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As the plane reaches cruising altitude and with the steady hum of the engines in the background, we rise together, hand in hand, and make our way to the privacy of the plane's bedroom. The world outside the walls of the jet might be fraught with danger and doubt, but here, in this intimate space, there is only us.
In the seclusion of the bedroom, he gazes at me with an intensity that makes me feel cherished and adored. His words are sweet, each one laced with love and affection.
"I've missed you more than words can say," he murmurs, his fingers deftly unbuttoning my shirt. His touch is gentle, reverent even, and each layer he removes feels like a layer of worry slipping away, leaving only the raw and beautiful truth of us.
When I stand before him, bared to his gaze, he looks at me as if I'm the most precious thing in the world. His hand travels to my belly, a soft caress that speaks of awe and wonder. Then, slowly, his hand drifts lower, finding the warmth between my legs. His fingers are skilled, knowing exactly how to touch me, how to coax the waves of pleasure that soon crash over me.
He kisses me deeply as I crest the wave, my body trembling with release. In his embrace, I feel safe, loved, and utterly alive. His kiss is a promise, his touch a testament to the depth of his love. In this moment, with Damien, everything feels right and perfect—our love, our future, our baby.
I undress Damien, every movement filled with tenderness and admiration. His skin is warm under my fingertips, his muscles firm and reassuring. We exchange kisses, lips, face, neck, body. As I reveal more of him, our kisses grow deeper and more passionate.
Damien gently guides me onto my back, and I feel the softness of the bed beneath me. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer, feeling the strength and warmth of his body against mine. As he positions himself, there’s a moment of intense energy, our eyes locked, conveying everything that words cannot.
He covers my neck in kisses, his arm wrapped around me as his manhood moves closer and closer to just where I want it. I can’t resist reaching down and taking him into my hand, stroking slowly, watching his eyes close as he lets out a low growl of pleasure. He’s so warm and hard in my grip, and I feel my heart beat faster with anticipation.
A sly smirk forms on his lips, and I realize what’s happening. He’s teasing, holding back.
“You love making me squirm like this,” I say. “Making me wait.”
He leans down and kisses me again. “Can you blame me for wanting all the time I can get with the most beautiful woman in the world underneath me?”
My cheeks redden. “Well, when you put it like that…”
His hips relax, his cock pushing inside. I close my eyes and focus on the sensation of him sinking into me, stretching me out in only the way he can. He soon fills me full, his length disappearing between my thighs. I move my hands down the lines of his sides, bringing them to rest on his gorgeous, perfect rear end. Damien’s body is a delight like none other, pure power, like a machine.
Pleasure radiates from me in waves as he pulls back and pushes inside, my breasts rocking back and forth from the collision of our bodies. I hold him close, and he can’t seem to resist kissing me over and over.
There’s something about being with him like this, watching him move over the top of me, knowing I’m carrying his child in my belly. It’s lovemaking in the purest sense, my heart full and warm.
As he moves above me, every thrust is a declaration of love, every touch a promise of a future together. The rhythm we find is both comforting and exhilarating, a dance of two souls perfectly in sync.
Together, we climb toward a peak of pleasure, our bodies moving in perfect unison. He pushes hard into me one last time, and I hold him in place, my own orgasm rushing through me as he releases, pouring himself into me.
We lay in each other's arms afterward, an exchange of whispered I love you feeling like the most natural thing in the world. Wrapped in Damien’s embrace, I feel a sense of completeness I never knew was missing. I’m filled with a sense of peace and contentment. This is where I belong, in Damien’s arms, with our baby growing inside me.
Lying in the cocoon of our embrace, the world outside our private jet seems distant and irrelevant. Damien's touch is soft, his fingers tracing idle patterns on my skin, each caress sending waves of contentment through me. His eyes, usually so fierce and determined, now hold a contemplative softness, a gentle introspection that's as endearing as it is rare.
"What's on your mind?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to break the serene spell that seems to have enveloped us.
He smiles, a thoughtful, almost dreamy expression playing on his lips. "I was thinking about your garden," he says, his gaze lingering on my face. "Back at the house in Moscow. It now appears insufficient."
I can't help but smile, a soft chuckle escaping my lips. "Truth be told, that garden was the only part of that place I actually liked," I confess, recalling the hours I spent among the flowers, seeking solace and a semblance of freedom.
We laugh together, a light, carefree sound that fills the room with warmth. Damien’s laughter is a melody that tugs at my heartstrings, and I find myself falling even more in love with him.
He looks at me, his green eyes sparkling. "When we get through this and when we’ve dealt with your father, I’m going to make you the most beautiful garden in Moscow," he declares, his tone sincere.
Tears prick my eyes, a surge of love and gratitude overwhelming me. The thought of a future, our future, complete with a garden of our own making, is more beautiful than any dream I could conjure.
Without words, I lean in, pressing my lips to his in a kiss that speaks volumes. It’s a kiss of thanks, of love, of shared dreams and hopes. In his arms, I feel safe, cherished, and understood. This man, this incredible man who had entered my life like a tempest, now holds my heart with the gentlest of hands.
Our kiss deepens, a silent conversation between two souls that have found solace in each other. Nothing else matters. We are together, and we are safe. And that is more than enough.
Chapter 35
Damien
We're gathered in one of our temporary hideouts, a nondescript building in the heart of Moscow, far from prying eyes. My brothers and their wives, each a pillar of strength in their own right, show signs of strain. It's been a tough few weeks.
