Page 108 of Beautiful Agony

A nagging fear claws at the back of my mind, whispering that this could be our last night together like this. I push back against those dark thoughts by kissing him harder, deeper, pouring all of my love and need into it. His response is immediate and fierce.

"Zvyozdochka," he breathes against my mouth. The endearment carries so much more weight and meaning now than it has ever done before.

Zvyozdochka.

Little star.

Once upon a time, he whispered that he'd make me shine like a constellation—half a challenge at my own bravado, and half a demonstration of his absolute power.

I can still feel the weight of that heavy necklace at my throat, the way his fingers traced my skin at every inch that he could adorn me in diamonds, and the salty taste of his cum on its diamond.

The juxtaposition had left me confused and aroused in ways I've never been before—the way he promised to decorate me like a queen before he made me fall to my knees like a whore. But I understand it now.

I used to think being called his little star meant being decorative, to be a shiny little thing for him to own.

But I was wrong.

It was never a term that meant I was a thing to be owned, but a reminder that I am the light that guides him through the darkness—his fixed point in this dark and turbulent world that shaped him.

He saw it in me long before either of us could recognize it. Before either of us can breathe life into the true meaning of that term.

My fingers trace the strong lines of his jaw, committing to memory the slight stubble that's grown in since morning. His hands slide down my sides, following familiar paths but with an intensity that makes me shiver.

Every touch feels amplified, electric.

He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down my neck, and I arch into him with a gasp. The heat between us builds rapidly, driven by something rawer than just desire—it's a bone-deep hunger to possess and be possessed, to know and be known completely.

My hands roam his broad shoulders, feeling the powerful muscles flex beneath my palms. His mouth finds that sensitive spot behind my ear that makes me melt, and I clutch him closer. We're pressed together so tightly I can feel his heartbeat thundering against my chest, matching my own frantic rhythm.

The desperate edge to our passion should frighten me, but instead it makes everything feel more real, more visceral and raw. Each caress, each shared breath becomes precious—something to be savored and sealed into memory.

His hands tremble slightly as they move to undress me, and that small betrayal of vulnerability makes my heart swell.

He touches me reverently, like I'm something sacred—something he ought to worship.

Each button of my blouse that he unfastens is accompanied by a brush of his fingertips trailing fire against my skin.

"My fierce, beautifulzvyozdochka," he murmurs, sliding my blouse off my shoulders. His palms skim down my arms, raising goosebumps in their wake. "You never cease to amaze me."

His hands drift to my belly, now gently curved with our growing child. The tenderness in his touch makes tears prick at my eyes.

"Look what you've given me," he whispers, voice thick with emotion. "A family. A future. Everything I never dared to dream I deserved."

My breath catches as his fingers trace patterns on my skin. He unzips my skirt with deliberate slowness, letting it pool at my feet. His hands ghost over my hips, my thighs, mapping every inch as if committing it all to memory.

"The way you shine," he continues, pressing soft kisses along my collarbone. "Not just your beauty, though you're the most stunning thing I've ever seen. But your spirit—so bright it burns away all my darkness."

His hands move to cup my breasts, now fuller from the pregnancy. The gentle exploration makes me arch into his touch, seeking more.

"I never knew love could feel like this," he confesses against my skin. "So complete. So consuming." His thumbs brush over my sensitive nipples through the lace of my bra. "You've made me whole in ways I didn't even know I was broken."

His words break something inside me and sends tears spilling from my eyes.

It's unfair!

Just when we've finally found our way to each other—truly and completely—we have to risk it all.

The thought of losing him, of our daughter growing up without her father, cuts deeper than any physical pain.

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