Sordid (Sordid 1)

We’d left Chicago and the Markovics behind. Luka had acclimated to his life without a family better than I had, but held onto his hard edge, and I was grateful. It was what had forced me to fall in love with him, and I was glad the morning in the basement hadn’t stolen him from me.

Vasilije had only called twice since we’d moved. Once to check in, and once to explain that an uneasy truce had been struck with the Russians. It was fragile, and Vasilije wasn’t sure how long it would last, but it allowed Luka to breathe easier. He didn’t want that dangerous life for his brother, but he wasn’t going to stand in the way, either.

I began to count the moments between us in his rare but beautiful smiles. I’d gotten one when I’d asked him to pull over during our drive to Maryland, wanting my hands and mouth on him. And another the morning of my first day of classes at Johns Hopkins. We’d stood in the bathroom, preparing for the day at our own sinks, and his gaze had found mine in the mirror.

It was all so normal, and exactly the life he wanted. The life we wanted. We’d had to go through hell to get there, but we’d done it.

Together.

I came in a spectacular rush, collapsing forward onto the mattress, and braced myself as Luka began to move for himself. His body slid over and into mine, reaffirming our connection with each thrust until he lost himself as well.

His hot chest pressed against my back, and he breathed heavily in my ear. I turned my head to the side so I could look at him.

“Sometimes I love you so much,” he whispered, “it hurts.”

“It’s the same for me.” I kissed him gently. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A smile broke on his face, and it was absolutely stunning.

THE END