Chapter 18

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Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of this story. These characters belong to Richelle Mead

My weeks at the academy passed quickly and I hadn't seen much of Dimitri since that morning in the cafeteria. I assumed he was taking shifts. He had come to my room on Friday night, two nights ago, and ended up falling asleep on my bed. We hadn't spoken much before his light snores filled the room.

It was Sunday night and I was just finishing off my Animal Behaviors homework. I didn't mind doing the home for a subject I liked.

A knock sounded at the door and I already knew who it was. His aftershave filled my nose as the door creaked open and then shut. I didn't know what to say to him but a million words flowed from me to his chocolate brown orbs.

"Let's go," he whispers huskily.

I melt in his embrace, letting him lead the way. And when we're about halfway there, I realize with a sense of sweet nostalgia where he's taking me.

We arrive and he pulls out a lighter. The blaze in the fireplace creates a new atmosphere, the only light in the old cabin being its crimson flames. He cups my waist and pulls me closer to him, close enough for me to hear his Russian murmurs.

Slowly the electricity sparks between us, and it's like nothing happened. We were once again in sync and our passion intensified. Taking the initiative, I pull his face down to meet mine. My lip brushes across his and the smoldering look in his eyes grows stronger. He kisses me, this time, more forcefully, his hand brushing my sides. That feeling runs up and down my sides and I know that I am done for.

Wrapping my legs around his waist, he carries me over to the bed and lays me against the familiar quilt. In a few seconds we're peeling each other's clothes off and trying to get kisses in between. Dimitri kisses down my neck and along my collarbone. He looks into my, asking that question. The one every gentleman asks.

"Yes," I whisper, leaning back with a sultry smirk. We unite in the most intimate of ways. Every caress, every kiss, every touch is a stanza of amorous poetry. He knows exactly what I want. Not in that sense, no. I mean, he knows that all I want is to be loved. Someone who thinks that I'm worth loving. Someone who's willing to love and care for a girl as damaged as me. That's all I want.

Dimitri tightened his embrace and I snuggled into his side, closing my eyes. He smelled like aftershave and deodorant and just him. I wish that when I woke up, I didn't have to return to my reality.

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