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Settling on top of him, my thighs on either side of his hips, I tease his shaft behind my back. I’m fascinated by his face. His expression is one of wanton joy. I can feel his hands tighten their grip against mine, as if he’s on the verge of fighting me for control.
Suddenly, I feel nervous. I’m too aware of my belly and how it’s starting to protrude. The bump is subtle, but at this angle, I can see it clearly. The pregnancy is starting to change me, and although I have never been a shallow person, I’m feeling very much not in my own skin.
What is he thinking? He said I was beautiful, but ...
Arsen speaks, interrupting my thoughts. “Stop it.”
I startle. “What?”
“Stop doubting yourself,” he replies. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re thinking about how you look. Stop it.”
Blushing, I do the opposite and think more. I release his hands and circle my arms around to block his view of my naked body.
Arsen snarls, gripping my wrists to force my hands away.
“Arsen—”
“Never hide yourself from me.” His eyes flash with a demanding presence that sets my blood pumping. I’m almost excited by how angry he sounds. “Understand? You’re my wife, now and always. No matter how much you change, I will always find you beautiful. Irresistible. Because you’re you. And that’s what I’m attracted to.”
I feel tiny buzzes of excitement shivering through my body like champagne bubbles. It’s the same feeling I felt the night at the ballet, when he knelt between my knees and pleasured me in that empty theater meant only for us. Each swish of his tongue and each kiss he left against my thighs was a promise. The promise of pleasure. The promise of forever. The promise that he is a man who leaves no doubts on the table.
Lowering myself, I push my tender breasts into his hard chest and let my hair fall around us in a curtain to hide us from the world. I kiss him again and again until my lips go numb. His hands free now, he traces the familiar lines of my spine until they rest on my lower back. Holding me steady, he enters me with his massive girth.
I gasp and moan at the familiar sensation of him. I really did miss this. The moment he stretches my walls, I feel a new sensation filling my body. Not just pleasure. Not just desire.
But the feeling of being home.
It’s a feeling I thought I’d never experience again. But in a single swift motion, Arsen has reminded me that I will always have a place by his side.
He rocks inside of me at a slow pace—a demonstration of his iron discipline. As much as we lust for each other, neither of us wants this to end.
For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not thinking about my troubles. Danger and death are banished from my mind. Here and now is all that matters. Arsen’s firm arms … his gentle caresses, the way he finds the dimples on my hips and explores them as he slowly fucks me and draws out ripples of pleasure coursing through my core …
This is my world.
This is where I belong.
He moans my name. And I moan his in response. Our voices entwine together like two strands of the same melody—simultaneously a promise and a wish for this to be all we ever want to think about again. The ability to form coherent thoughts flitters away from my mind with each second he buries himself inside me, and I don’t care. Our movements are perfectly timed—he rolls his hips and I sit back onto his length. He pulls back, and I rise to tease him at my entrance.
It’s as if the two of us can read each other’s mind.
In that moment, you’d never dare to imagine that there could be secrets between us.
That there are secrets between us.
A bolt of pleasure—slowly rising since the moment he walked into my room—finally tears through my body. It starts in my core and radiates out, leaving delicious heat in its wake as it works its way over my skin. It blooms into being with each bead of sweat rolling down my face, my breasts, my legs, and my belly.
It leaves me breathless and gasping. My back arches instinctively. My toes curl as if they have a will of their own. I squeeze my eyes shut as stars explode across the darkness behind my eyelids. A deep, guttural cry punches from the depths of my throat. I couldn’t hold it back even if I wanted to.
And I don’t want to.
The wake of my orgasm leaves me trembling, and I collapse onto Arsen. But he’s not done yet.
“I love you,” I whisper, panting, into his ear.
He clutches me tighter, his speed increasing. “I love you too, ptichka.” His teeth grit together. His strong arms grip, moving me along with him. His pace begins to quicken until it’s a blur. I know he’s not holding back now. My release has broken his control, and his facade is slipping with every thrust.
His brow furrows like he’s exerting himself. It’s the only warning I get before he holds me close and roars as he floods my insides. Reflexively, our bodies keep moving as if they are mindless automatons, sending shock waves of pleasure rippling long after we’re both finished.
