When he meets my gaze, I see the passion burning there, the intensity of his feelings. He doesn’t have to say anything. I know when he kisses me that he feels strongly for me. Our kisses grow heated until he’s between my legs, tearing my leggings from my hips. He shucks his jeans, rolls a condom onto his cock, and then buries himself inside me, everything breaking with that single motion.
He’s like a crashing wave, the kind that makes me want to surrender to the ocean and give in to the mightiness that waits for me. With every thrust, I feel myself coming undone, the worries in my mind soon to be left behind. Everything that Lev does drips with affection, promises stated with intention and accompanied by pressing kisses.
We erupt together, becoming a mess of tangled limbs on the couch covered in sweat. He strokes my hair behind my ear while telling me about what life in England is like. It’s so much different from Macedon, so much slower and more carefree.
When he walks me to the service car, I notice his father watching us from one of the second-story windows. I hug Lev to me and whisper into his ear, “Will we be okay with your father?”
He scoffs. “We’ll be just fine, baby. Nothing will get in the way of our plan to escape.” He cradles my face, kisses my lips, and adds, “I promise.”
When he sends me home, I feel lighter than air. The car carries me back to my prison, sure, but with the plan under my belt to get out of Macedon, I don’t have to worry anymore. I don’t have to fret over living under a tyrannical roof. No more dirty secrets. No more sleepless nights.
Just me, Lev, and a cottage to ourselves.