Page 302 of Nemesync
Elijah shook his head, continuing his discussion with Niko. But the weight of the day settled on my shoulders, and I couldn’t hide a yawn.
I was exhausted.
Niko chuckled and smiled at me. “What do you say we stop for the day, Zanae?”
“Yeah, please let’s go.”
We left the office together, and Niko parted ways, disappearing into the night with a casual, “Bye to my favorite couple.”
Entering the penthouse, Elijah closed the door behind us, his eyes never leaving mine. “Long day,Milaya?” he remarked, his voice a low, soothing rumble.
I nodded, feeling the fatigue set in, “Long, but productive. We’re making progress.”
He stepped closer, his fingers gently tracing the outline of my jaw. “You did great today, Zanae. I’m proud of you.”
A warmth spread through me. “Thank you.”
We found ourselves in the living room, he pulled me into his arms, his fingers tracing patterns along my back.
“You fucking bewitched me,” he confessed gently.
I kissed him to answer as his hands reached my hips. He smiled against my mouth and said in a deep voice, “I think I may love this too, the way you feel against my body.” He looked at me, his eyes full of love, “Ya umru za tebya.”
I raised my eyebrow. “What does that mean, Eli?”
He kissed me before saying, “It means that you’ll always be a pain in my ass.”
I chuckled and added sarcastically, “Looks like I’ve turned you into a romantic, now you’re confessing your love for me in Russian.”
He was dead serious. “If I could, I would do it in every language that exists to tell you that I love you, Miss Dellé.”
He pulled me into a slow hug as he sat on the bed, “I can’t get enough of you.” he whispered, his voice a velvet caress against my soul.
I smiled, “Lucky for you Eli, I’m not something you can overdose on.”
He brushed a strand of hair from my face, before kissing my temple, “Trust meMilaya, I’m willing to risk it.”
“You know you could use Russian more often. Sounds hot coming from your lips.”
He smiled, that little line on his cheeks popping out, “I’ve never heard you speak in Arabic, tell me something.”
I knew what to say without even thinking, “Anta rouhi wa akhtar.”
He looked at me intrigued, “Fuck it sounds good rolling out your tongue.”
I kissed his cheek, “I’ll teach you if you teach me some Russian too.”
“We’ll see about that,Milaya,” he teased.
“Why do you keep calling meMilaya, what does it mean?”
His hand went to my lower back, and he said in a lower voice, “It means that I love calling you pretty. And when I was younger, my mother always called meMily. That’s why Niko kept it when we grew older, but when we turned 18, I didn’t want to use it again.”
I smiled, imagining little Elijah with his mother. “That’s actually cute.”
“It is.”
Elijah
