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Who was he?
She came up behind him, molding her body to warm his, stroking down his frontside. Her warm caresses were kind, gave him energy, pride. His heart swelled under this simple affection he’d been missing these past years.
“What’s wrong, Dimitri?”
“Just can’t sleep. I’d like to. But…” He turned and put his arm around her shoulder. “I’m not sure I can just spend the whole evening doing this, because I’m anxious we’re losing precious time.”
“But you said—”
“Yes, and I meant it, too.” He kissed her. Kissed her eyes and her lips then her neck tenderly. “The more I love you, the more I don’t want to lose you. I focused so much on getting here and finding you. Now I don’t want it to end. But if we don’t make a strategy and stick to it, smartly, none of us will survive.”
She stood in front of him, also watching the lights.
“Am I not enough?” she whispered.
“Sweetheart, nothing could be further from the truth. You’re everything I want and would ever need.” He felt her breasts, let his forefinger trace down the back of her spine. His palms rubbed over her butt cheeks. Her flawless body was more exciting to him now than it ever had been, and she was nearing forty. He placed his palm on her belly.
“I want to put a child there, Moira. How can we do that if the world is going to fall apart for us? I have to build the house where we’ll be safe forever. We can’t ignore what’s so.”
What are you going to do? It is what it is.
They stood framed by the low lights of the village below, the heat rising between them once again. Her eyes looked up at him, worry lines marring her forehead.
“You’re scaring me, Dimitri.”
“Part of my training, sweetheart. It’s why you called me. I can’t help it.”
“Then we should talk. How can I help?”
She slipped away from him and put on a silk robe but left it open down her frontside. She brought two bottled waters from the kitchen, and they drank. He finished his. She was delicately sipping hers, watching the activity below. Droplets fell onto her chest as she stared at him with honest eyes, challenging his demons.
She was well aware of her effect on him.
He sat on the bed and pulled her on top of his lap. Her legs wrapped around his waist. Her hot, swollen sex rubbed against his member, that gentle tease to take him to the next level. He focused on how their bodies moved as she rose to her knees, placed him between her thighs, and sat down until he was fully seated deep inside.
The glorious connection between them made his skin tingle all over. The furnace of his soul roared to life.
He pushed the robe off her shoulders, and she arched backward, her frontside creating a beautiful strong bow. He leaned over her, held her back with his arms, and kissed her breasts. Then his lips swept down between them as she undulated, clutching his deepness, her naked need on full display.
“Moira, are you bewitching me?” he whispered to her belly button.
She slowly rose, holding her hair on top of her head, pressing her breast into his mouth. “God, Dimitri, I hope so. I need more of this. Then we’ll talk.”
It was a bargain he could live with.
He was starvingin the morning. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since he’d eaten. She called a bakery café, and a few minutes later, a young boy delivered two lattes, some brioche, and two egg and croissant sandwiches. They sat at the tiny kitchen table to enjoy their meal.
She fed him, tearing off little pieces of brioche, holding the coffee cup to his lips, and kissing his lips in between.
He liked being tinkered with, teased, and kissed. Fed. Loved the feel of her hands on his thighs, on his shaft, places that had not had a woman’s touch for months.
They were supposed to talk, but she kept sitting there with that robe open down the front, her scent everywhere.
He put his chin on his hands, elbows on the table between them, studying her.
“You’re going to ask me if I’m ready,” she whispered.
“And you’re stalling.”
