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Aiming is tricky. You have to pay attention to the side to side and also the up and down. But I get the hang of it.
“I’ll get a scope on there for you,” Grim promises. “That’ll make it easy to put your target in the crosshairs.”
Grim’s hands are on my hips. His face is by my neck. “You are magnificent, my angel.” His fingers grip me. His lips graze the skin above the collar of my sweater. “Seeing you hold a weapon. It makes me so hard for you.” At my back, he presses forward, showing me exactly how hard he is.
I bite my lip and lower the rifle. “I want to learn how to use this, but can the lesson be over for tonight?”
“God, yes.” He takes the gun from me, and with a few quick moves, he detaches the magazine and sets the weapon safely on the table. Then I’m in his arms with my legs around his hips, and his mouth is on mine. Before I know it, we’re on the bed and clinging to each other.
Everything I’m feeling comes crashing down on me. My anticipation over spending tonight with Grim. Rev’s sermon with its dire warning. The state of the world. Everything we’ve all lost. Everything I’ve gained.
Grim mates his mouth with mine in a hungry, delving kiss, and I imagine he’s feeling as many big things as I am. He’s ravenous as he conquers me with kisses, and I’m just as ravenous as I battle his tongue with mine. Our lips meld then fight. They search each other out, then they nip and rub. There’s a desperation to our kissing that makes me burn for more of him.
It’s time.
I’m ready to experience all of Grim, and I know he’s ready too.
Without words, he kneels over me and peels off his layers of shirts. As soon as his chest is bare, my hands get busy relearning his contours. His chest is mounded with muscle and dusted with dark hair. Tan nipples poke through the coarse coat and beckon my fingers to explore. They’re hard, and when I rub my whole palm over them, it makes him groan.
His stomach needs exploring, too. Grim doesn’t have a traditional six-pack. He’s no waxed and oiled underwear model from a Calvin Klein ad. His body is pale and thick and hard everywhere. His muscles aren’t for show. They’re for hard work.
I want him to work hard over me tonight. Ineedhim to.
“Ivan,” I breathe as his hands go to his belt.
“Da,” he says, sliding leather through buckle. He’s confirming what’s happening.
So many things are swirling around inside me. My heart swells with emotion, and every movement and expression from Grim makes that swell ripple and roll like churning waters in a salty sea. I’m restless. I’m hot. I’m scared of the war that’s coming. I’m scared of how much I love this man. I have too many clothes on.
I scramble off the bed, leaving Grim glowering at me like a beast whose meal is trying to run away. But I soothe his worry by yanking my clothes off as fast as humanly possible. Everything goes, and in a few heartbeats, I’m back.
Grim’s arms are around me, and his parted jeans frame his hard penis. For some reason, the rough fabric makes me even hotter. I’m completely nude, but he’s still clothed from the waist down, like he’s so eager to have sex with me that he doesn’t even want to take the time to get undressed.
“You kept your promise,” I say, reaching for what I want most. His…cock is hard and warm in my hand. It throbs when I squeeze it.
His brows raise in question.
“You promised to keep this hard for me.” He breathed the vow when our intimate moments in the dorm today were interrupted by Doc’s charming irreverence and Shep’s lunch call.
“Da.” He nods quickly, cutely. “It has been aching for you. All damn day.” His crooked smile lets me glimpse what he might have been like as a younger man. He was cocky, I bet. Cocky, confident, and filled with love and appreciation for the wife he lost.
“I need you.” I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and bring him in for more kissing, andoh,how amazing it is when his heavy body comes in contact with mine. His chest compresses my breasts. His stomach heats my skin. His hips force my thighs wide. Under my heels, his butt is hard and round and covered in denim.
“I need you,druzhyna.”
That word means wife. I am only twenty, and Grim is much older than me, but age doesn’t matter. I like when he calls me his wife. I love it. It makes my center clench and yearn.
I sink back into his pillow and cling to him with all my strength. I pull us together with arms and legs and suck his tongue into my mouth.
Between my legs, I’m so very wet. I can tell because his cock is slipping over me. The ridged underside of it is humping at me, spreading my wetness and sending eye-rolling zings through my clit at each pass.
“Please, Ivan.”
“Call mecholovik,” he says against my ear. I instinctively know in my heart what those three syllables mean. “I need you,” I say,“Cho-lo-veek.”Husband.
A low, throaty groan rumbles from his chest, and then he shifts his hips. His rubbing cock lines up and kisses the very opening of me.
“Dru-zhy-na.” The word hisses from between clenched teeth. His whole body trembles as he enters me.
