I don’t want to leave heaven. But I have no choice.
And it really is heaven.
I wake up wrapped in the inked arms of my Russian, his tongue tracing patterns on the back of my neck. My lower half wakes up with a vengeance, eager to please. To be pleased. The tightening of those delicate muscles hurts, though, from having Aleksei inside me so many times since yesterday. A flush moves over my cheeks remembering the things he said to me in the darkness last night. When we see your father someday in the future, you will call me Daddy, Georgina. He will know I’ve claimed his little girl in every way imaginable, and his responsibility to you is gone. If he needs convincing, he’ll take the place of the priest next time.
My agreement, my screams echo in my ears, and wetness trickles onto the mate
