Page 80 of Shadows of the Past
They're already yours, I want to tell him. No matter what language spills from my lips in those moments, lost in pleasure, his name is always the anchor, the constant refrain. But the fact that he wants this, wants to understand the language of my birth, the words that sometimes escape when I'm completely undone…it creates a strange, fluttering warmth deep in my chest, threatening to burst. Is it possible for a heart to break from being too full?
His voice is still a low rumble against my ear as one of his hands slips beneath the hem of my nightgown, finding how much he affects me. That specific rasp in his voice, the one reserved for moments like these, unravels me completely.
"Hmm," he murmurs, his fingers finding my clit with unerring accuracy, "I think you woke up because you needed someone to touch you right here, amor."
A strangled sound escapes me, and I instinctively press myself harder against his hand, needing more, always needing more of him. It doesn’t matter how many times we do this, the craving to feel him skin-to-skin, joined, inseparable, is a constant, gnawing ache.
"Did you say something, Juls?" A low chuckle vibrates through his chest as he slides two fingers deep inside me, stretching me, filling me.
If I weren't so completely lost in the sensations overwhelming me, I might manage a clever retort. But right now, all I need is for him not to stop. I need him to keep doing exactly what he’s doing before I completely lose my mind.
"I wish you could see yourself right now, Julia." His voice, rough with his own need, somehow cuts through the haze, compelling me to open my eyes, to meet his intense gaze.
"How do I look?" I manage to ask, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
"Like you are irrevocably mine," he answers, his eyes blazing, and before I can respond, his mouth crashes down on mine, swallowing any words I might have uttered.
The desperate need inside me coils tighter, unbearable now, pulsing around his fingers. I break the kiss, gasping for air, my eyes locked on his. His pupils are blown wide, dark pools reflecting the dim light, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, his lips slightly parted as he breathes heavily. And yeah, he looks irrevocably mine, too. Marked by me, claimed by me. But I don't say it. Instead, I pull his head down again, pouring everything I can't verbalize into the kiss, and I know he understands when a low, guttural groan escapes him.
I feel the hard ridge of his erection pressed against my hip, insistent, demanding. The wave of heat crashes over me again, twice as strong this time. It's never enough with him. I could have him every day, lose myself in him for hours, and still crave more.
Shifting slightly, I lift myself just enough for his hands to impatiently shove down his sweatpants, freeing himself.Because he feels it too. This insatiable hunger between us, a fire that never quite burns out, no matter how much time we spend tangled together, lost in each other.
I position myself over him, finding the perfect angle, and without waiting, without hesitation, I sink down, taking him deep inside me. My hands grip the back of his chair for balance, my head thrown back as I gasp at the sheer intensity of being filled by him.
I feel the muscles in his thighs tense as he fights for control, trying to move slowly, deliberately. And in this moment, suspended between urgency and restraint, the realization hits me with startling clarity—how incredibly lucky we are, finding this sanctuary, this connection, in the midst of the relentless chaos surrounding us. That we have this, have each other. That after all these years, after everything we’ve endured, just being near him still sends frantic butterflies fluttering through my stomach. That nothing else compares to this feeling, this sensation of being physically, irrevocably one.
I watch him throw his head back against the chair, a thick vein pulsing in his neck, his hands digging into my hips, almost painfully tight, anchoring me to him.
"Julia," he grits out, his voice strained, "let go, baby. Come for me." He swallows hard, his control fraying.
I want to make this last, stretch out these precious moments, but it's like fighting against a tidal wave. My body yields to his command, surrendering completely. A choked cry rips from my throat as the climax crashes over me, intense and consuming, even as he continues to move within me, driving us both higher.
When the last pulse finally subsides, leaving me trembling and breathless, he presses soft, lingering kisses against the base of my neck, his breathing still ragged against my skin. He’sstill buried deep inside me, the evidence of our joining slick against my inner thighs, but I don't care. Because his smile, when he pulls back slightly to look at me, is so unguarded, so breathtakingly young and free, it stops my heart for a second before mirroring itself on my own face.
"Come on," he murmurs, his voice soft now, gently lifting me from his lap. "Let's get cleaned up and go back to bed. Long flight ahead."
He carries me easily toward the shower, his steps sure and steady. There he gently washes my hair, something I’ve noticed he genuinely enjoys. There’s always this look of pure fascination on his face as his fingers move through my hair, as if the simple act of caring for me never loses its magic for him. I find myself watching him, memorizing the way his expression softens and how he seems completely absorbed in the moment.
Once we’re done, we dry off and head to bed, but I don’t sleep again. Instead, I lie curled against his side, watching him sleep, memorizing the steady rise and fall of his chest, the occasional frown that creased his brow, the way his hand automatically seeks mine even in slumber. Because I can never get enough of this man.
This man who is irrevocably mine.
Chapter 30
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Maksim
The bump of the plane touching down in Chicago jolts me slightly.
Beside me, Julia snaps her laptop shut, a triumphant glint in her eyes. She slides smoothly onto my lap, winding her arms around my neck, her smile bright enough to banish the lingering shadows. "Found it," she announces, her voice pulsing with quiet victory.
I knew she would. Knew she’d unearth the thread we needed to finally unravel this whole damn thing.
"ErestonLabs," she explains, her fingers tapping excitedly against my chest. "It's an exclusive firm, top-tier, specializing in internal cardiac defibrillators. Two years ago, they implanted the device currently keeping Ivan Rastovski's black heart beating." Her eyes meet mine, sharp and focused. "We need someone who worked there, Max. Inside access. Their security protocols are tight; any direct cyber intrusion attempt now would raise immediate red flags."
Pride swells in my chest looking at her, at the fierce intelligence burning in her gaze. I lean in, capturing the corner of her mouth with mine. Her eyes flutter shut as she deepens the kiss, her lips parting slightly.
