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I shake my head. “Nothing, just…remembering some stuff.”
God, he feels like home.
“Good stuff, I hope?” he asks, his lips brushing against the nape of my neck. I can practically hear the smile in his voice.
I roll over to face him. “The best stuff. You.”
His eyes soften, and I’m not sure how, but I fall a little more in love with him right now.
He moves closer to me, laying a sequence of soft kisses on my forehead that make me tingle all over.
“You make it so easy to fall asleep and so difficult to leave this bed,” he whispers into my ear.
My whole body responds, every cell ignited, as if he’s struck a match and set me ablaze. I’m flooded with the need to feel even closer to him, to close the gap between us until there’s no space left for anything but the electric energy we generate together.
Emboldened, I reach up and capture his lips. The kiss is heated, passionate, our mouths moving in a synchronized dance as if they were meant to do just this.
He groans softly, “Fuck,” as my fingers trail down his abdomen, feeling every tense muscle along the way.
As if on cue, his hand reaches for my breast, which swells more now. His thumb and forefinger teasing my sensitive nipple.
“Luka…”I can’t hold back the moan that slips out. The pleasure ripples through me, a warm wave that starts where his fingers touch me and flows all the way down.
I wrap around his cock, already so hard. His eyes meet mine, glowing with a mix of desire and something deeper, something eternal.
“You are so beautiful,” he breathes, and the words feel like a caress, reaching parts of me that his hands haven’t touched yet.
The depth of emotion is almost too much, so I channel it into action. I shift to straddle him, guiding him as I sink down onto him.
“Oh, God, you feel good,” I husk, relishing the completeness, the oneness that comes from being filled by him. “Riding you never gets old,” I say, making eye contact as a blush colors my cheeks.
“Feel free to take the reins anytime, krasotka,” he smirks, his thumb sweeping along my jawline. The touch is straightforward but resonant, as if he’s getting to the core of me. When he thrusts upwards, hitting just the right angle, I can’t hold back.
“Oh, God! Fuck yes.”
He holds my hips, keeping me there, as if he’s claiming every part of me with his gaze, his touch, his body. And I feel it, the delicious tension, the mounting climax.
“Now! I’m coming now!” My body shakes, my vision blurs, but all I can feel, all I can know in that moment, is him.
Lying side by side on the bed, our faces nearly touching, a silence envelops us. It’s a silence that’s not empty but full – full of a comfort and understanding that words often fail to capture.
Our breaths sync up as if our bodies inherently know how to fall in rhythm with each other.
His eyes bore into mine, and the emotion I glimpse there almost shatters me. There’s a deep-rooted sorrow, a concealed agony that even his captivating blue eyes can’t fully hide.
A lump forms in my throat as I softly hum the lyrics to a song that feels almost too fitting.
“No one knows what it’s like…
to be a bad man…
to be a sad man…behind blue eyes.”
My eyes well up, betraying my attempts to keep emotions at bay.
Pregnancy hormones again, amplifying every freaking feeling.
Summoning the courage to touch his face, my fingers trace the contours of his skin with a gentle reverence.
