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The kind that could make me forget everything I know I’m supposed to feel.
VIKTOR
Ihadn’t realized how self-conscious Caterina really was or that she’d believed I’d never want her again. It’s hard for me to fathom because I want her more than ever despite everything that’s been done to her. She’s more beautiful than she’s ever been to me because I’ve seen for myself over the past days, and especially today, how strong she is. How resilient.
I hadn’t been sure if I’d made the right choice in a bride, but I know now that I did. Caterina is everything that I believed she was and more. And I feel sure that when we leave this place, when I stop Alexei and bring my empire back under my control, she’ll be the kind of bride that I can rely on to be at my side.
Seeing her tremble beneath me, her hands grabbing mine when I went to take her shirt off, makes me want to be tender with her, to show her exactly how beautiful I really do find her. All of the ferocity and passionate desire that had burned inside of me when I brought her into the cabin has changed into something gentler, more muted. I still want her, my body aching for more even though I came harder than I had in weeks only a few minutes ago, but now I want something different.
I want to wipe that fear away from her face. I want to feel her go soft and yielding beneath me again, to trust me. I want her to believe me when I say that I find her just as beautiful as I always have. And I know no other way than to show her.
I know, deep down, that these feelings are teetering on the edge of something that I don’t dare put a name to. Something that could change things between us forever.
But I don’t think too hard about it as I whisper reassurance to her, as I run my lips over the bruises on her throat that those monsters left. Her soft flesh beneath my mouth feels as good as it always has, her sharp collarbone a harsh line that I soften with my tongue. When she asks me to take my clothes off, too, I feel a sudden pulse of desire that feels altogether different than anything I’ve felt for her before.
Her eyes are tightly shut, her body tense and frightened, and there’s a strange intimacy in the moment. I know that she’s not asking me to get undressed because she’s horny or because she has a deep need to see my naked body. I know it’s because she feels vulnerable right now, half-naked with me fully clothed other than my softened cock outside of my jeans, and she can’t let me take that next step unless I’m as naked as I plan for her to be.
There was a time when I would have ignored her request, would have taken pleasure in the power of stripping her bare while I remained fully clothed. But not now. Now, I feel something different.
I feel things for Caterina that I never have before. Possessive. Protective, even. I think of the night when I went into her room and watched her sleep, and I know that there’s another word that could be used, too.
Obsessive.
Addicted,maybe.
Her eyes stay tightly shut while I strip naked, tossing my clothes onto the floor. Something about the moment feels more intimate than ever before, the world narrowed down to this hard bed in this remote cabin, and it’s hard to remember where we are or the circumstances of it.
All I can think about is Caterina.
I tell her to open her eyes when I’m straddling her hips, fully naked at last. I see her dark eyes skim over my body nervously, down my chest to the slightly swollen cock hanging between my thighs. A little of my arousal returned from kissing her and stripping down naked in front of her. The way her gaze lingers on it makes it thicken even more, a pulse of blood swelling it to a half-erection, and I make a noise deep in my throat as I bend forward to kiss her breast.
I whisper to her how beautiful she is, how lovely, kissing every inch of bare, unmarked skin that I can find as I make my way down her body. I’ve never gone down on a woman after I’ve just come inside of her, but I don’t even think about it as I slide my mouth down her belly, to her hips, down to the part of her that I want to taste.
After all of this, I want to give her pleasure that’s only for her. I want to feel her unwind and come apart, let her experience again what it feels like to let go. To not have to think, just for a few moments.
The sounds she makes as I lick her, as I run my tongue over her soft wet flesh, around her clit and over again, testing and teasing, are music to my ears. I know that it won’t always be like this between us. It can’t be. But for a brief time, at least, we can lose ourselves in this.
I want to help her heal from what was done to her. It’s why I gave her Stepan to kill instead of doing it myself as I would have liked to. It’s why I pushed her to take her revenge and why I want her to know exactly how beautiful I find her, despite everything.
What’s happened to her could have broken a lesser person. I know that it won’t break her. It clearly hasn’t yet. But I want to do all I can to bring her back from it.
I tighten my mouth around her, sucking, drawing all of that hot, swollen flesh into my mouth. She cries out with an almost anguished sound of pleasure that I’m not sure I’ve ever heard from her before. I feel her shiver, a rippling spasm passing through her entire body. I press my palms against the inside of her knees, where the flesh is smooth and unbroken, pushing her thighs wider so that I can get access to as much of her as possible. I can feel her tightening, her body on the verge of climax, and I keep going, pushing her towards the edge as she starts to squirm under my hands.
When the climax breaks over her, it’s hard and fast, and I feel her convulse, her arousal flooding over my tongue as she bucks against my face, coming harder even than she did on my cock a few minutes ago. I can feel the ripples of her climax, the muscles in her legs tightening. She cries out, again and again, her head tossed back as I keep licking and sucking, swirling my tongue around her clit until she finally pushes at my shoulder, gasping.
“I can’t—it’s too sensitive—” her hips buck as I give her one final lick, running my tongue over her pulsing clit as I move backward, kissing her inner thigh again before pushing myself up to stretch alongside her.
I can’t gather her into my arms the way I would like to; she’s still too injured for that. But I can lie there next to her, my hand touching an uninjured space on her upper arm. She’s still panting, her eyes closed as she rides out the last aftershocks of pleasure.
When Caterina finally turns her head to meet my eyes, I let her see in my face how beautiful I think she is still, letting my gaze drift down the length of her body and back up again. It’s true that she doesn’t look like she did when I married her. She’s thinner, her skin paler, her body even more fragile than it was back then. But those things can change. And if she’s physically scarred from this experience, then it won’t matter to me.
“You look gorgeous when you come,” I tell her, my fingers stroking that small patch of skin on her upper arm. “And beautiful afterward, all flushed and messy.”
Caterina drops her gaze, her cheeks flushing even more, and she reaches for the blanket to cover herself, but I reach out and stop her.
“I want to look at you a little while longer,” I tell her, my hand resting on the flat of her belly. She flinches when I touch her there, and I’m unsure why, but I move it anyway, returning it to her arm.
Caterina doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t move my hand or try to cover up again either. We lie there in silence for a little while, the only sound in the room our mingled breathing, until finally she sighs and turns to look at me.
