Page 87 of About Love and Revenge

I enter the apartment, and to my surprise, I find her pacing the living room.

She freezes when she sees me, apparently undecided on how to act, but finally walks over to where I am, still looking at me.

I study her face for the slightest trace of guilt, but all I find is fear.

Fear of what?

That I survived?

Blurring everything I've been thinking on the flight home, Elina throws herself into my arms spontaneously for the first time since we've been together. I’ve always been the one to take the first step, and her initiative paralyzes me, so I wait for her next move.

When our bodies are glued together, both hands grip my neck.

I want her touch. Even after what Grigori said and the possibility that she has betrayed me, I need some part of her touching me.

“Thank God you're here. I was so worried.” She doesn't give me time to answer, clinging to me like she's never going to let go. “You're here,” she repeats over and over again.

There's still a shred of willpower in me to reject the hug, until I feel her body shaking.

“I was terrified. I made so many promises to God.”

Finally, something inside me breaks. I’m a bag of mixed emotions, but there is one, the dominant one, which is very clear.

She’s mine.

I pick her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist. Elina hugs me tightly, and I sink my face into her neck. Her scent quickly clouds all my senses.

I take her to the sofa and lie down with her on top of my body.

I need to look at her.

I'm not in a hurry, but she seems to think differently and starts unbuttoning my shirt.

Until today, every time we've had sex, she's left the control in my hands. She always gives herself without reservation, but she’s usually not the one to take the initiative. So I watch, mesmerized, as she plants kisses across my chest, nibbles at my neck, and climbs up to kiss my mouth.

“He called me.”

“Who?”I'm on alert again, but she seems to be talking to herself.

“He said you'd never come back to me again, that you were—”Her voice cracks, and I know she's not faking it.

Grigori was wrong this time.

“Who called, Elina?”

I try to hold her face so she can answer me, but she won't let me. “I need you. Then we can talk.”

Still lying there, I watch her get up. Standing beside me, she pulls her dress over her head, and I notice that she's only wearing tiny silk panties.

“Take them off. I want to see you.”

She bites her lip and hooks her fingers into the sides of her garment, pulling it down. “You like to look at me.”

I nod in confirmation, already focused on the blonde fluff between her thighs. I know the delight that lurks beneath that seductive littlemound. I pull her by the ass and make her lift one of her legs until I have her almost sitting on my face.

“I want to taste you,” she says.

“In a bit. I'm dying for you.” Giving her no chance to escape, I lick her already wet sex, and she grabs my hair.

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