DIMITRI

Rose hadn't said a word since we left the cafe. That alone was terrifying when she was usually so full of life, always willing to share her thoughts and opinions. I guess I couldn't blame her; I was fairly speechless myself. I tried to squeeze her hand, offering some of the support that I had neglected to give just a few moments ago. Yes, I had never left her side, but I had also been stunned and silent for most of the interaction.

Abe was her father.

Abe was her father.

What were the odds that of all the women I could fall for, it would be the daughter of the one man who could strike terror into my heart?

Rose pulled out of my grasp without a word, bounding up the few stairs to the porch before opening the door to the small entry that separated the main house from the outside.

I hazard to break the silence. "Maybe we should talk about this?"

She kicked off her shoes, exchanging them for her deep plum-colored тапочки before stepping to the side so I could do the same.

"Talk about what?" she said, tone unaffected as if she genuinely had no idea what I was talking about.

I shot her a pointed look at her feigned ignorance. She was obviously going to be stubborn about this, which probably meant that it had shaken her a little more than even I initially realized. She, of course, ignored me as much as she was trying to ignore the problem. Still, I could see the battle ensuing in her mind through her stiff posture. Her lips, usually so full with an easy smile, were pulled tight and thin. Her hand fisted over and over again as if bracing for some sort of attack.

"Rose," I chided gently, pulling hard to close the front door and hoping to get through to her. "You kn–"

"I'm fine." She rushed through the living room towards the kitchen, giving a quick but polite 'Здравствуйте' to my grandmother as she passed her. She pulled out a cutting board, a knife, and the white cloth bundle my mother had used to wrap the leftover bread. "Do you want soup for lunch? I think there might be some sliced meat somewhere in the fridge, too."

I sighed, starting to feel annoyed at her obstinance. "Roza. You obviously aren't fine."

"Drop it. Okay?" She finally turned her gaze on me, and I was met with a look that betrayed some strange mixture of anger, worry, and confusion. She shook slightly as I approached her but didn't flinch away when I placed my hand on top of hers. "There's nothing to talk about."

"You know you can't just ignore–"

"That man is lying! He has to be! I'm not sure what Mazur is playing at, but he is not my father." She shrugged me off and went back to work on preparing something for lunch, popping a broken corner of bread into her mouth as she went along. It was clear that she didn't believe what she had just said—only that she really, really wanted to believe it. It was also clear that she wanted me to just let it go.

Maybe I should. I didn't want Mazur to ruin our day. I definitely didn't want this to become some sort of argument that could put a damper on my short trip. Still, it didn't seem like this was something that could just be brushed under the rug and forgotten. Like it or not, Rose would have to deal with what we had just learned.

Before I could press the issue, a low voice broke through the tension. "The man speaks the truth."

We both turned towards Yeva as she rocked in her chair, watching us with sage yet cunning eyes. If I had any doubts before, my grandmother's voice sealed the deal.

"You…You speak English?" Rose practically choked around her bite as she stared in shock, her eyes flicking between my grandmother and me. "She speaks English?"

"Of course she does." I suddenly remembered every time Rose had mentioned her frustration with my grandmother. Every single time Rose vented about how Yeva refused to speak to her unless Rose used Russian. I had assumed it was just my grandmother's tough-love way of forcing Rose to learn, but I never realized that she was outright deceiving Rose and acting like she couldn't understand her. "Бабушка, why would you do that?"

"People tell you who they are when they think you aren't listening."

"Oh? And what, exactly, did I tell you?" There was a fire in her eyes as Rose stared down my grandmother. "That I'm a mess and have no idea what I'm doing with my life? That I'm not sure I have a future here or anywhere else? That I'm scared? Lonely? A failure? Is that what you heard while you pretended to not understand a word I was saying whenever I tried to speak to you?"

As her echoes faded, the now silent standoff between the two kept me frozen in place. Yeva seemed totally unperturbed by the outburst, but as soon as Rose realized what she had just admitted, her face fell. She seemed almost as shocked as I was by what she had said.

I took a step towards Rose, unable to even say her name before a commotion sounded at the stairs.

"Бабушка! Ты все ещё хочешь поехать в карточная игра?" Vika called as she bounded down the stairs, stopping on the landing and taking in the scene with a look of confusion that almost mirrored my own. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," Rose insisted, glancing around as if daring anyone to say anything else.

"Пошли, Виктория." Grandmother rose from her chair, grabbed her bag, and shuffled towards the front entry. "Мне нужен партнер а Ольга больна."

A tense silence hung in the room as my sister escorted my grandmother out the door and to her weekly card game. The moment the pair were out of sight, Rose relaxed a little.

"I'm sorry." I knew Yeva's actions weren't my fault, but I still felt responsible for the weeks upon weeks of lies she had subjected Rose to. "She does things like that sometimes—tricks, I mean. She likes to listen. She likes to learn about people and gather information."

"You mean she likes to spy on people."

I nodded, because that summary wasn't completely wrong. "Most in this town consider her a ved'ma or znakharka. There are a few different words, but they all mean essentially the same thing: one with secret knowledge. Some believe that knowledge comes from the mystic or divine, and maybe some of it does, but I think a good deal is just from her carefully listening to and understanding people, even when they don't know that she's paying attention."

Her brow furrowed as she recalled another memory. "Like Rhonda back at court. You said she was a witch, but you used a different word."

"Vrajitoare. It's basically the Romanian equivalent. Бабушка will occasionally do fortune-telling and readings, too. The pragmatic side of me wants to say it is all just smoke and mirrors, but she's right more often than wrong, so maybe there's something more to their gifts."

Rhonda's prophesy for me ended up being true, at least in one way, that is. Rose was one of the most important people in my life, and I had lost her. I had almost lost her completely to Spirit darkness—which was a nightmare I don't think I'd ever be able to forget—but then she was taken from my side and placed halfway around the world. I knew that her choice to move to Russia after being expelled was probably the best option, but I felt the loss of her day-to-day presence all the time.

After a quiet moment, Rose finally broke the silence again. "So…soup or sandwiches?"

I sighed, knowing this was just another attempt to put off our inevitable conversation. "Fine, we can eat, but then we need to talk. Okay?"

Why did it look like those words were agony for her? Still, she reluctantly accepted.

Lunch was quiet in the now-empty house. I almost wished that there was something to distract us a little. Sonya was at work. Mama was helping out our neighbor who had come down with a nasty illness a few days ago. Karo was out with the kids visiting their paternal grandmother.

Both children shared a father, a non-royal Moroi man who traveled between London and Novosibirsk for business and was rarely in town. However, when he was in town, he was an active parent that genuinely seemed to care for his children. He paid child support, called often, and was always respectful of my sister. Karo and Danila met at St. Basils and had a short relationship, but it had fizzled out when he went to University. I had been surprised to hear that they had connected again for a while before Zoya's birth, but it only seemed to solidify that they were better friends and co-parents rather than romantic partners. As unfounded as the feeling was, a deep-seated part of me was wary of him and his place in my sister's life. It was unwarranted and unfair to him, but the feeling persisted. He had never done anything to hurt her, and more importantly, he had never done anything to hurt the kids. Still, my experience with my own father and his treatment of our family had done irreparable harm and it unjustifiably colored my worries.

Maybe it would be different if I actually took the time to get to know Danila, though. Now that I was planning on being home more often, even if it was only once or twice a year, perhaps I'd get the chance.

Thoughts of fathers brought me back to the situation at hand. Though I had promised to keep the conversation at bay during lunch, it seemed Rose had lost her appetite. She spun her spoon around and around in the bowl, staring into the broth as if it could answer the questions spinning inside her mind.

Eventually, I pulled it away from her and took our dishes to the sink, giving them a quick rinse before placing them in the dishwasher. When I turned to face her again, she had her arms crossed tightly across her chest as she hunched into herself. The whole image gave me the sense that she was unconsciously trying to hug herself. I had seen the strange habit before when she was upset, and I briefly wondered if it was some sort of self-soothing gesture from all the years that she never had anyone else to comfort her. I knelt in front of her and opened my arms in invitation, and she practically threw herself into my embrace. Her face tucked tightly into my neck, and while I didn't think she was crying, I could still feel a few shuddering breaths as she finally allowed someone else to bear some of her burden.

We stayed like that for a moment, with me offering my quiet strength for her to take freely and without judgment. Eventually, she pulled back.

"Come on," I urged, standing and taking her hand in mine. "Why don't we go upstairs."

She nodded, but her shoulders slumped as she let me guide her towards the privacy of her room. I didn't expect anyone home for a while yet, but I didn't want anyone to walk in on our conversation if they did return. Side by side on the bed, I let the silence between us stretch as I gave her room to speak her mind while scouring mine to find some way to start the conversation.

"It's true, isn't it?" She glanced at me, almost asking me to dispute the idea. "That man is really my father."

"I…I believe so." The more I looked at her, the more I saw it. Her eyes. Her hair. There had been small resemblances to Janine, but it was clear that the majority of her features came from Abe. "There are quite a few similarities."

Her face fell into her hands as she finally accepted what she had already known. "I'm Zmey's daughter. Zmey Junior. Zmeyette, even."

Despite the situation, I couldn't help but chuckle a little. "Rose, there are worse things out there. Sure, he might be shady, but he seems to really care about you." I couldn't help but think about all that he had offered her. It was much more than I could ever hope to give her, and a small part of me was bitter about that. I wanted to take care of her. I knew Rose could take care of herself, of course, but it felt like almost an honor when she leaned on me for support rather than trying to take the world on by herself. It made me feel…significant. Important. Powerful.

I considered us equals in our relationship, despite the many little details that might lead others to believe otherwise. It didn't matter to me that I was older or that I had served as Rose's mentor at the academy. I didn't consider her below me in any way, shape, or form. If anything, I considered myself lacking when it came to her. Not unworthy or anything, but she had an emotional strength and mental fortitude that I envied. Physically, I might be stronger, but she could endure much more than I could ever imagine carrying myself. The things she struggled with and managed to overcome would break many, including me.

So when I could help her carry that heavy load, when she allowed me to help her carry that burden, it made me feel strong. She had many in her life that cared about her, but even she had admitted to hiding her struggles from others, including Lissa, as some sort of protection towards them. She didn't hide from me, though. She shared freely and trusted me to stand by her.

Or at least she mostly did.

"What was that about downstairs, by the way."

Her brows furrowed for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"What you said to my grandmother. About being scared and feeling like a failure."

She groaned. "I'm sorry about that. I don't really know where that came from. I mean, I do, but it's no big deal. Really."

I raised a brow to her, quietly cynical about her insistence.

"Okay, maybe I feel a little bit like that sometimes," she admitted with a sigh, pinching her thumb and forefinger close together and looking at me through the nearly non-existent space between. "Can you really blame me, though? It's not like I'm wrong. I did technically fail to become a guardian. It doesn't really matter why; it's still the truth. And it's a little scary to feel like I have no direction now. I really appreciate your family for letting me stay here, but I'm a bit stuck at the moment and don't know what I should do next."

I pulled her over me, allowing her to straddle my lap so I could more fully wrap her in my arms. "What do you want to do? Do you want to go with Mazur?"

She scoffed and shook her head, and I let out a small breath of relief as she brushed the idea away. "No. Even if he is my father, I trust you more than I trust him, and you obviously don't care for the guy. Still, some of his stuff was tempting."

"Like what?"

"Like…maybe university?" She laughed as if the idea of her voluntarily going to school was ridiculous, but I didn't think it was so strange. Rose downplayed her intelligence, but she was much brighter than she gave herself credit for. She had not only caught up to her peers when it came to her combat classes, but she also caught up in them academically. She might not have had straight A's, and she might have needed some help here and there, but learning nearly two years' worth of science, math, and language arts in less than six months was quite the feat.

"Well, you aren't limited anymore by whatever Lissa was planning to study, so what do you think you'd like to get a degree in? Zoology, maybe? You really enjoyed your animal behavior class last semester." That was an understatement. I'd never seen her take to a subject so fully. I'd catch her reading the textbook before and after practice, and she'd often ask me questions pertaining to it.

She thought a moment, taking the question seriously before turning it on me. "What would you study? What would you do for a living if you weren't a guardian."

I almost laughed because I had honestly never thought about it. Like Rose, I had never expected anything else, so I never bothered to consider anything else. "I mean, something in the literary field could be interesting."

"Like, an author?"

I shook my head. "I prefer reading stories, not writing them. But I wouldn't be opposed to a job in publishing. Maybe an editor or translator or something similar. Or an accountant."

A sudden look of confusion crossed her face, and I didn't blame her. Accounting was a bit of a deviation from my earlier thought.

"I have an accounting and business management degree," I explained. "That's what Ivan went to school for, so I did too." I don't think I had ever mentioned that to her before. I had no real interest in numbers, but I still put my all into my education at the time and managed to graduate with high marks. The fact that my GPA was always a bit above Ivan's annoyed him to no end, but it didn't really matter in the end because my degree was only a byproduct of guarding Ivan.

Rose smirked a little, biting her lip at some unspoken thought.

"What?" I pressed, pinching her side and making her squirm for a moment.

"I'm just imagining you in a suit and some geek-chic glasses." The idea must have been hilarious because she started laughing, triggering my own amusement.

"Oh?" I asked, brushing a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. "How do I look?"

"Strangely hot. Go figure."

I cupped my hand behind her head and pulled her to me, capturing her lips in an attempt to complete her vision. My tongue traced the seam of her lips until she opened to me, allowing me to press forward until I could taste every inch of her. I felt her rock against me, tempting me with the promise of more, but I was content with this for the moment. Sex with Roza was incredible, but I'd never again take for granted the ability to just kiss her. To hold her. I knew that I should try to focus again, but I was already getting lost in her body. I tugged her ponytail a little, exposing her neck as she arched up before moving my kiss to her throat and lavishing it with attention. I groaned as she held my head in place and shifted more onto my lap until I couldn't hold back the need to bite her soft skin, half-hoping to leave a mark that I could come back to later and enjoy.

She yelped, pulling out of my embrace and smacking my shoulder. "Cut that out! Vika teases me enough as it is. I don't need you leaving hickeys everywhere and giving her more ammo."

I chuckled but didn't apologize. Nor did I promise anything because I fully intended to shower Rose with attention and leave marks up and down her body as much as possible over the next few days. Maybe I'd try to limit the publicly visible ones for her sake. Everywhere else was fair game, though, and I felt my blood heat a little at the idea of leaving small love bites between her thighs and on the underside of her breast as she writhed beneath me.

Focus, though. I needed to focus. "University then?"

Rose moved off of my lap, stretching her hands high above her before settling again. "Maybe eventually. I think I need to start with a job first, though. And while I'm not completely opposed to getting help from…dad," she hesitated, testing the word on her lips before apparently deciding that it didn't feel right. "I might ask for Abe's help if the time comes, but I don't know if I can accept that sort of thing right now. I mean, I just learned that he's my father. How do I go from not knowing he even existed to him funding my education? Or handing me a job that I'm probably not qualified for. For all I know, he's just trying to throw money at me because he feels guilty."

"I'm not quite so sure," I said, remembering the softness in his eyes as he pulled out the picture that apparently meant enough to him to always keep it close at hand. As much as he unsettled me, I think he did actually love Rose. There was sort of a kinship in that. We both wanted what was best for her and would move heaven and earth to make sure she was happy. "I think he's being sincere with his offers. I think he does honestly care for you."

I thought my words would bring her peace, but they only seemed to unsettle her. "Is that okay?"

"That your father cares about you? I'm no expert on the matter, but I think that's how those sorts of relationships are supposed to go." I tried to keep things light, even though the memories of my father screaming and beating my mother—beating me— flashed through my mind and I had to shake them away. I reminded myself that love was supposed to be the default between parents and their children, not abuse and neglect. Rose and I both had bad experiences in that regard, with my father's violence and her mother's own brand of cruelty, but perhaps her father could soothe the hurt and make up the difference just like my mother had for me.

That idea seemed even more likely when I remembered that it was actually her father whom I had to thank for getting rid of mine and freeing my family from his tyranny.

"No. I mean, are you okay with Abe being my father. I've seen you take down Strigoi without flinching, but one look from Abe and you go pale as a ghost. I don't think I've ever seen someone rattle you so much." Her voice dropped down to a whisper, almost as if she didn't want me to actually hear her next words. "Does this…does this change things?"

"What do you mean 'change things?' What would it change?"

She took a deep breath and steeled herself. "Us. Does this change things between us?"

A sudden understanding dawned on me, and I felt my heart break a little at her worry. "Why in the world would it change anything between us?"

"Because I think you hate him."

"Hate is a strong word." I tried to think how I could explain my complicated feelings towards the man. "I owe Abe so much. If he hadn't taken care of my father, I don't know what would have happened. But I also know that he is a powerful and dangerous man and one that I didn't necessarily want to be associated with. He's earned his moniker as a snake. He can be deadly, striking fast with lethal accuracy. Owing him a debt, even one that I would willingly take on again if it meant saving those that I love, was a heavy weight to bear. I knew he could ask almost anything of me, and I would have done it. Truth is, I don't think I was afraid of him as I was afraid of what he might ask me to do. That didn't mean there wasn't a justifiable fear of the man; I'd be stupid to brush off the fact that he made someone essentially disappear without a trace. Still, he helped when he didn't need to get involved and I have to respect him for that."

"I guess I can understand that," she said, tilting her head as she considered my words. "But I seem to recall you threatening to kill him if he hurt me."

I leaned into her, resting my forehead against hers and keeping my voice low as if I didn't want to be overheard, even though we were the only two in the room as I made an earnest vow. "Don't underestimate the things I would do to keep you safe, Roza. And don't think for a moment that anything or anyone could change how I feel for you. I love you, and nothing will ever change that."

The promise made her smile softly, a gentle sigh whispering between us like the weight of the world was just lifted off her shoulders. On a whim, I kissed that smile I adored so much before brushing my nose against hers to elicit a giggle. I loved that sound. I loved her. I loved her so damn much, it hurt.

I kissed her again. And again. I kissed her until those light giggles started morphing into something deeper and more irresistible. The arms wrapped around my neck tightened as she held me closer and pressed her body against mine, rocking into my lap and the hard length that was now demanding attention.

Tugging on the bottom of her shirt, I gave her a moment to pull back before I tore it over her head and tossed it aside. My lips brushed against her neck again, kissing the spot I had found before and placing the little love bite she couldn't be bothered to care about now. I trailed those same kisses down her shoulder and across her chest, reveling in the way that she squirmed and urged me along to wherever she wanted sweet relief.

Needing more skin, I pulled the soft cups of her bra down and circled the tight peaks of her nipples. The little whimper she gave begged me to do it again and when I did, she began tearing at the clasp of her bra to give me more access. The bra was free a moment later, and as soon as it was, I began lavishing her with the attention she rightly deserved. I gently kneaded a breast in one hand while nipping and sucking at the other, only to switch a moment later and repeat the gesture on the other side. The only relief I offered her was when I'd occasionally seek out somewhere new to claim, be it the creamy skin beneath her chest or the hard ridge of her collarbone. Each and every spot was cared for. Loved.

Loved as much as Roza was.

Pulling at the waistband of her pants, I gave her a sharp tug towards me before ordering her to take them off. She was quick to comply, scrambling to get both those and her underwear off as quickly as possible while I shifted down to the flat of my back.

The moment she was stripped of every last thread of clothing, I pulled her up from where she had been straddling my waist until she had a knee beside each of my ears.

"Dimitri!" Rose shrieked as I settled her directly above me. She squirmed, suddenly looking a little shy with the view I now had of her, but all I could see was sweet temptation. She was already wet from my earlier teasing, but I wanted her soaked. I wanted her dripping on my tongue.

With a hand on each hip, I looked up at her from between her legs. "Ride my face, Rose. Use me for your pleasure until you come so I can taste every last drop of your sweetness."

Her eyes went wide at my wicked words. I wasn't blind to the way she reacted whenever I allowed my thoughts to flow unfettered. With how…well, maybe not innocent but certainly inexperienced Rose was at the beginning of our relationship, I had been worried that I'd have to hold back with her. And perhaps I did initially. However, like in almost every other regard, it seemed like Rose was my match.

That didn't mean she wasn't still a bit hesitant in the vulnerable position. I tried to soothe her worry with little kisses against her inner thigh, first one side and then the other as if I was consecrating sacred ground for me to worship at. The skin felt so soft and smooth against my cheek and I couldn't help but nip at it. The small bite of pain drew a hiss from her, but as I looked up over the gentle curves of her body, I could see that she didn't want an apology; she wanted more.

So I gave it to her.

I started by taunting her with just the barest brush of my tongue against her clit. Nothing more than a flicker. Just enough to make her shiver with anticipation of what was to come. She began to relax a little as I traced my fingers over her body. Anything I could reach was fair game, including her breasts as I reached up to pinch her nipples before grasping her by the ass and finally pulling her on top of me.

She didn't resist this time. Instead, she let me guide her over my mouth as I licked away the last of her shyness and began to tongue her in earnest. I explored every fold and crevice, delving as deep inside of her as I could reach to taste every inch possible. Every time my nose bumped against the swollen bud at her crest, she whimpered. Moans and cries accompanied every lick and suck. Soon, she was rocking against me and chasing my unholy kiss.

I groaned, loving the way that she was getting lost in the indulgence I offered. I wanted to give her more. I wanted to give her everything.

Reaching a hand between us, I spread her lower lips in a wide 'v' before taking advantage of the easier access. I traced her name—R-O-Z-A—over and over against her sex before replacing it with my own name to make my claim on her pleasure.

From the corner of my eye, I could see her fingers flexing over and over again as if she didn't know what to do with them. I wanted to tell her to let go. I wanted her to grip my hair and force my face against her sex until she cried my name. The moment I slipped a finger inside of her, that's precisely what she did.

She rocked down against me as she started chanting little pleas of "more," "oh god," and "right there, Dimitri, right there."

I feasted with the ravenous enthusiasm of a man who had been starved for far too long. How many nights had I dreamed of this? Her body in my hands, her taste on my tongue. Having her surround me was almost more than I could bear.

"You taste so good," I mumbled against her between each caress of my tongue. My words were almost drowned out by the wet, erotic sounds that I've created between us, but she still heard me as I growled, "Я люблю лизать твою сладкую киску."

"Huh?" Breathless and a bit delirious, she looked down at me through the hollow between her breasts as I took her clit between my lips and sucked for a moment. I couldn't help but smirk as she all but melted against my mouth.

Pulling back just far enough to lock eyes with her, I translated. "What I said was, 'I love to lick your sweet pussy.'"

With those words, I pushed her over the edge.

She arched up, crying my name as I continued to fuck her with both my fingers and tongue as a wave of fresh ecstasy drenched my mouth faster than I could keep up. I lapped at her, kissing and licking her through her orgasm until she stopped shuddering above me.

When I couldn't take it anymore, I lifted her off me before switching our positions; her on her back looking up at me in a daze as I kneeled above her. I could feel my body thrumming, practically vibrating with the need to be inside her until I saw what was laid out before me. Her body was marred with little, round bruises. Only one on her neck, but several others scattered across her breasts, stomach, and between her open thighs. The once flawless skin was now a canvas of my affection. A personalized painting of my adoration of her. A love letter. All that was missing was a signature.

I quickly unzipped my fly before reaching past the waistband of my boxers and pulling out my cock. It was thick, heavy with lustful need, and the way her eyes darkened at the sight of it thrilled me as I began to stroke myself from base to tip. Beads of pre-cum eased the way with each rough tug while I quickened my self-abuse to a brutal pace.

Rose's pants kept time with mine as she lifted herself to her elbows, still reclined with her back arched, chest inviting, and eyes flicking between my eyes and my hand while I continued to work myself. I was close. So close. Just another stroke or two.

With one final jerk, my head fell back and the first stream of cum erupted and sprayed across her body like some sort of obscene ink. I couldn't stop, though. If anything, the vision of her painted with my seed only spurred me on until I covered everything from the dark curls over her sex to the dusky pink tips of her peaked nipples with a messy crisscross pattern.

When I was finally spent, I fell forward, bracing myself so I didn't completely collapse on top of Rose. My body felt exhausted, but there was a rush of adrenaline running through me that begged for more. Begged for her. My arm shook, threatening to give out as I attempted to regain composure. Just as I was beginning to catch my breath, I watched as Rose drug her finger through some of the cum between her breasts and stared at it in some strange mixture of shock and wonder, as if she was still surprised about what had happened between us. I couldn't blame her; that wasn't what I had expected to happen either. It felt right, though. It felt right to mark her.

Her eyes met mine, and in an action that seemed more natural rather than intentionally seductive, she slipped the finger between her lips and licked it clean. It was such a small and simple thing, but the pure curiosity as she tasted me was more intoxicating than any drug. I had already known that I was addicted to her, but that moment was just another confirmation that I would never get her out of my system. And I never wanted to.

Mimicking her earlier wonder, I traced a pattern through the sticky substance over her body, connecting the dots between love bites and writing our initials across the smooth plane of her stomach before I dragged my hand up towards her chest, between her breasts, and wrapped it like a necklace around her throat.

Mine, my thoughts demanded.

"Mine," my lips confirmed.

With my fingers still at her neck, Rose reached up and fisted my shirt before pulling me to her lips and kissing me slow and deep. A bitter, somewhat salty taste lingered on her tongue. The taste of me, I realized. I wondered if she could taste herself on my lips, too.

After what seemed like hours, we finally pulled away from one another, and I released my hand from her throat as I sat back on my heels again. She gave a deep sigh before looking down at the mess we had made (because while it was my cum that painted her body, it was Rose that inspired it) before she laughed.

"I should probably take a shower."

"Yeah, that would probably be a good idea." I smiled, even though the thought of her washing it away was bittersweet. Necessary, but still a sad thought. My only solace was that I could always paint her again later. I swung my leg over her body and offered my hand to help her. I was still fully dressed and relatively clean, so I stripped my shirt off and slipped it over her head so that she could cross the hall and make it to the bathroom to clean up. As tempted as I was to join her, I knew my family would be getting home soon, and I didn't want to risk our privacy. Instead, I gave her a small swat on the backside and kissed her forehead. "Go on. I'll grab some clothes for you and set them near the sink."

"Thank you." She lifted onto her toes, stretching as tall as she could to kiss my cheek before skipping towards the door. Just before she left, she looked over her shoulder and gave me a little wink.

Perhaps I would join her after all.

Author's Note

I hope you all liked the chapter because man was it packed! Recently, I've had a reader or two ask if they could help support my writing, specifically by offering to buy me a cup of coffee or something during my weekly writing sessions. I'm hesitant to accept anything because a) as much as I appreciate the offers, I truly need nothing more than your kind words and b) legally, I cannot make any financial income from fanfiction. This is why I cannot publish or sell the DPOV series, as much as I'd love to. There is a whole bunch of legal jargon but it boils down to copywrite laws and violations. However, because it has been requested multiple times and because I do have a few personal projects in the works—including a romantic suspense series that I'm quite excited about!—I have created a Ko-fi page. Think , but for small, one-time donations (like a cup of coffee) and without a membership. If you'd like to help support my general writing, then there are links on all of my social media pages. I can't directly link the Ko-fi here on fanfiction, but you can check out any of my social media accounts and the links should be in the bios. You can find and follow me at

Facebook: AndreaAndersonWrites

Twitter: gigi256

Instagram: AndreaAndersonWrites

Tumblr: gigi256

As much as I appreciate all forms of support and love from my readers, plea se know that I ask for nothing but your kind words. Those truly mean more to me than anything else and if I had to choose between a lovely review from one of you or a cup of hot cocoa (double the packets!) then I'd take the review every single day of the week.

That being said, the question of the week is: How do you like/order your coffee?

.

Translations:

"Здравствуйте" Hello

"Бабушка" Grandmother

"Бабушка! Ты все ещё хочешь поехать в карточная игра?" Grandmother! Do you still want to go to the card game?

"Пошли, Виктория." Come on, Victoria

"Мне нужен партнер а Ольга больна." I need a partner and Olga is sick