Chapter 54 054

Chapter 54 054
Natasha

When I finally pulled back from the kiss, we were both breathing hard. Mikhail's eyes searched mine in the darkness, and I could see the fear there.

He probably thought that he said and revealed too much.

"Say something," He whispered. "Please."

I traced the line of his jaw, trying to find the right words. "How long have you known?"

"Known what?"

"That you love me."

He was still inside me, our bodies pressed together, and I felt him tense.

"I don't know. Today, maybe? When I saw you with the children. Or maybe it's been longer and I just didn't want to admit it."

He paused. "Are you angry?"

"Angry?" I almost laughed. "Mikhail, I've been in love with you for years."

His eyes widened. "What?"

"Years," I repeated, my voice cracking. "Maybe since the beginning. Maybe since that first night. I don't even know anymore."

"But you didn't say—"

"How could I?" The words came out sharper than I intended.

"We're supposed to be siblings. Every time I looked at you, every time I touched you, I felt like the worst kind of person. I thought I was sick, that something was wrong with me for wanting you the way I did."

"Natasha—"

"Do you know what it's like?" I continued, the confession pouring out now that it had started.

"Sitting across from you at dinner, pretending to be your sister while wanting you so badly I could barely breathe? Watching other women look at you and feeling jealous when I had no right? Lying in bed at night, touching myself and thinking about you, and then hating myself for it?"

His hand came up to cup my face. "I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't. I made sure you wouldn't." I closed my eyes.

"That first night when you came to my room, I told myself it was just physical. Just scratching an itch. But every time after that, it got harder to pretend, and then you'd be rough with me, treat it like just sex, and I would tell myself that's all it was for you. That I was stupid for feeling more."

"I'm sorry." His voice was rough. "I'm so fucking sorry. I didn't see it. Didn't see you, not really. Not until recently."

"When?"

"I don't know exactly, but watching you today with the children..." He pressed his forehead to mine. "I saw who you really are and I couldn't lie to myself anymore."

"And who am I?"

"You're strong, kind and patient. Everything I'm not," He kissed me softly. "I've been a bastard to you. I treated this like something dirty when you deserved better."

"I never asked for better."

"You should have. You should have told me to go to hell."

I laughed, but it came out watery. "I couldn't. I wanted you too much."

"The shame you felt, the guilt, Natasha, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I made you feel like what we had was wrong."

"It is wrong though. We're supposed to be family."

"Fuck what we're supposed to be," His grip on my face tightened. "We're not actually related. The only thing making us siblings is a piece of paper."

"Tell that to everyone else. Tell that to the pack who sees us as brother and sister."

"I don't care what they see," His eyes were fierce. "I love you. I'm in love with you, and I don't want to hide it anymore."

My breath caught. "Mikhail. We have to be careful. If anyone found out—"

"I know. I know we can't go public, but here, when it's just us?" He kissed me again, deeper this time. "I don't want to pretend anymore."

I felt tears prick my eyes. "I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"Of losing this. Of losing you. Of someone finding out and ruining everything." I touched his face. "I've never felt like this about anyone. It terrifies me."

"Me too," He admitted. "I've never said those words to anyone before. I never wanted to, and now I can't stop thinking about them."

We just looked at each other for a long moment, both of us vulnerable in a way we had never been before, then he started moving again, slowly, still buried inside me.

"Let me show you," He murmured. "Let me show you what you mean to me."

It was different this time. He stayed face to face with me, our eyes locked, one hand cradling my head while the other gripped my hip.

Each slow thrust felt deliberate and meaningful. There was no urgency or desperation. Just us, completely present with each other.

"I love you." He said again, and this time he didn't sound scared. He sounded certain.

"Mikhail—" My voice broke.

"Say it. Please. I need to hear you say it."

"I love you," The words came out as barely a whisper. "I love you so much it scares me."

He kissed me deeply, his rhythm never faltering. I could feel tears on my cheeks but I didn't know if they were mine or his. Everything felt too big and too overwhelming.

"Look at me," He said when I tried to close my eyes. "Stay with me. Let me see you."

So I kept my eyes open, kept looking at him even though it felt like being flayed open.

Every emotion was written on his face. Love and fear and wonder and something that looked like reverence.

"You're so beautiful," He breathed. "So fucking perfect. How did I not see it before?"

I couldn't answer. I could only hold onto him as the pleasure built slowly between us. This wasn't like our usual frantic coupling. This was making love and it was real, honest and terrifying.

"I'm close." I whispered.

"Me too. Come with me. Let me feel you."

He shifted slightly, the angle making me gasp, and kept that steady rhythm that was driving me slowly insane. Our foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air, moving as one.

When I came, it wasn't with a scream but with a sob. The release was so intense and so emotional, that I couldn't hold back the tears.

I felt him follow a moment later, his body shuddering against mine, and when I opened my eyes I saw tears on his face too.

We stayed like that, wrapped around each other, both crying quietly. It should have been awkward or embarrassing, but it wasn't.

It felt like something was breaking open. All the walls we had built, all the pretending, just falling away.

"I've got you," He murmured, rolling us to our sides but keeping us connected. "I've got you."

"I know," I buried my face in his neck. "I know."

We held each other in the darkness, both overwhelmed by what had just happened. By what we had finally admitted.

The room was quiet except for our breathing and the occasional sniffle.

"What do we do now?" I finally asked.

"I don't know," His hand stroked my hair. "But we'll figure it out together."

"Together." I repeated, and for the first time since this all started, I let myself believe it might actually be possible.