Page 115 of Imperfect Desires

“I wanted the sky to witness it,” I explain. “The trees. The water. All of it.”

She smiles, but I don’t.

“I wanted the earth itself to know that you’re mine. That I’ve claimed you. That nothing—not time, not blood, not death—can undo this.”

Her eyes shimmer in the lantern glow. “Lev…”

I press my lips to her forehead, breathing her in even as I kiss her.

“This is what eternity must feel like.”

She doesn’t say anything, just slides her hand into mine and lays it over the curve of her belly.

And I break.

Not outwardly. Not with tears or noise or anything the world can use against me. But inside, something in me shifts. The boy Mendes tried to kill, the man Viktor saved, the enforcer the world fears—I can feel all of them going quiet.

Because I’ve finally arrived at my destination.

“Thank you for loving me, for waiting for me, and for saying yes.”

Her voice trembles as she speaks, but it’s not from fear—it’s from the weight of what we’ve just agreed to: a lifetime together. My heart pounds in my chest, a relentless rhythm that echoes the intensity of this moment. I guide her gently down onto the blanket I laid out earlier on the private dock, the cool wood beneath us starkly contrasting with the heat simmering between our bodies. The lake is still, its surface mirroring the stars above, but my hands are anything but steady as I trace the delicate curve of her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. Her skin is warm- feverish, almost- and I can feel her breath hitch as my lips brush against hers in a kiss so soft, so tender, it’s as if I’m afraid to break the spell.

But I’m not afraid. Not anymore. Not with her.

I deepen the kiss, my tongue sliding against hers, tasting the sweetness of her mouth, the anticipation that lingers there. Her hands fist in my hair, pulling me closer, and I can feel her heart racing against my chest, a frantic beat that matches my own. I break the kiss reluctantly, my lips trailing down her neck,savoring the salt of her skin, the scent of her that’s uniquely hers. Her breath catches as I reach her chest, my mouth hovering over the swell of her breasts before I finally take her nipple between my lips, teasing it with my tongue. Her back arches off the blanket, a silent plea for more, and I give it to her, gently, reverently, my hands cupping her as I worship her body with my mouth.

I’m mindful of her, of the small baby bump that’s just beginning to show. It’s a reminder of the life growing inside her, a life we created together, and it fills me with a fierce protectiveness, a love so deep it aches. I move lower, my hands tracing the curve of her hips, the softness of her thighs. She’s trembling, her body alive with need, and I can see it in her eyes, hear it in the soft, breathy moans that escape her lips. I want to take my time, to make every second count, to show her with my body what words could never express.

I hook my fingers into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down slowly, deliberately. She lifts her hips to help me, her eyes locked on mine, and in them I see trust, love, desire—a cocktail so potent it leaves me breathless. I toss her panties aside, my hands returning to her thighs, spreading her legs gently as I kneel between them. Her cheeks flush a beautiful pink, a color that contrasts perfectly with her dark hair, and I lean in, my breath hot against her skin, my lips ghosting over her core. She shivers, her body tensing with anticipation, and I take my time, my tongue dipping and swirling, tasting her, savoring her.

She’s sweet, her body responding to my touch with a desperation that mirrors my own. I can feel her tension building, her body coiling like a spring, and I want to push her over the edge, tomake her scream my name, to make her feel so good she forgets her own name. I increase the pressure, my tongue moving faster, my fingers joining in, and she’s moaning now, her body writhing beneath me. I can feel her getting closer, her muscles tightening, and I want to draw it out, to make it last, but my own desire is a roaring beast, demanding, insistent.

I move up, my body covering hers, and she wraps her legs around me, pulling me closer, her heat searing against my skin. I’m aching, my cock throbbing with need, but I take my time, my hips moving slowly, teasingly, as I position myself at her entrance. She’s wet, so wet, and I can feel her trembling, her body begging for more. I give it to her, my hips surging forward, my body claiming hers, and she moans, her nails digging into my back, her legs tightening around me.

I set a rhythm, slow at first, savoring the way she feels around me, so tight, so perfect. But her body demands more, and I give it to her, my hips moving faster, harder, my hands gripping her hips to hold her steady as I thrust into her. She’s moaning my name, her body writhing beneath me, and I can feel her getting closer, her muscles clenching around me. I want to make this last, to make it count, but my own release is building, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatens to consume me.

I lean down, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss, our breaths mingling as our bodies move in perfect sync. She moans into my mouth, her body tensing, and I can feel her orgasm, her walls milking me, her cries filling the air. It’s too much, too good, and I follow soon after, my body shuddering, my release intense, overwhelming. I collapse on top of her, my weight careful, myheart pounding against hers, our breaths syncing as we come down from the high.

We lie there, our bodies entwined, our hearts beating as one. This is our promise, our vow, sealed not just with words, but with our bodies, our souls. This is our love, our life, our forever. And as the moon watches over us, I know this is just the beginning.

39

Epilogue

Alina

The satin is too smooth beneath my fingertips. My heart is thumping too loud for how quiet the room is. And my cheeks—God, they hurt from smiling so hard.

“You’re glowing,” Scarlett says behind me, tugging the final ribbon through the back of my custom dress.

“She’s glowing because she’s seven months pregnant and hasn’t sat down in the last hour,” Yelena drawls as she fluffs my veil like she’s on a mission to make it float.

“I am not glowing because I’m exhausted,” I reply, lifting my chin. “This is bridal glow. Don’t steal my moment.”

They both laugh. Scarlett steps back and clasps her hands, eyes shining. “You look breathtaking, Alina.”

I glance at my reflection in the mirror. The dress fits like a second skin—pure ivory, with delicate lace sleeves and a silhouette that embraces my bump before cascading into a pool of silk. It’s elegant, soft, and powerful all at once. As if I’m both the storm and the calm that follows.

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