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What happens, if Lunita comes?
A cold shiver hit me, yet my heart ached for Lunita too.
She’s hurting over Maxwell. I know it. She may come, and it won’t be a peaceful visit.
My gut twisted.
How will I sooth her?
I gritted my teeth.
No matter what darkness the night brought, no matter what actions Lunita chose to take, I would be there.
I would face it head-on, for Emily, always for her.
More and more, I was learning that this was the true meaning of love.
Love was not the pleasure of Emily’s body—the wetness of her pussy.
Love was not enjoying the beauty of her face or the fullness of her breasts.
Love was helping her fight the demons she could not.
Love was trust and commitment.
It was acceptance.
It was helping her hold the line against the encroaching darkness, and never, ever letting go.
And I love you with all my heart, mysh.
I turned off the lamp next to me, plunging the room into a soft, comforting darkness, illuminated only by the faint glow of the moonlight seeping in from the balcony.
And then, I pulled Emily gently into my arms.
Mysh. . .
She sighed softly in her sleep.
What are you dreaming about? Are you at least at peace?
Warmth entered my heart.
I wrapped my arms tighter around her, and she stirred lightly and nestled closer to me. Her soft breath fanned against my skin.
I buried my face into her hair. Those braids pressed smooth along my cheeks. Whether my men could see me in the moonlight or not, it did not matter.
Loudly, I inhaled the intoxicating scent of her hair.
I like this new shampoo, mysh.
It was a blend of wildflowers and honey. The fragrance washed over my senses like a soothing balm.
All will be fine.
The presence of Boris, Wassily, and the others were now only shadows in the room.
Bizarre, yet necessary.
