Chapter 16 - Vasily #2
I smiled and lowered my head, taking one nipple into my mouth. She gasped, her back arching off the mattress, her hands flying to my hair. I lavished attention on one breast, then the other, until she was writhing beneath me, her hips seeking friction.
"Vasily, please—"
"Not yet." I kissed my way down her stomach, pausing at the soft swell beneath her navel. I pressed my lips there, against the place where our child was growing, and felt her tremble.
"Our baby is in there," I murmured against her skin. "Growing inside you. Do you have any idea what that does to me?"
"Show me."
I hooked my fingers in her underwear and drew it down her legs, baring her completely. She was already wet—I could see the evidence glistening in the lamplight. The sight made my mouth water.
I settled between her thighs, spreading her open with my thumbs. She was beautiful here too—pink and swollen and aching for me. I leaned in and breathed against her, watching her shiver.
"Vasily—"
I licked her, one long stroke from entrance to clit. She cried out, her thighs clamping around my head, her hands fisting in the sheets. I did it again, slower this time, savoring the taste of her.
"More," she gasped. "Please, more."
I gave her more. I traced patterns with my tongue, circling her clit, dipping inside her, learning what made her gasp and what made her moan. She was so responsive, so uninhibited in her pleasure, that I nearly forgot my own need.
"I want to feel you come on my tongue," I said against her flesh. "Can you do that for me?"
"Yes—God, yes—"
I sealed my mouth over her clit and sucked. Her hips bucked off the bed, her cries echoing off the walls. I slid two fingers inside her, curling them to find the spot that would push her over the edge.
It only took a minute. She shattered with my name on her lips, her inner walls clenching around my fingers, her whole body shaking with the force of her release. I worked her through it, gentling my touch as the waves subsided, until she was limp and panting beneath me.
"That was—" She struggled to catch her breath. "I've never—"
"We're just getting started."
I crawled up her body, settling between her thighs. My cock was painfully hard, aching for her, but I held myself back. This wasn't about me. This was about showing her, with my body, everything I couldn't put into words.
I positioned myself at her entrance and pushed in slowly—inch by inch, giving her time to adjust. She was still tight from her orgasm, her walls gripping me like a fist. The sensation was almost too much. I had to stop, buried to the hilt, and breathe through the urge to move.
"You feel incredible," I groaned. "So tight. So wet. So perfect."
"Move." She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper. "Please, Vasily. I need you to move."
I moved.
Not fast, not rough. Slow, deep strokes that filled her completely, that let her feel every inch of me. I braced myself on my forearms, caging her body with mine, and watched her face as I made love to her.
Because that's what this was. Not fucking, not claiming. Making love. To the woman carrying my child. The woman who'd somehow become everything.
"Open your eyes," I commanded softly. "Look at me."
Her lashes fluttered open. Her eyes were dark, dazed, full of pleasure and something deeper. Something that made my chest ache.
"I see you," I said, echoing her words from weeks ago. "All of you. The fear and the strength and the fire. I see everything you try to hide."
"Vasily—"
"And I want it all." I thrust deeper, harder, punctuating each word. "Every part of you. Every day, for the rest of our lives."
She made a sound that was half sob, half moan. Her nails raked down my back, leaving trails of fire. I felt her starting to tighten around me again, felt the telltale flutter of approaching release.
"Come with me," she gasped. "I want to feel you come inside me."
The words snapped whatever control I had left. I drove into her harder, faster, chasing the peak we were both climbing toward. Her cries grew louder, more desperate. My own release built at the base of my spine, coiling tighter with every thrust.
"Now," I groaned. "Come for me now."
She fell apart. Her back arched, her walls clamped down around me, and she screamed my name loud enough to wake the entire island.
The sensation dragged me over the edge with her.
I buried myself to the hilt and came harder than I ever had in my life, pulsing inside her, filling her with everything I had.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. We stayed tangled together, breathing hard, hearts pounding in syncopation. I was still inside her, unwilling to break the connection, to lose this closeness.
"That was different," she said finally, her voice soft with wonder. "From the first time."
"Yes."
"Why?"
I pulled back enough to meet her eyes, brushing sweat-damp hair from her face. "Because this time, I wasn't just taking something. I was giving something too."
"Giving what?"
Everything, I thought. My future. My protection. My soul, if I have one left.
But I couldn't say that. Not yet. Not when the words felt too big, too dangerous.
Instead, I kissed her—soft and slow, a promise without words—and rolled us onto our sides, pulling her back against my chest. My hand found its way to her stomach, resting there like it belonged.
"Sleep," I murmured against her hair. "I'll be here when you wake up."
"You'd better be."
She was asleep within minutes, her breathing evening out, her body relaxing into mine. I held her in the darkness, feeling her heartbeat against my palm, imagining the second heartbeat growing beneath it.
A child. A family. Something I'd never thought I'd have, never thought I deserved.
I pressed a kiss to the back of her neck and made a silent vow.
Nothing would touch them. Not Pankratov, not any enemy, not the violence that had defined my entire life. Whatever it took, whatever it cost, I would keep them safe.
Both of them.
My wife and my child.
My everything.