“Oh!” She cries out again as I push inside of her, groaning at the hot, wet, tight clutch of her around me. Nothing has ever felt so good. I grip the edge of the tub with my other hand, feeling her soft breasts rub against my chest as I thrust into her slowly, wanting to savor every inch.
Her arms wind around my neck, her head tipping back as she raises her mouth to mine, meeting every slow thrust as I slide into her again and again. I’m aching to come, but at the same time, I want to make it last, to spend an eternity inside of her, feeling the closest thing I’ve ever experienced to heaven.
“Max–” Sasha breathes my name against my mouth, still softly undulating beneath me. “I think I–”
I start to slide out of her, dragging my cock back out slowly over the spot I know makes her squirm with pleasure, giving her shallow thrusts to rub against it. Then I thrust hard, filling her entirely, and I feel her shatter beneath me, her words turning into a cry of pleasure as I feel her clench around me as she comes again.
I’d meant to make it last longer, but it’s impossible. It feels too good,shefeels too good, and I’ve never been so grateful that I know I can come inside of her–because I don’t know how I would have made myself pull out.
“Ohfuck, Sasha–” I kiss her hard, my tongue tangling with hers as I push myself into her as deeply as I can go, feeling her spasm around my cock as we come together. “God, I fucking love you–”
“I love you too,” she whispers, laughing between breaths as we both slowly come down from the high of intense pleasure. “But we should probably get out of the tub now.”
It’s all I can do not to take her again up against the wall of the shower as we rinse the soap off, lingering under the hot water until we finally both slip out and dry off. We end up in bed together, kissing again as I pull her into my arms, content for a moment just to feel her body against mine.
It’s not until much later, when we’re lying there catching our breaths yet again, that I decide I don’t want to wait any longer.
I stand up, shrugging on a robe lying across the chair next to the window, and Sasha sits up, the sheet wrapped around her as she looks at me curiously. “What are you doing?”
“Give me a second.” I reach into the pocket of my discarded pants, holding my hand just behind me as I walk back to the bed and sit next to her, facing her. “I know this isn’t the most traditional way to do this–but we’ve never done anything in a traditional way. To be honest, after a life of tradition, I think I love that even more.”
Sasha is staring at me, dawning comprehension on her face as I hold out my hand, a small black velvet box in my palm.
“I love you, Sasha Federova,” I say simply. “I’ve loved you for far longer than I’ve been willing to admit, and that’s not a mistake I want to ever repeat again. The greatest honor you could ever give me would be to let me show you for the rest of our lives how much I love you, desire you, and want you by my side forever.”
Slowly, I open the box, showing her the ring that Liam had found to my exact specifications–an oval diamond solitaire, delicately cut, on a rose gold band. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted, Sasha, and you will always be the only one. Will you be my wife?”
Her expression is stunned as she looks down at the ring and back up at me, her mouth hanging slightly open. “I–of course!” Her hand comes up to cover her mouth, her blue eyes suddenly filling with tears. “Of course, I’ll marry you. I–”
She flings herself towards me, the sheet falling away as her arms wrap around my neck and her lips crash against mine. I follow her back down onto the pillows, the ring box toppling onto the sheets next to us as Sasha’s mouth slants over mine, her legs wrapping around me as she kisses me. She pulls me against her, kissing me fervently, and I forget about anything other than her warm mouth and her body against mine, the way I want her more than anything else.
“I love you,” she whispers as I slide inside of her, hard and aching again, craving her with an obsession like nothing I’ve ever felt before. “Always.”
Afterward, as she’s lying there with her head nestled into the pillows, I retrieve the ring box from the sheets. Slowly, I pull the ring out, sliding it onto her left ring finger. It fits perfectly, glittering on her hand, and I feel my heart clench as I imagine her waking up to see it there, the symbol of the vow I plan on keeping for the rest of my life.
As I sit there for a moment, watching her sleep, I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear a buzzing from across the room.
Quickly, I pull the robe back on, striding to retrieve my phone. There’s an unfamiliar number on it, and I hesitate, but it’s coming from New York.You don’t have Viktor’s number in this phone,I remind myself, and before I can hesitate any longer, I answer it.
“Hello?”
“Max?” The voice is familiar, but I can’t quite place it, and I feel myself tense.
“Who is this?” I lower my voice, stepping to the other side of the room to try to keep from waking Sasha.
“It’s Father Donahue.”
A strange foreboding fills me, even though I have no idea why he could be calling. “Did something happen to Viktor’s family?” Even as I ask it, I know it doesn’t make sense–Levin would call me if that were the case.
“I am calling on account of Viktor, but no. Everything is fine.” Father Donahue pauses. “You asked Viktor to discuss something with me, quite a while ago. Do you remember?”
Oh, God.I do remember, and in that instant, I know why he’s calling. I grip the edge of the window, feeling my heart turn over in my chest. “I do,” I say hoarsely.
“Viktor and I had a chance to discuss the matter. I had told him it was quite impossible at first, but he was very–impassioned on your behalf. He made it clear that you had done him a great debt by protecting Sasha, and that he felt a great burden of guilt for not being able to protect you and her as well as he might have liked. He spoke at length to me about forgiveness and absolution, and well–” Father Donahue chuckles. “He might have made quite the man of the cloth himself, were it not for–some things.”
My throat feels as if it’s closed over. I can’t speak. I know what the elderly priest is about to say, and for years, it’s what I would have given anything to hear. “Are you offering what I think you are?” I say finally, thickly, when I can make my throat work again. “Is this–”
“An invitation back into the priesthood? Yes. An absolution of your past deeds? Yes. I have been–convinced.” Father Donahue pauses. “You would come back here, to New York, to serve in this parish. It would keep you safe–and you would have your life back, the one that was stolen from you by familial duty.”