Chapter 24 - Anton #2
“Anton,” Darya pants, and I nip at her hipbone, nuzzling my cheek against her belly, where she’s growing our child.
“Anton, please,” she whimpers, her hips snapping up again.
I can feel the dampness at the V of her shorts, and I palm her pussy through the fabric.
I hiss a breath through my teeth. But I let her hands twist in my hair and pull me back up her body, just so I can capture her mouth in a careful kiss.
A kiss that’s slow and thorough, and leaves her looking utterly starry-eyed when I rear back.
“I fucking love you,” I say. “So fucking much.”
Darya lifts a hand to my face, her thumb running beneath my eye. “I know you do,” she says, her voice low and just a little bit broken. I turn my face into her touch and graze my teeth over the heel of her hand. My hips buck against her, giving her the friction her pelvis pursues so needily.
It isn’t enough, not for her, and not for me.
I’m almost surprised she tolerates it for as long as she does before her hands start impatiently fumbling with my belt, then the button of my trousers.
I’m quick to pull down her shorts, just in time to sigh through a hiccup of pleasure when her fingers finally wrap around me, hot and sure. Oh, God.
My head falls against the crook of her neck with a groan.
I’d been so lost in having her beneath my hands again that my own body had become an afterthought. My cock makes up for it now, leaking over her fist. A fire blazes low in my belly, and every time I grind down against her simply stokes it. Makes it hotter. Burns me alive.
“Fuck, Darya.”
She’s fucking relentless, her strokes unceasing, even as she notches my tip at her entrance.
Her cunt is already so slick, so hot, so fucking ready for me.
I try to slide in slowly—and her ankles lock behind my back and viciously drag me all the way home.
Like she didn’t hit the nail into her own coffin, she cries out at the fullness; the sound nearly drowned out by my own moan.
I mouth along her collarbone. “I’ve got you,” I swear, pulling an arm back to circle at her clit, rubbing her until she’s squirming, her muscles tremoring with need.
“Fuck me,” Darya says, leaning up on her elbows to suck at my lower lip. She fucking bites down on it, pulling another groan from me, before she lets it go. “Now, baby. Please.”
I nod, my mouth left open, and slide almost all of the way out before I slam back into her. Her nails bite into my arms on either side of her head, clutching at me like she needs to hold onto something as she drops her head back and sees stars.
“Oh, God,” Darya cries, and I drop onto my forearms to lick at the sweat in the hollow of her throat. I keep fucking into her, setting a pace that isn’t fast, but hard and deep, every thrust lifting her hips off the seat and pulling whines from her throat.
Our bodies slot together like we were made for each other.
I move in steady, intense propulsions, driving into her, pounding our slick flesh together, and eventually shift the angle just slightly. “Anton, fuck, oh my God,” she gasps, clenching around me, and I go double-time, hitting that angle every time.
A barrage of cries, moans, whimpers and gasps of breath that fissure before she’s all the way through pour out of her swollen mouth.
Amidst it all, “You’re mine,” Darya says, her voice breaking a little, and I drop my forehead against hers.
I am, I am, I fucking belong to her, and I will never take that goddamn privilege for granted again.
“I’m close,” I pant out against her mouth, my eyes rolled back in my head.
She whimpers into the kiss, and her walls flutter around my cock in a way that starts a buzzing in my spine as I rock into her.
“Cum in me,” Darya begs.
“I need—with me, malyshka, I’m so fucking close, and I need to make you—” I can’t even finish the words, my chest heaving and my universe the twin pools of blue I look down into.
“I love you,” I say, mouthing at the corner of her mouth.
I’m amazed I still have to say it. I feel like it’s blazing from my eyes, like it’s seeping from my skin, like astronauts and satellites should be able to see it from space.
Eyes squeezing closed, Darya lets out a fragile sound, her hand searching for mine to lace her fingers through. “Say it again,” she pleads weakly.
“I love you,” I tell her again, and I don’t think I’m crying, but there’s a lump in my throat.
That’s all it fucking takes. She cries out and begins to shake against me, her sweet cunt milking my cock until I am shuddering and groaning one last time, coming hot and pulsing inside of her, and the realization that hearing the words I love you from my mouth just made Darya come undone.
My arms slide around her waist to hold her as close as I can, and all I can do is bury a shout in her shoulder and wait out the aftershocks.
As they fade, I realize I’m still talking, mumbling, “I love you, I love you, you’re mine too and I fucking love you,” into her sweaty skin, “I love you, and I’m never going to let you go again, I love you,” desperate to put my hands everywhere and fucking prove it to her, to my wife, my lover, my very best friend.
“Anton,” Darya gasps, her body seizing up again in my arms.
“You’ve got me, you have me,” I vow, nuzzling up under her chin and smoothing my hand through damp, black curls.
“I’m so terribly in love with you,” she says in a ruined voice, and I’ve never believed someone so much in my life.
The sky lighting up around us, in preparation for a new dawn, can’t hold a candle to her beauty in this moment.
I need this forever.