Yanna

Everything fell apart. Everything I worked so hard to build in these last nine years, or ever since I left the orphanage twelve years ago, is shattered, laying around me in pieces that are impossible to glue back together.

But somehow, as I watch Hawk smiling at me while I walk up to where he’s waiting next to our bikes in the parking lot of the hospital I just visited Vlad at, that doesn’t hurt as bad as I always feared it would. It still feels like a new beginning, a new morning, the start of a future I really want to live. That doesn’t make a lot of sense, on the face of it, but I’ve always trusted my feelings more than my head, and it’s worked out alright until now.

“You ready to go for a ride?” he asks once I’m close enough so he can pull me into his arms. The sun is setting purple and orange behind him, and I’ve never been readier to take a ride.

I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him tight, giving him a quick kiss and a playful smile.

“Alright, but I’ll race ya,” I say.

I’ve been cooped up for days and now I need to let it all go. That’s what I feel needs to happen now, and I trust my feelings. His face looks a tiny bit disappointed, despite that big grin that’s only for me.

“I kinda thought you could just get on the back of my bike,” he says.

I kiss him, but softer this time.

“We’ll do plenty of that,” I tell him. “But tonight, I want to race.”

He releases me. “Alright then. But I take competition seriously, and I won’t just let you win.”

“That won’t even become an issue,” I tell him, then get on my own bike.

And later, as we’re riding side by side on an empty road that leads up into the hills, the rumbling of my bike, the sound of his beside me, starts shaking loose the last pieces of my shattered life, turning them to dust as they fall away to reveal a hopeful future, the glorious freedom I can finally embrace with open arms and at full speed. So that’s exactly what I do, gunning my bike and go as fast as I can on the winding road that’s so empty we might as well be alone on an alien planet. But we’re here together and that’s all that matters.

Yuri is no longer a threat, my past is no longer a threat, I’m completely free to live my future. Free to enjoy my life. And there’s no one I’d rather spend it with than the man riding beside me.

So I don’t think twice about slowing down and pulling into a deserted picnic area atop a hill that overlooks the strip. The sun has set almost completely, only a little white and lilac left of the day, but the night sky is full of stars and I need no light to see him.

We’re on the same page about that, in perfect synch. The rumbling of our bikes is just echoes now, but it hasn’t stopped, no, the rumbling and shaking just intensifies as he grabs me and kisses me. All those bright lights in the distance, the ones of the strip and the stars above us are inside me now, sparkling and exploding into millions more, until I know I was right. We don’t need any light to see by. All we need is each other.

He slides my jacket off and the urge to be naked with him, to have nothing separating us, to be as close to him as humanly possible, is so overwhelming I want nothing else than that. Nothing at all. Unless it’s that bliss only he can give me. This isn’t the best place for it, someone might come and join us here at any moment, but I don’t care.

And neither does he, it seems we’re in synch on this too, because before I know it, I’m standing before him in just my bra, my jeans open and pulled down over my hips, the muscles in his arm coiling and flexing as his fingers play with my clit just so, exactly perfectly. His other hand is caressing my nakedness, while his tongue explores my mouth, making the bubbles of bliss only he can give me rise and pop inside me.

My hands are gliding over the taut peaks and valleys of his back and abs, making me think of home, of the rolling green hills in the distance that I loved watching turn green in the spring once the snows melted. His hard dick is pressing against my stomach, and there’s nothing whimsical about wanting to touch it, to free it so I can feel it pulsing inside me.

He gasps as I grab it right through the fabric, because I couldn’t waste any time unbuckling his jeans and fussing with the button or zipper. He does all that for me, his hand still on my clit, turning the bubbles into a boiling frenzy while he frees his cock with his other hand, his tongue wrestling with mine all the while.

For all the timelessness I felt a moment ago, there’s also urgency now, to touch, to kiss, to taste, to have him inside me, where he belongs. But most of all, I need to taste him.

So I grab his wrist and pull away from the kiss, smile and lock eyes with him as I remove his hand from my panties, and kneel in the dirt before him.

The head of his cock is almost too large to fit in my mouth, almost but not quite, because we fit together perfectly in all ways. He groans as I take more of him into my mouth, my eyes still locked on his, his cock growing even larger as it pulses against my tongue. He grabs a fistful of my hair and pushes his cock deeper still, making me gag, but I still don’t break eye contact with him although my eyes are watering now and his face is all blurry. But I still see him clearly. Still feel him. And the taste of him only adds to the bliss boiling inside me, which is ready to overflow. I love the way he takes charge, love the way he can do it so perfectly and how I let him do it so seamlessly, without a thought beyond making this pleasure boiling inside us become all there is.

He pulls his cock out abruptly, and twirls me around, all of it part of the perfect dance we’ve always known separately, but can now finally dance together. The cool air hitting my ass as he pulls my jeans and panties down to my knees is a wonderful reminder that this isn’t over yet, a wonderful refresher before the bubbling bliss finally takes me under. It almost does as his hot, pulsing cock enters me, making us one, making us complete, making me moan so loud it sounds like a scream.

He starts thrusting into me, stirring the already boiling bliss, making it a river that’s impossible to contain, as his cock hits all the right spots inside me every time. The lights all around us aren’t just separate points anymore, but one huge multicolored sun, rising fast, reaching the zenith and shining down, making a morning only for us. I no longer feel the rough wood of the table against my bare stomach, no longer feel the cool wind against my back, or his strong hands as they grip my hips while he thrusts into me with all the urgency that we share. I just feel the bliss, the belonging, the arrival of the only thing I truly need in my life.

We climax at the same time, the light of our sun turning liquid as I sink into the rushing river of pleasure and let it carry me, knowing beyond doubt that it will bring me to the exact spot where I need to be.

And later, as I lay in his arms atop the hard wooden table and the wind turns even cooler, as cold as the winds of winter, I’m not scared anymore. I know, I finally know, that I managed to escape the winter, because his kisses and his embrace are enough to keep me warm forever.

“I really do love you,” he whispers hoarsely into my ear. “You’re a dream come true for me. I never thought I’d find a woman, but you’re it.”

I smile and even though he probably can’t see it with his eyes, I know he does anyway. “My real last name is Sokolova.”

“Yeah, I heard that,” he says, giving me a soft peck on the cheek. “And what a good way to change the subject.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” I say, smiling even more. “Do you know what it means?”

“No idea.”

“It means Hawk’s,” I tell him and smile even wider. “Because “sokol” means “hawk” in Russian, and “ova” means belonging to, or daughter of, but that’s kinda the same thing.”

He raised up while I was talking, so I can look straight into his eyes now.

“Well, I guess it was always meant to be for us then,” he says, grinning at me, his eyes alight despite the darkness.

“Yes, I think it was,” I say and raise my head so I can kiss him. And that kiss is so perfect, so lasting, so warm that no winter can even threaten it.

I never escaped that winter at fifteen, it raged inside me, froze my soul and buried my heart under layers and layers of ice. But now that ice is finally melted, and the winds and the sun are warm again. I’ve finally survived the winter that should’ve killed me. I survived it, so I can fall asleep in his arms now, and tomorrow, and for all the nights after that.