Chapter 61: The Devil Returns Home
Ivan’s lips brushed against Lydia’s neck, soft and warm, like a whisper. Each kiss sent a shiver down her spine. He didn’t rush. He kissed her gently, moving lower, following the curve of her neck down to her back, slowly tracing each line of her spine with his lips until he reached her waist.
She could feel his hands around her, holding her waist, strong but careful, like he was afraid of hurting her. Her skin tingled where he touched. Her breath was shaky. She felt like she was melting under his hands. But just as she started to lean into him, just as her body softened under his touch, he stopped.
He let go.
Lydia blinked, confused. Her heart was beating so fast, her hands trembling, but suddenly, the warmth of him pulled away. She turned around quickly and looked at his face.
His expression startled her.
Ivan’s eyes were distant. His jaw clenched. His face looked like he was at war with himself, like he wanted her—but was forcing himself not to want her. She saw pain written all over him. Not anger. Not coldness. But pain. He looked like a man punishing himself.
"Ivan..." she said softly, her voice barely a whisper.
But he didn’t answer.
He moved back slowly and walked back to the bed. Then he lay down and pulled the blanket over his body, turning away from her.
Her heart dropped.
Something inside her cracked a little. She stood there for a moment, bare in the silence, unsure of what to do. Maybe she should’ve said something. Maybe she should’ve told him she wasn’t scared. That she wasn’t afraid of him. That the fainting wasn’t because of him—it was just too much, everything all at once. Maybe if she had spoken, he wouldn’t be hurting now.