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“Dimitri?” she whispers.
“It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”
“I’m not dreaming?”
I smile, kissing her forehead, savoring her warmth. She wriggles closer to me. Before I forget, I grab my phone from my pocket and set the alarm, leaving it on the nightstand after checking it has enough battery. I wish I could stay here with her forever. Already, she’s making the world seem more bearable.
“No, you’re not dreaming.”
I pull her closer to me, then close my eyes, sinking deeply as though the mattress is swallowing me. Trying not to think about the murder is difficult—the way I plunged the knife into him, the way he squirmed and cried out. More lights switched on, and then I carried him, bleeding, to the car. I called Angelo to tell him what had happened and where to clean up.
“Dimitri?” Lia murmurs, kissing my chest in the semidarkness, the slightly cracked curtains letting in the morning sunlight.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” she says in her classic stubborn voice. “Where wereyoutonight?”
“Remember the men who attacked us?”
“How could I forget?”
I can’t help but smirk at the sassiness in her voice, despite the circumstances, despite everything. “There’s one more we’ll never have to worry about again. This scumbag also confirmed that Nikolai was targetingyou.”
“But I have nothing to do with any of this.” She lets out a shuddering breath. “That man said something like that, too. I guess they think…”
“They canseehow badly I want you,” I growl. “They were watching us. Maybe they saw me waiting for you in your studio.”
“In the office, you mean. It seems so long ago that I was just a regular, boring cleaner.”
“You were never a regular or boring anything,” I tell her, hugging her closer. She rests her cheek against my chest, trailing her fingernails over my stomach, coaxing me closer and closer to sleep.
Closing my eyes, it’s like the patterns on my stomach are drawing shapes in my mind. Dreams swallow me. I smell the faint scent of sweat as I take in my woman’s glee-filled face, red cheeks, and bright, excited eyes. She’s holding a baby in her arms, her hair sweaty across her forehead, her smile so wide as a warm tear flows down my cheek. Then she’s in a massive cavern of a room, billowing white everywhere, as she runs around, laughing, flicking paint, little footsteps following her.
“You’d make a wonderful mother,” I moan at some point, my eyes red as sunlight blares against them.
“Hmm?” she murmurs sleepily, shifting against me.
It’s like we’re sinking into each other. “You’ll be a perfect mother.”
“Hmm,” she says warmly, snuggling closer as we drift back to sleep.
This whole time, my manhood is twitching, almost like it’s talking to me, telling me to wake up, telling me to get ready, telling me to take her right now. Then sleep and dreams drag me down again.
The next time I wake, I’ve got my hand between her legs. I’m rubbing softly, moaning wordlessly, shifting my body against hers. She’s moaning, too, in a quiet, sleepy way. From how her voice shifts, I can tell she’s still half asleep.
“Dimitri?” she murmurs when I stop.
“Yeah?”
“Were you just…”
I smirk. “I woke up, and I was touching your perfect body. I guess the sleepy version of me has his priorities straight.”
I’ve got my hand lightly resting on her leg, near her soaked sex. My manhood was hard already, but it gets even more solid now, my tip throbbing with precome as I slide my hand over her sex again. “You’re wet for me,” I say, voice heavy with desire. “I know my virgin wants to take it slow.”
“I’myourvirgin, am I?”
“Who else’s?” I growl, then rub her horny slit even faster.
