Luka lifted his head and his brown eyes met mine. “I don’t know what to do now. I’ve spent so long with one goal, one drive, and now it is done with.” His eyebrows pulled down. “What now, solnyshko? What do I do now? What if I can’t do anything else but kill?”
I cupped his cheeks and laid my forehead against his. “You learn how to live again. And I’ll be there every step of the way with you.”
Luka’s eyes filled with tears and a single drop fell down his scarred face… and it was quite possibly the most heartbreaking thing I’d ever seen.
“Baby, don’t cry,” I said, my throat clogged. “Everything is okay. I love you, I love you so much.”
Luka’s eyes met mine, his long dark lashes wet and he lifted a hand to lay over mine on his cheek. “I’m free… I’m finally free… I can’t… I can’t…”
Heart exploding in my chest at the relief on his face, I held my soul mate as hard as I could against my chest.
Moving my mouth to his ear, I asked, “Can I have you?”
Luka stilled for a moment. Then I felt a decade’s worth of pain and loss flee his body. “You can have me, solnyshko. You can have all of me. You always have, and you always will.”
Epilogue
Six months later…
“Lyubov moya…” I moaned as Luka moved within me. I raked at his strong back, my head tilted as he kissed and nipped at my throat.
“Solnyshko,” Luka groaned, his hips picking up speed, his cock like steel, swelling within me the closer we came to release.
Our breathing came quick, and my hands moved to fist his hair. Luka stretched out his arms and gripped the iron of the headboard, thrusting powerfully inside me, making me lose control.
“Baby!” I cried, feeling my orgasm approach, clenching my legs around his waist. Luka’s head lifted to press his mouth to mine. Our tongues instantly clashed, wild and erratic.
“Kisa… Kisa…” Luka roared, breaking from my lips as his neck tensed, his muscles cording as he came, taking me over the edge with him.
Luka jerked inside me, then collapsed on my chest, his skin damp from hours and hours of lovemaking.
Yesterday we got married.
Finally. In our childhood church, by Father Kruschev.I was officially Luka’s wife, and there was no one happier on Earth than I was right now, right at this second.
I ran my hand through Luka’s blond messy hair as he caught his breath. Lifting his head, Luka pressed a long, lazy kiss to my lips and said, “I love you, solnyshko.”
Running my finger down his cheek, I replied, “I love you too.”
Smiling shyly, Luka, after six months of never spending a day apart, still found his freedom impossible to get used to and he felt undeserving of my unconditional love for him.
Memories of his past in the Gulag gave him nightmares and he would wake up in cold sweats, the faces of the hundreds of men and boys he was forced to kill haunting his sleep. The nightmares got so bad, Luka refused to sleep those first nights. I couldn’t stand seeing it, so I defied my papa and ignored orthodox tradition. The very next night I slept next to Luka in his childhood bed, and he never woke up once.
He needed me to sleep.
I kept his nightmares away.
We’d never spent a day apart since.
Moving his face to mine again, I ensured our eyes met and said, “I have always and will always love you, all my life.”
Luka awarded me with a blinding smile and kissed down my neck, down my chest, and down to my belly, where he peppered me with kisses.
Glancing up at me with hope in his eyes, he asked, “You think you’re pregnant yet?”
Laughing, I held on to his arms and pulled him back up over me. “We got married yesterday, Luka.”
His face fell into a serious expression. “I want a child with you.”
“I know you do, lyubov moya. And it’ll happen. Nothing will take me away from you again.” I ran my finger over his wedding ring. “We’re married now. Together forever, remember?”
He exhaled through his nose and nodded, slumping beside me, and laid his head over my naked chest. He nuzzled his head into my breast, and I smiled, knowing what that small action meant.
I began running my fingers through Luka’s messy sandy hair, loving the feel of his arms tightening around mine. He loved me stroking at his hair. Said it made him feel like the last twelve years had never happened.
It broke my heart because he wasn’t the Luka from our childhood.
He was damaged.