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If ever I thought I could give her up, I know now that’s never happening. In fact, after I’d cleaned and rebandaged her, I put the fluffy pink blanket from Nadia over her body and now sit next to her hip. Whipping my shirt over my head, I grab my curved knife out, clean it with the antiseptic wipes, and bring the tip to my flesh.
Slowly, so I don’t screw up, I carve into my own stomach—the only spot on my upper body not covered in tattoos. The perfect spot for her to see and know that I belong to her as well.
“Dez.” Her faint gasp doesn’t distract me from my task until I’m finished, and emblazoned on my skin, dripping with blood, is her name. The name of the only woman who will ever own any piece of me.
“It’s only fair.” I clean the blade and then proceed to take care of my stomach, hissing when the chemicals touch the open wounds. “If you felt the need to brand yourself with me, you should have let me do it. I could have made it cleaner and ensured you were properly taken care of afterwards.” I try not to allow the anger to infuse in my voice, but I’m afraid some of it bleeds through.
She pales while simultaneously blushing with embarrassment, but otherwise, doesn’t say a word. Her gaze never strays when I strip down naked and climb into the bed with her, our bodies touching as intimately as possible without being joined as one.
Cocooning us in the blankets, I use a finger to trace the fine lines of her body, growling a little when I reach the slight curve of her hip. “Why did you do it?” I finally ask.
Her shoulder lifts in a careless shrug as she rolls to her back. Unwilling to let her get away, I move in tandem, lying half on top of her as I rest on an elbow to take her in. My arousal digs into her soft side, leaking with my need.
“Why,malen’ka ptashka?Tell me.” Her hand lifts to touch my chest, tracing the black ink with her delicate finger.
“Relief,” she confesses.
“Relief.” I have to repeat the word because it still doesn’t make sense. “From what?”
Rolling into me, our bodies are flush with each other. “Stress, fear, the unknown of my future.”
I force myself to remain calm at her explanation. “Fear of what? Of who?”
“Life?” Her huff of laughter isn’t convincing.
“If someone is making you fearful, I will take care of it.”Without hesitation.
“What are you going to do, Dez, kill everyone who harms me?” I register the disbelief in the shake of her head.
“Yes.” Her eyes whip up to meet mine.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am always serious. I will eliminate any threat to your safety, all you need to do is give me names.” I’m prepared to go now and kill all night until every single one of her enemies has been erased from this earth.
“Dez”—a tear drops from her eye—“You can’t murder people because I’m afraid of them.”
My eyes narrow down at her. “I can, and I will.” I’ll prove it once she provides me names.
She stares unblinkingly at me, and I see her processing the seriousness of my vow before finally speaking. “You would do that for me?” There’s a catch in her throat, and the way her leg lifts to settle over my hip makes me wonder if perhaps she likes that I’ll kill for her.
Brushing my hand up her body, I settle my fingers around her throat, the thudding pulse like a drum at a parade—hard and steady. Grazing my thumb along the bottom of her jaw, I lean closer so our lips nearly touch, our breaths mingle. “I would do anything for you,malen’ka ptashka.”
Liliya chews on her lip before her body relaxes into mine, allowing me to hold her as close as possible. We spend the night wrapped in each other’s arms, and for the first time in all my years, I sleep soundly.
TEN
LILIYA
“Christmas is around the corner,” I say while my finger traces my name, now carved into Dez’s stomach, as the warm water washes down our bodies in the shower.
My eyes peek up to see his mouth twitch as he lets me explore him. So many scars I’ve discovered since he joined me in the enclosed stall. He informed me I was no longer allowed to hide from him. I engraved his name in my body; therefore, I’m his. And I suppose the same goes for him.
Dez is mine.
I’ve never had something all my own before, let alone an entire person. I hardly remember my mother, my father is an asshole, and my friends aren’t really friends at all. Not even Petr.
“It is,” he finally acknowledges.
