Chapter 104 STRONG TOGETHER
Chapter 104 STRONG TOGETHER
••Roman••
We walked out of the cemetery gates, our fingers interlaced so tightly it felt as though our skin might merge.
I could feel the slight tremor in Luciana’s hand, a lingering aftershock of the guilt that had been hollowed out of her over the last two weeks. Her eyes were still swollen, a vivid, painful red that stood as a testament to every tear she had shed in the silence of my absence.
I hated that Marco had done this to her. I blamed myself for that night at the gala, for leaving her side, for allowing that serpent to whisper his poison into her ear. I had known Marco was a master of the mind, and yet I had left my gates unguarded.
When I saw her standing there at the grave, looking so small and shattered, I knew the game of silence had to end. I didn't want to punish her anymore. I just wanted my wife back.
“So, brother,” I had whispered back at the headstone, “I’m taking your permission to finally take her as my wife. Truly.”
She had squeezed my hand then, her voice a fragile chime in the wind. “And I’m taking your permission to take Roman as my husband. No more secrets."
I dismissed the guard who had brought her, sending him back to the estate with a flick of my wrist. I wasn't ready to go back to that house. It was too full of prying eyes and the heavy expectations of the Orlov name.
Instead, I drove us to the Aurora, one of the flagship hotels my family owned on the outskirts of the city. I bypassed the lobby, taking her straight to the executive suite—a glass-walled sanctuary that overlooked the twinkling lights of a city that didn't know we existed.
“How many of these do your family own again?”
Luci asked as the double doors clicked shut behind us. She wandered into the center of the room, her eyes marveled at the sight. The suite was a masterpiece of velvet, gold leaf, and dark marble.
“I can’t give you an exact count right now, Princess,” I said, leaning against the doorframe and watching the way the lamplight caught the gold in her hair. “But you cannot imagine the reach of the Orlovs. We don’t just own buildings; we own the foundations they sit on.”
“Wow,” she breathed, finally letting herself collapse onto the massive king-sized bed. The tension seemed to leave her body all at once.
“Only the Orlovs would have a room this decadent. You can’t find this just anywhere.”
“Now you’re outdoing yourself,” she sneered playfully, though there was no heat in it. “My family owns properties, too, you know.”
“Your family?” I let out a short, genuine laugh, walking over to join her. “Darling, your brothers can come and learn from the best whenever they like. We hire the hands that build the dreams.”
“Enough of the bragging, Roman,” she sighed, reaching out to tug at my hand.
I lay down beside her, the silk duvet cool beneath us. We stared up at the ceiling together, the silence finally becoming something beautiful rather than something heavy.
“What are we looking at?” I finally broke the quiet.
“Our future,” she answered softly.
“I see. Is it beautiful?”
“Oh, yes,” she whispered, her voice hitching.
“Very, very beautiful.”
“I’m glad, then.” I turned my head to the side, finding her already looking at me.
Our lips were inches apart, the air between us charged with a sudden, electric heat that made my heart hammer against my ribs. The two weeks of hunger, of longing, and of shared pain culminated in a single moment. I leaned in, and our lips met.
It started slow, a mild, hesitant touch as if we were re-learning the map of each other’s souls. But the spark caught quickly. The kiss switched from a plea for forgiveness to a demand for possession. She rolled onto her side, her hands moving frantically over my back, her fingers tangling in my hair as if she feared I might vanish if she let go.
I moved with a hunger I couldn't suppress, my hands rummaging over the curves of her body, reacquainting myself with the silk of her skin. I pulled her closer until there wasn't a breath of space between us. Every touch was an apology; every groan was a vow.
The foreplay was a slow burn of desperation. I traced the line of her throat with my tongue, listening to the jagged hitch in her breath that drove me mad.
My hands found the hem of her suit, stripping away the armor she had worn to the council, leaving her bare and beautiful in the amber light. She was shivering, not from cold, but from the sheer force of the urge rolling through us.
When the heat became unbearable, I pulled back for a fleeting second to retrieve a condom from the nightstand. I could see the fire in her eyes, her chest heaving, her lips swollen from my kisses.
“Do you always have one ready?” she teased, her voice a breathy velvet.
“Shhh,” I growled, silencing her with another deep kiss.
I moved between her legs, my body shielding hers from the rest of the world. As I thrusted into her, the sound she made a high, broken moan of my name, shattered the last of my restraint.
We moved together in a frantic, rhythmic dance. It was a chaotic switch between soft, desperate slow-strokes and a rough, wild urgency that spoke of everything we had almost lost. I watched her face, the way her eyes fluttered shut and her head tossed back against the pillows, her skin flushed and glowing. She was mine. Entirely, irrevocably mine.
As we hit the climax, the world outside the glass walls ceased to exist. There was only the sound of our joined breathing and the frantic pulse of our hearts.
When we were finally exhausted, we collapsed into each other’s arms, our naked, bare skin slick with sweat. Luciana wrapped herself around me, hugging me so tight it felt as if she wanted to crawl inside my skin, to bury herself in the center of me where no one could ever reach her again.
“I love you,” she whispered against my chest, her voice muffled but certain.
I wrapped my arms around her, caressing her hair as the adrenaline faded into a deep, soul-shaking peace.
“I love you too, Princess,” I murmured, kissing the top of her head.
We lay there in the quiet of the executive suite, the alliance and the war forgotten for one night.
We were no longer heirs or pawns. We were just two people who had walked through the fire and come out on the other side, finally whole.