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Relief sweeps across his face — relief and something else. Dimitri’s expression becomes achingly tender as he holds my gaze, withdrawing inch by glorious inch. He enters me again, slower this time, and sets a gentle, torturous rhythm.
I need more.
When he slides into me a third time, I thrust my hips up to meet him. He groans as he fills me even deeper, and I stifle my own cry.
Reaching around to grip his perfect ass, I dig my nails in and drive him harder — faster — with every stroke. Dimitri obliges, meeting me inch for inch until the slap of our bodies fills the room.
I angle my hips so that his tip hits that magical spot just behind my belly button. Over and over again. Shit. The pressure starts to build with a blinding intensity, and I move my hands up to his waist, holding on for dear life as he thrusts into me again and again.
“Fuck, Jules,” he groans, and I realize my pussy is squeezing his cock.
Large as he is, it feels as though we were made for one another, and I never want to let him go. His beautiful length twitches inside me, sending a spasm of pleasure through my center.
“Jules —” he warns as my pussy clenches. But I can’t help it.
My whole body wants Dimitri, and it’s milking him inch by glorious inch. He squeezes his eyes shut, those dark lashes forming shadows on his cheeks, and the pulsing vein in his temple is my only warning before I feel a gush of heat inside me.
He continues to pump in and out, filling me with his seed. Then Dimitri goes still.
He withdraws slowly, and I feel a sudden ache of emptiness. But then he tugs me into his strong arms, and that spicy cedar scent engulfs me.
Warmth blossoms in my stomach as Dimitri buries his face in my neck and coils an arm around my waist. His body feels enormous curled around mine, and I nestle closer, savoring this moment with nothing between us.
But then, before long, a little niggle of a worry starts to creep in. I was so caught up in my need for him that I didn’t insist on using protection. I hadn’t wanted to, if I’m being honest, but it’s possible Dimitri assumed that I was on the pill.
The idea of having his baby sends a bizarre thrill through me, and I mentally slap myself. I barely know this man. I certainly don’t want to end up pregnant.
I clear my throat, suddenly nervous. “So . . . I should probably tell you that I’m not on birth control.”
Dimitri goes still against me. I swallow. Even though the idea of being with him — having babies with him — doesn’t fill me with panic, I don’t want him to think that I’m trying to baby-trap him or anything.
“You won’t get pregnant. Not tonight,” he says softly, and I swear I hear a slight rumble of disappointment in his voice.
“What?” I roll in his arms to look him in the eye, and Dimitri’s expression turns sheepish.
“You only started your cycle a week ago. You aren’t fertile right now.”
I stare at him. I’m a little disturbed that he thinks he knows when I started my period and even more disturbed when I realize he’s right.
My face heats. “How do you know —”
“I’m observant,” he says dryly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and continuing to fuss with the stray little curls that are stuck to my forehead with sweat. “Besides, your scent changes when you’re fertile.”
“My scent?” I repeat. Now I’m sure he’s fucking with me.
Dimitri smiles, looking down at me with hooded, tender eyes. “You don’t have to worry, Jules.”
“I’m a little worried about how I smell to you when I’m —”
I break off, and Dimitri’s whole body starts to quiver. My heart jolts, thinking he’s having some kind of seizure, but then I realize he’s laughing.
In the weeks I’ve spent working for Dimitri, I’ve only gotten this real laugh twice. It reverberates through every bone in my body, warming me from the inside and soaking me in happiness.
I decide it’s my favorite sound in the world, and I want to hear it again and again.
Curling his arm around my shoulders, he pulls me in closer and kisses my forehead. “Get some rest,” he growls. “I’m not promising I’ll be able to let you sleep as long as you’re naked in my bed.”
Chapter Thirteen
