

This powerful man who rules an empire of violence treating me like delicate glass.

I won't have it.

I deepen the kiss, pressing myself closer until our bodies align perfectly. My hand slides down his chest, feeling the ridge of each tattooed muscle and every scar.

My fingers trace over his healing bullet wounds.

His breath hitches when I reach his stomach and continue moving lower, his muscles contracting under my touch.

"Aurora," he breaks the kiss, voice thick with want but eyes clouded with concern. "Are you sure about this? You're still healing, and I don't want to hurt you."

The bruises from Kristofer's hands still mark my skin—green-yellow patches on my thighs, my breasts, my shoulders. The bite mark on my shoulder throbs dully, a reminder of what almost happened.

But looking into Ruslan's worried golden eyes, I've never been more certain of anything.

"You won't hurt me," I whisper, guiding his hand to rest on my hip, right over one of the bruises. "And these marks aren't signs of weakness, Ruslan. They're proof of my survival."

I lean forward until my forehead touches his, our breath mingling in the space between us.

"Just because I have them doesn't mean I'm broken." My voice strengthens with conviction. "I lived through what happened. I escaped. I came back to you the same way you came back to me."

His eyes search mine, looking for any hint of hesitation.

I press his hand harder against the bruise, feeling the dull ache that confirms my existence, my strength.

"I want to feel alive with you, Ruslan." My fingers trace the outline of his jaw. "I want to feel you—not him, not the past, not the fear. Just you. Just us."

"Are you sure?" Ruslan asks, his voice so tender it nearly brings tears to my eyes.

"I am." My hands frame his face, thumbs tracing his cheekbones. "Make love to me, Ruslan. Please."

He captures my lips with his, the kiss still careful but stronger than before. His hesitation is melting. I can feel it in the way his mouth moves against mine and in how his hands tighten slightly at my waist.

I lean into him, shifting my weight until I'm straddling his lap. The thin fabric of my nightgown rides up my thighs as I settle against him. His warmth seeps through me, chasing away the coldness that's been lingering since Vegas.

When he breaks the kiss, I take his hand in mine and bring it to my lips. I kiss each finger reverently. These hands have killed for me. And now, they're bringing me back from the brink.

His golden eyes never leave mine as I press my lips to his tattooed knuckles, his palm, his wrist.

The intensity in his gaze steals my breath.

Slowly, he sits up, gathering me in his powerful arms like I'm something precious. Something worth protecting. He lowers his head and plants soft, gentle kisses along my collarbone where the bruises are darkest. Each press of his lips feels like healing, like he's reclaiming my body from the violence that marked it.

When he reaches the bite mark on my shoulder, I shiver involuntarily.

"You're safe now,zarechka," he murmurs against my skin.

This is exactly what I wanted. To be cherished like this. To be loved. To have a man like Ruslan chase away the icy ghosts haunting my heart with nothing but his warmth and tenderness.

My hands slide down his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. I don't stop until I reach between us, taking his cock in my hand, feeling it grow harder under my touch. He inhales sharply, his eyes darkening with desire.

I lean forward and kiss Ruslan deeply, pouring every ounce of my need into it. This time, he doesn't hold back. His hesitation melts away as his hand finds the back of my neck, strong fingers cradling me close to him.

"Aurora," he groans, his voice catching on my name.

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