On his next stroke, Alik finds that blissful spot inside me. I didn’t think I could come again, but he’s stroking me and hitting my clit just right with every slam of his hips, and I feel the crest building as he presses his lips against my ear.
“I am so fucking obsessed with you.” His lips are scalding, breath ragged. He thrusts harder, faster. “You’re mine. I’m never letting you go.”
I dig my teeth into his shoulder.
His hips stutter. My pussy clenches.
Alik groans, and I open my eyes. Watch, memorized, as he tips his head back, mouth open, his entire frame shaking as he gives in to the inevitable.
Alik’s cock throbs inside me, his release coming in thick, hot waves. It triggers my orgasm, my body responding to his call, my channel clenching around him so tight there’s no chance of escape.
Alik sinks against me, pinning me to the mattress. Our hearts are pounding, one right against the other.
No. There’s no chance of escape.
“Alik!NO!”Everything is moving in slow motion. Me, Alik, the bullet. I’m screaming, trying to push him out of the way, but it’s like moving through water. My limbs are too heavy, my movements painfully slow.
I’m screaming louder, trying to stop him. Trying to will his body to go in any other direction than the one it’s traveling. It’s not working. Nothing is working and I’m watching him throw himself between me and the bullet.
The impact is reverberating in my bones.
He’s groaning as he hits the ground, blood soaking his shirt and splattering across the floor. It’s spreading so, so fast.
I’m running toward him, skidding across the now-slippery surface. Bullets are whizzing over our heads. Dimitri is shouting something I can’t understand. The pounding in my head is threatening to split my skull wide open, and my throat is painfully dry as I’m shaking Alik. His eyes are closed, his skin cool to the touch.
“No, Alik. No,no, please.” I’m kissing his cheeks, his forehead, his lips, but he’s motionless. “You can’t die!” I’m yelling at him, pounding his chest. “You can’t die and leave me! Please, please,pleasedon’t leave me.” My hands are getting redder by the second, his blood soaking into my skin and staining my clothes and sinking deep beneath my nails.
I’m calling Alik’s name, sobbing it, and no matter where I touch him or how I try to revive him, he’s dead on the ground. Killed, because of me. I’ve lost the one person I care most about in this world all because he took a bullet meant for me…
I bolt upright in bed, my pulse rate so high I’m dizzy. My hair is damp with sweat, my palms clammy.
It was a dream.
Panicked, I twist in the sheets, looking for proof of Alik. He’s face down next to me, head turned toward me, disheveled hairsticking to the pillow in the most adorable way possible. Asleep, he looks softer, cuter than when he’s awake, and my heart does that squeezing thing it’s gotten into the habit of doing when he’s around. I stare at him, watching his inhales come at regular intervals.
He’s breathing. He’s alive. It was all a dream.
But only because Renzo’s attack played out differently. Dimitri caught the bullet, not Alik. Someone was still shot, still hurt because of me. I sink back against the headboard, wrapping my arms tightly around my chest. It’s pitch-black outside, no moon to speak of. I don’t know how long I’ve slept, but now that I’m awake reality feels a lot harsher, colder, than when Alik and I were all twined up in each other.
Everything we did felt like bliss.
Now, no amount of dreaming can keep the monsters away. Renzo is going to keep coming for me, he’s made that very clear. The question is: who is going to get hurt next time? I can’t let it be Alik.
I look at the man I love one more time, studying his face, memorizing his tattoo, reliving the moments from just hours ago when we were as close as two people could be. I let myself indulge for several silent minutes before steeling my nerves and slipping out of the bed.
I throw on clothes, grab my phone, and tiptoe out of the room, closing the bedroom door behind me with barely a click. My body temperature plummets as I stare at my phone, counting down the seconds to the point of no return.
I haven’t called his number in years, but, amazingly, I still remember it. With my teeth practically cutting through my bottom lip, I tap the numbers, hit dial, and wait.
34
SERA
It only takes one ring before Renzo answers. “Well, well.Principessa. This is a surprise.”
“You, too.” My level of feigned nonchalance is impressive. “Guess you’re not dead.”
“No thanks to you.” He sounds pained. Good. The asshole deserves to be in agony. “What do you want?”