RPOV
For the first time in months, I don't wake to an alarm or Dimitri slipping out before anyone else wakes. I surface to warn citrus and cotton, his arm flung over my stomach as he sleeps on his front. Somewhere during the day we've uncurled from each other but even in dreaming he's reached for me, ensuring we're not separated.
The covers are tucked around my waist and even with the distance between us I can feel the heat radiating off him. I'd probably rolled away trying to cool down. I wonder if I'll grow used to that abnormal body temperature he runs and if I don't, well, it's not a hardship to have to sleep naked beside him.
I shift onto my side and begin my ritual of appreciating. That's when I notice the pink lines. I blink and lean up, shock cleaving through my morning daze. Over Dimitri's shoulder blades, his waist, and even the small of his back are faint pink lines from my nails. I gently move his arm onto the bed and crawl over for a better look. If they're still visible now then last night…
I brush my lips to the lowest line and then work up to his waist. He sighs heavily and begins to stir. I slide my leg over his back and straddle him, continuing my path. When I reach the shallow dip between his shoulder blades I can see he's smiling.
"Good morning." I murmur, continuing to treat the marks.
"It certainly is." He replies lazily, eyes still closed.
My hands glide over his back and when I find tense spots my thumbs knead them out. He groans loudly when I find a particularly tight one in his lower trapezius.
"I'd scold you for not stretching if I wasn't usually with you."
His lip twitch.
I work the knot until my thumb is aching and blood has rushed to the area. I sprawl out across his back, chin tucked to the crook of his shoulder as I curl my arms under him. He gropes for my hand and kisses my knuckles.
Now that I'm out from under the covers I can feel the distinct chill in the air. I wonder if it's still snowing.
Dimitri lifts his head to peer at my forearm which I realise has pimpled.
"You're cold?"
I smirk. "My front half isn't."
My chest and stomach are quite toasty.
He hums and then pushes up, yanking my arm so I'm pulled right off him and onto my back.
"You could at least let me warm up before you start throwing me around." I protest.
He leans over me, lifting the covers and drawing me in by my hip. Parts of me that weren't pressed against him now feel icy by comparison. I press my leg into between his.
"I am warming you up." He says, kissing my jaw.
Damn it. He had a point.
"So, there will be throwing?"
His lips graze my ear. "Would you like that?"
My entire body floods with heat, driving out any lingering chill. "Sounds vigorous."
He chuckles and I wind my arms around him. He draws back so I'm looking into his handsome face, burnt gold in the earth.
"Hi."
He grins. "Hello."
I pull him down to me and he kisses me slowly, deeply, showing me how I want to wake up from now on. His hand slides up from my hip, over my waist, and curls under my head. I pull him closer until his chest is flush with mine and his weight presses into me in the most comforting way.
Our kisses taper off and he smooths my hair back.
"Do you feel okay?"
He asks lightly but his gaze is intent. My instinct is to say yes but instead I give myself a second to shift my hips and assess. Not as sore as last night, barely an ache, and I'm reminded of how fast my wrist had healed after I drove my fist into that Moroi's face.
"Okay, a little sore." I admit.
I watch him watching me, his fingers still smoothing back my hair, looking at me in that way where I'm all that matters and I smile up at him.
"I love you."
His expression softens, gold honeying. "As I love you."
My heart strains, ready to burst.
Will that ever go away? Does this feeling regulate, become as second nature as breathing?
Our lips meet again but this time it's different, not warm lazy morning kisses but heated and wanting. My hand coast down his sides until I pull at his hips, moving my leg out from between his.
"Rose." He cautions, resisting my pull.
"I want to." I tug at him again but he doesn't yield. I can feel him wanting me, stiffening on my hip and it undermines the conflict in his face. It emboldens me and I kiss his jaw, right up to his ear. "I want you."
His breathing shallows and my hand trials down his torso. "Please."
"Roza." He says, trying to cling to that really annoying sense of responsibility.
I reach the hard length of him and a thrill shoots through me ending in a pulse between my legs as I grasp him. He shudders and drops his face into my shoulder.
I want him now I know what to expect. I want to feel him push inside me without my body's resistance to something foreign. I want it to be everything it had been after the strangeness of it had passed.
My grasp moves slowly up and down. Dimitri's breath catches and that surge of power radiates through me.
"Please." I urge again.
Suddenly the hand working him is pinned by my head.
"You don't have to beg. You never have to beg." He says thickly into my ear and desperate want pools low in my belly.
"I was persuading." I correct on an exhale.
His fingers sink in between mine and with my free hand, I follow a similar path down my torso to the apex of my thighs. I sigh as my fingers brush over the most sensitive part of my body and Dimitri's chin jerks down.
Moments pass in which we breathe shallowly and the atmosphere changes, a heat wave passing through the frigid air. My fingers squeeze his as my hips shift in response to my touch and I let out a breathy moan.
"Consider me persuaded." He murmurs, turning his attention back to my face. Those brown depths ablaze.
He lowers his mouth to mine and the sweep of his tongue is just a taste of what I'm craving. I arch up into him, my fingers working in tandem with what his kisses are doing. Suddenly he breaks away and shifts from over me to his side, pulling at my waist to turn my back to his chest. He draws our clasped hands up and curls my arm around his neck. His fingertips glide down my arm, over the side of my ribs until he's cupping my breast. I latch onto his hair as he kisses my jaw.
"Put your leg over my mine." He instructs and tingles of anticipation run up my spine.
I do as he says and feel the hard length of his erection against my inner thigh. He kicks down the covers that have caught around our hips and I become aware that he has full view of my body, what I'm doing, and if I hadn't realised then his growl of delight would have informed me.
A sudden shyness rushes through me and my fingers falter. His hand coasts down the thigh hitched over him, curling under my knee and pulling it back further.
"I still hold you to your promise." His low voice rough and putting confidence into my touch.
I nod and tilt my chin back to him. He gives me what I seek, kissing me so deeply my blood spark. When his mouth leaves mine he still kisses me, my jaw, my cheek as his hand runs heavily up and down my thigh. I become aware he's watching what I'm doing and I shift, turning at the waist, so I can have a better view of his face.
"Are you just going to watch?"
His gaze smoulders, gold nearly eclipsed. "You don't realise how much of an honour that is."
"Dimitri, I'm ready."
He cusses and then his hand moves down between us. My lungs pause as I feel him position himself and then things…spin. There's only a pinch of discomfort as he eases in, my body reminding me this is still new. He's careful, still slow, and copies the same method he'd used last night with his fingers – in a little and drawing out. Adjusting to him isn't tinted with pain this time but underlined with a delicious sense of anticipation, the fullness more enjoyable.
I don't know if it's this position or the absence of the sting but he somehow feels bigger and I'm panting and grasping the arm holding my thigh before he's even inside me fully. The storm could have wiped out the world and it wouldn't matter, right now all that matters is us inside this room, all that matters is us and how this feels.
When his hips are pressed as close to me as possible he exhales heavily, muttering in Russian. I need something to happen, I need him to do something before it gets any harder to breathe. My fingers bite into the back of his neck as the seconds pass, then suddenly the tension gives way to sensation. I rotate my hips the slightest fraction, testing, and he shudders as a sigh drops from my lips, a faint tremor of pleasure passing through my lower belly.
He whispers a word in Russian, a word heavy with quiet amazement and I'm glad it's one of the few I recognise.
'God.'
I swallow. "I know."
My hand leaves his neck to cover the one holding my thigh, nails digging in impatiently. His grasp tightens in response and he props himself up higher so he's looking down at me. Those magnetic eyes hold mine as he retreats slowly and then pushes back in, pulling a small satisfied moan from me.
"Good?" He asks.
"Yes." I whisper.
He grins and it's wicked, it in itself sending a flurry of excitement through me that's only eclipsed when his hips roll again in the same motion. His hips move at a measured pace, spurring on the sensations starting to unfurl, the fullness blending into something else.
He released my thigh, travelling higher until his fingers circle over my breast, teasing, pinching lightly and when I bite at his lip irritated he finally envelopes it in his palm. A mewling noise drags from my throat, aches being taunted and then soothed.
My body craves more, the want climbing and demanding, and this greed is indescribable, unexplainable. It's beyond reason or logic.
It's not enough. How is it not enough?
"Dimitri." I breathe and his hand leaves my breast to sweep up to my jaw.
"Moya lyubov'?" The question leaving on an exhale.
And I don't know how I know but I do – this isn't enough for him either. I know he wants to be careful with me and he's right I suppose, this is the second time I've done this, but I know he wants more too.
We are not delicate people.
"More." I say against his lips.
"More?" He repeats, a dark silken pull to the question.
I nod, his fingers still cradling my face and without breaking eye contact he shifts, putting more weight on his knee so he can pick up his pace.
I was wrong to think I wouldn't be overwhelmed, I am, but in my body and not in mind. I thought I'd felt full before, I thought I'd adjusted to just how deep I felt him but speed changes everything.
A deep sound vibrates from his chest and draws me back to the surface. Pulsing, rolling pleasure moves through me at every thrust and I want to tell him how good it feels but I can't form words. He sees it in my face though, I can tell by that possessive glint in his darkened eyes and the quick smirk that tugs on his lips before it's stolen away by a groan. I claim his mouth, chasing that noise with my tongue.
Streaks of light and bliss have contorted my nerves and my blood is climbing to an inferno.
I break away to gasp, possibly his name and he possessively he holds my jaw to watch as the moreness of it pass over my face.
"You're so beautiful." He says under his breath.
His hand drops to fold around my chest, holding me in place as he moves faster. I bury my face into his neck, scraping my teeth and lips across his skin.
It can only ever be him like this. I fit him in more ways than one, I know him as much as I know myself.
"I love you." I manage to say around the want cresting, pushing my body to its limit.
"Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu." He promises, the solid band of his arm tightening but it's not enough to hold me together.
The tension doesn't just shatter, it rips through me, sending shards of ecstasy through my veins. The light and bliss crest into something blinding and my mind is a blank space, my cry a far-off noise, as my body spasms around and against him.
I hear him cuss, I hear my name, I feel his hips moving impossibly faster as he yanks my knee up and I regain enough sense to open my eyes to watch him come undone as pleasure ripples through me. His large body almost covers mine as he captures my mouth, his shout swallowed between our mess of a kiss as he shudders and the motions of his hips fracture before slowing to a stop.
He stays braced above me and I give him a moment to come back to himself before lightly brushing my lips over his.
"I love you." I whisper again.
He swallows. "As I love you."
He kisses me tenderly before slowly starting to withdraw. I wince and immediately he stills, brows drawing together.
"I'm okay." I say, eyes fluttering closed as he moves out of me and lowers my leg.
I relax onto my back I can feel the mess of us between my thighs and it's strange, I think, that it doesn't bother me.
"Are you sure?" He asks.
I open my eyes to look at him, knowing he won't believe me otherwise. "Yes. I promise."
And I am. I feel content, happy, full of bliss. His hand cups my face, thumb stroking my cheek, and a grin splits my mouth.
He raises an eyebrow. "What?"
"How does anyone get anything done?"
Laughter bursts from him and he continues laughing long after he leans in to kiss me.
He'd cleaned me up again and this time I wasn't too dazed to realise how sort of sweet it is. The room's chill was hard to ignore without his body heat and I pulled the covers around me shivering. He stood by the bed checking his phone, seemingly unaffected, and then strode over to the window to pull back the blind.
"Is it still snowing?" My voice is muffled by the covers.
"Yes. It's easing but the roads are blocked. Spiridon is losing his mind."
I process this and sit up on my elbows. "So...we're going to be alone a little longer?"
His teeth flash over his shoulder. "Yes."
I keep my eyes on his face as he prowls back over to the bed. There's nothing modest about him, no shame in his nakedness and I feel my face heat.
"How are you not cold?"
He shrugs and then assesses how I've gathered the duvet around me. My face is the only warm thing.
"I'll turn on the shower for you and go turn on the heating. It shouldn't be long off but I think we'll need it to run constantly tonight."
"There is no 'we', not with your weird hot Russian blood that doesn't feel the cold."
"Weird Russian blood?" He repeats amused.
I shrug. "Or maybe it's just a weird you thing. I don't know."
He chuckles and moves into the bathroom. I hear the spray of water a moment later.
A hot shower does sound like an amazing idea. He comes back and hunts around for his underwear, pulling them on with an elastic snap. So not so immodest he won't walk around the house naked.
I forgo the covers to lean up on my knees to meet him at the beds' edge. The chill sticks to my back, my sides, as the heat of him caresses my chest as he kisses me. The sensation of the three makes me shiver.
"Shower." He instructs. "You can't get ill again."
He holds my hand as I climb out of bed, that shyness creeps back but then is blown away by how he's looking at me.
"Will you join me?"
He grins. "Yes. I'll be in soon."
I practically run to my bathroom, steam curling around the door, as the chill nips my ass. The hazy warmth envelopes me and I shudder as I pull open the glass door. I let the water chase away the cold, let it lull me into a content state where I replay the last day and a half of my life.
My life – my life that's now full of so much good and where so much seems possible now. I grip my arms as I realise the life in Arizona had been merely about existing and trying to stay that way but knowing, knowing really, that existing could cease any day. That it would.
I don't know how long I stand there letting my thoughts fall over themselves, fingers biting in my skin, but I don't hear him come in.
"Roza?" He asks quietly, hands circling my waist.
I unlock my fingers and I lean back against him. The solid and steady presence grounding my mind. His arms wind around me and I fold mine over his.
He waits but there's nothing to explain that I haven't explained already – that some days I thought it would be easier to be dead, to be gone until he collided with me that night in the woods. That I had to remind myself often to be quiet, to hold myself in because if I didn't then it meant screaming internally at myself as dust filled my nose and the repercussions came raining down.
I don't want to cloud our time together with the past, holding how bleak and dark it was up against how good and bright things are right now. I just want to be here with him.
So instead I tilt my head back and tell him quietly, "Adapting."
His hold tightens and my eyes close as he leans down to kiss my face. I turn in his embrace and rest my cheek to his chest, letting him fold me in as the cross gleams in my eye line. My arms slip around his waist and the darker thoughts bleed away, disappearing down the drain with the water. He murmurs to me in Russian, his voice a soothing lull, the unknown words laced in warmth and slipping into places the water couldn't chase away the chill.
I relax into him and he pulls my hair over my shoulder, reaching for the bottles from the hanging shelf. Winter-berries lathers over my skin and he finds muscles to soothe along my spine. I sigh, filing this memory away with those words he'd said last night.
I look up at him as his hands rub the foam over my shoulders. There's a hint of worry in his face but he doesn't push and I love that – I love that he knows it's not worth trying to draw out, knows my boundaries, knows me. He works down the length of my arms, pausing to lift my right hand to his lips, kissing over the gold and my heart thrums.
He applies more of the purple foam to my chest and I anticipate the wanting to come back in force but it doesn't. It stays on the outskirts as his touch glides between my breasts and over my stomach, letting love and care be his tools as he works. We're naked and soaking wet but this isn't about sex at all. It's staggering that there are so any layers to this and at the same time it's comforting. There's solace in knowing that I have so much more to discover with him, all the right things about intimacy.
The things I'd thought I'd known about sex are not about sex at all. The things I'd known were violence – just plain violence.
Dimitri's touch coasts over my waist and hips until he has to kneel to continue. My breathing shallows with emotion as I watch him pool more foam into his hands to smooth it gently over my thighs, down my calves, and taking such time and care that I feel special, cherished...loved.
His fingers glide in purposeful strokes over my calves, releasing the tension, and I place my hand on the wall to stop from swaying when he lifts them.
Intimacy is more than cravings and kissing, more than spoken words, and my favourite place in his shoulder.
He sets my foot down and kisses my stomach softly. I'd asked him to show me how he loves me and this is another way. He stands, hands travelling up to rest in the small of my back as his eyes find mine. There's still a touch of concern but there's so much more shining through.
He smiles softly, his dark hair swooped to one side and almost black. The smell of berries swirls around us and then hits my stomach making it growl. I look away embarrassed – stupid body ruining the moment.
"So now that your warm and clean I should probably feed you." He says, voice still low and velvety.
I press my lips to his wet skin. "I want to make pancakes."
He hums. "That sounds like a good idea."
He reaches past me to shut off the water and I grab his wrist. "We're not done."
"Oh?"
I reach for the bottle and spray the foam under his collarbones. I show him how much he means to me, how much I appreciate what this body's done – not just for me but for him too. It's protected us both, it's healed him when he's hurt, it's provided heat when it's scarce, sanctuary when the world erupts. I travel over every dip and curve showing appreciation to its discipline and its grace. Showing love to the place that homes his heart and his soul.
I show it everything he showed mine.
When I'm done and we both smell like berries he kisses me, long and slow. We wash our hair, vanilla, and mint, and stay there a long time...until my stomach starts to cramp and protest.
"Pancakes." He says, kissing my forehead.
I dress in fleece-lined leggings and a jumper with a high neck. I'm pulling on thick wool socks when Dimitri steps out from his room fully clothed in black. I grin at him from the bed and then skip out to the landing to take his waiting hand.
The house has considerably heated up and I dread to think how cold it had been. I flick on the Christmas lights as he gets started in the kitchen and come to a halt as I spy the glass wall. I scurry over and press my fingertip against it, surprised to find the temperature mild and not freezing, considering the snow is level with my knee.
I run into the kitchen, past Dimitri, and to the back door. My breath fogs against the glass as I look out at the mounds and small hills of snow, if I opened the door it would spill inside. White still falls in a steady, unrelenting slant but it's nowhere near as fierce as it had been yesterday.
Eggs cracks behind me and I turn to him. "Will the roads be blocked until it stops?"
"Most likely. Humans will be trying to clear the main ones as soon as possible but right now it remains too dangerous."
"So...we'll be alone again today?" I ask, picking up the thread of my earlier questions before I got distracted by his nakedness and the cold.
He adds flour into the bowl and grins at me. "Most likely. Are you worried you'll get tired of my company?"
I hum thoughtfully, coming around the island to stand beside him. "I'm sure we'll find ways to keep each other entertained."
"I'm sure we will." He replies, grin widening.
A damp lock of hairs fallen over his face. I push up on my toes to brush it back and kiss his cheek. Another day alone to be ourselves and I wasn't going to waste a minute of it. I slip in between his arms and take the whisk from him.
"I said I was making pancakes."
He chuckles and then his lips are by my ear. "Impatient little creature."
I smirk. "And bossy, and don't call me little just because you're huge."
His breath tickles my ear. "In what sense are you referring to?"
A beat passes as I process and then heat scorches up my neck.
I smack his arm with the whisk. "Dimitri!"
He laughs and moves away to the fridge as I grumble, half in shock he'd said that. I glance at him as he digs through the shelves, the proud smirk etched on his face. It hits me again how little people know him – how much Natalie would laugh hearing something like that, Lissa would gape but then stifle a giggle. He turns back, catches me staring, and raises an eyebrow. I flush again and go back to whisking.
"Something on your mind?" He asks casually.
Him, with his casual nakedness and dropping dirty jokes.
"Nope." I feign, just as easily. "Pass the blueberries, please."
We make breakfast as his music drifts around the kitchen, finding small ways to always be touching each other, it's so easy, so natural – like breathing. I find myself staring at him humming under his breath, throwing a dish towel over his shoulder, and realise this is something I want to repeat forever. Something as simple as making breakfast because there are special moments in the simplest things. Like arguing if my ratio of maple syrup to pancakes ruins the flavour of the other ingredients (it doesn't) or when he spins me under his arm as he passes by or simply, the way he looks at me as I argue vehemently that bran is made from cardboard.
His fingers loosely hold mine, pushing the ring around from the underside, humouring my argument with a small smile. I've lost track of what I'm saying but I refuse to give up.
"So there." I say, finishing strong.
"So there." He repeats, not hiding his amusement and I stick my tongue out at him. "You could, only this once whilst no one is around, admit you're wrong."
"But I'm not wrong." I sniff.
He laughs and I press my lips into a line to stop from doing the same.
"It even looks like mulch when it's been in milk for a minute."
"So did your pancakes after you drowned them."
"No, they didn't. Your just biased because you eat everything dry."
"Not everything." He murmurs, looking away and trying to hide a smirk behind his coffee.
My eyes narrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." He says, genuine regret in his sheepish expression.
"Are you making another dirty joke?"
He is, I just don't understand what it is.
"I did and I apologise." He says, schooling his features.
"Don't apologise, explain." He lowers his mug, shifting in his seat and keeping his eyes down and it's impossible but I actually think he's getting flustered. "Dimitri."
"I'll wash up." He grabs the plates and quickly moves to the sink, leaving me baffled and amused.
The snow doesn't ease up and Spiridon checks in with Dimitri twice more, the latest being to confirm they will not be attempting the roads tonight which I thought seemed obvious but I suppose if Victor was adamant on getting back they would. I don't attempt to hide my smile as confirms we're both fine and safe here, tilting my face up to him from where I lie against his chest, book in my hands.
Spiridon says something and even though his words are too small for me to make out the tone is clear. Dimitri grins back at me, running a lock of my hair through his fingers.
"It makes you more sympathetic to what Galina had to put up with, no?" Spiridon grumbles something back and Dimitri laughs quietly. "We were much worse. Happy hunting."
He places his phone on the table and picks up his book, the one I got him. I turn back to mine, turning the page.
"What's wrong with him?"
I can sense the smile on his lips. "Some of the students are sneaking out to hold snowball fights and build snowmen. It's proving difficult to round them up. Natalie and Lissa are unaccounted for."
I giggle. "Good for them."
He hums, arm settling back around me and we sink back into reading. A while later when I've finished another chapter I peel myself a way to get us both drinks. I make him coffee and grab a soda, returning to him on the sofa where his eyes don't leave the page as he opens his arm out to me. I put the drinks down and It's all so easy, so natural as I slot back into my place.
I've changed the sequence of the fairy lights so the golden glow dims and reignites softly. I drink in this moment, struck by just how right it is – the weight of his arm around my waist, the slow and steady fall of his chest at my back, the faintest smell of citrus under berries, and his music playing softly through the speakers.
After a few more minutes he closes his book and sets it aside.
"Is it as good as the movie?"
"Better." He says, kissing my head and I grin. "She's a lot wittier in the book."
"Can I read it after?"
His hold flexes. "Of course."
I tilt my back and his lips brush over mine. He looks at me from under his lashes as and my fingers graze over his arm and my heart is made that golden glow around us.
"What was the joke?" I ask.
His brows furrow and then it hits him, he laughs and shakes his head. He reaches for his coffee and I persist in my questioning.
"Why won't you tell me? Are you embarrassed?"
He grins coyly around the rim and my curiosity rockets. I wriggle around onto my knees between his thighs.
"Tell me."
He chuckles. "I'll tell you later."
"Why not now?"
"Why are you so impatient?"
"Dimitri."
He leans forward, nose skimming mine, and my breath pauses. "I think, it would be more effective to show rather than tell."
I exhale, heated tingles creeping up my spine. "Okay."
He kisses the corner of my mouth. "Later."
I scowl and he pulls away laughing.
Russian jerk.
I reach for my soda as the curiosity simmers down into mild annoyance. He tries coaxing me out of my mood but stubbornly I cling to it out of principle. I suddenly find myself on my back with him braced over me but I refuse to look at him and jerk my chin away.
"Are you going to ignore me all night?" He murmurs against my cheek.
No.
"You're starting to hurt my feelings."
"Make a joke about it." I huff.
"I think…" He begins, grazing my earlobe with his teeth. "I'll have some chocolate instead."
Then he's gone. Sitting up and reaching for the box abandoned on the other seat.
"Ah, there's only one truffle left."
I sit up and watch him lift out my favourite one, regarding it with interest. He glances at me before putting the end of it to his lips. I scramble over and take his wrist. He leans away from me with me a raised eyebrow, looking insanely pleased with himself.
"Reconsidered your protest?"
I give him what I hope is a sweet smile, leaning forward, his eyes drop down….and then I steal the chocolate right out of his fingers and put it in my mouth.
"Nope." I say proudly and then squeal as he lunges for me.
I scurry over the back of the sofa and run for the tree trying to put all the furniture between us. I skid on the floor and then suddenly he's in front of me, a hand clamps around my inner thigh and the sensation of being weightless. I land on the other sofa with an 'ompf' and Dimitri braced over me.
I throw my weight into my hips, gripping his arm and hooking my leg into his to throw him off – which means we both end up rolling off the couch onto the floor, banging into the table on the way.
"Did I hurt you?" I ask lifting myself onto my hands and knees, now braced over him.
Surprise shines on his face. "You didn't hesitate."
I frown. "I just sort of...I don't know, I remembered and I reacted. Was that bang your head or your elbow?"
"My elbow. Rose, that was fast." I reassess how he's looking at me, his tone, and see the pride behind it. I lean back on his hips and he sits up. "Did you expect me to pin you?"
"No, I just...remembered."
His face splits into a huge smile and I have to look away, slightly embarrassed. It's not that big a deal...and yet.
"Will you show me more moves like that?"
"Absolutely."
He pulls us up and starts moving the furniture. "I didn't mean now."
"Why not?" He counters.
Well, if I had to picture having a secret day tucked away from the world it didn't involve him showing me ways to flip people around. However, as he pushes the second sofa, creating a larger space, I get excited.
"There might be a mat in the basement." He says, looking toward the door.
"It'll be freezing down there."
"Mhm which means it could be rigid and do more harm than good."
"Well I meant you'd let the heat out or, crazy thought, you might feel a bit of a chill."
"Anything above minus twenty is mild." He grins and then starts pulling off the sofa cushions and positioning them.
An hour and a half later I'm almost too hot in my clothes and breathing heavily. An immense sense of accomplishment is weaving through me even though I've only thrown him off twice. I'd asked him not to make it easy, I'd made him promise not to humour me after he'd run through the movement and he'd agreed. I mean, starting with a 6'7 opponent can't be the easiest way to do things so I'm giving myself points for that.
I pull off my jumper so I'm only in my black tank top but the air hitting my skin feels so good.
"Okay, let me try again but don't tell me when you're grabbing me. What?"
I twist at the waist to look at him, confused by the sudden change in his expression. His eyes flit to my face and he composes himself, features smoothing out. He nods and I face forward again, trying not to let the distraction take root and flourish because even though he'd hidden it quickly I know what that look was.
Without warning, like I'd asked for, he strikes and my arms are pinned behind me, his hold secure and bowing me back. I try and step back between feet but I've missed my window – too busy being distracted with what I was trying not to be distracted by.
"Again." I huff and his hold disappears.
I take two deep breaths, try to listen for any indication of him approaching but there's only silence.
Dimitri's hands lock around my upper arms and yank me back against his chest. His hold begins to fold his arms under mine to pin them and I stomp my foot back in-between his. I twist and drop my weight, one arm slipping out of his grip. I bend my knees and push up into him with all the power I have, driving into the arm still linked with mine and throwing him off balance. Here's where I'm supposed to try and trip him so he goes sprawling and I can get away but I trip myself instead.
The bright side is I end up half pulling him down too, his balance already thrown and the cushions sliding on the floor.
"That was good." He says, sitting back on his knees.
I prop myself up onto my elbows. "It would have been better if I wasn't distracted. Can we try again?"
His eyes lift back to my face, perfectly neutral.
"Stop that!"
"Stop what?"
"Looking at me like that."
His face is a blank canvas and I sit up. "We're training, Belikov, non-negotiable. Take it seriously."
His lips twitch. "I am. You're the one that admitted you're distracted."
"Because of how you looked at me!"
"How did I look at you?"
"Like...like you have cravings."
His dark eyes stay trained on my face that's steadily warming. "Like, I couldn't help but notice how thin that material is and it's the only thing covering you?"
"Yes."
"And that's distracting for you?" He murmurs.
"Yes."
"I apologise." He says, sounding sincere but his gaze burns. He helps me up but leans in abruptly so I freeze. "It's distracting for me too."
I swallow. "Sounds like a you problem. Guardian control please, I'm trying to learn."
He laughs and I want to chase the sound, crash my lips to his, and pull him down into this very soft nest we've made.
"Yes, moya lyubov. Forgive me."
I can't help it. I take his face and kiss him quickly. "I love you."
"And I love you." He whispers back, face softening.
I smile. "Good. Now attack me."
He chuckles, kisses me lightly and we get back into position. I manage to throw him two more times and the second I'm able to dart away before he springs back up. We arrange the living room back to normal and I pull my jumper back on as the chill creeps back, not missing how he smirks at me. Memories intrude to the front of my mind, memories that pull at every sense, replaying sounds and sensations. I'm suddenly too warm again and I get another soda.
On a trip to the bathroom I retrieve my phone and find messages from the girls. 67 of them including pictures and webs links, the pictures mostly being of hairstyles and dresses. The topic seems to be this other dance at the lodge we'll be staying at for Christmas. The place Adrian's family owns… it has to be huge if everyone from their school seems to be going as well as their families. I think it's beyond my grasp to understand how wealthy Adrian must be.
"Are you hungry?" Dimitri asks as I come down the stairs.
"Mhm, yeah but I feel snacky. Like, I don't want something big."
He rests his hands atop the newel and I become level with him on the third step from the bottom.
"We could make up a picnic and watch a movie?"
"That sounds great."
He holds out his hand for me but I use it to tug him over slightly so we're lined up. Then I jump, easily locking my legs around his waist and winding my arms around his neck.
"Knees okay?"
He chuckles and swings us toward the kitchen. "Yes, thank you for asking."
He drops me onto the counter and then, many minutes later, pulls away to start pulling out things from the fridge. That golden glow is now in my head.
My phone vibrates again, then again and again. I pull it out to find Natalie telling me she can see I've seen their messages and wants my thoughts. I type out that I'll reply properly later because there's a lot of to get through and ask if they're still outside.
N:Ahh, the old grape fine of Spiridon gossiping to Dimitri. We weren't outside. Hanging out above the church.
L: *vine.
N: Shut uppp. Rose look at the dresses because we need to get it sorted ASAP.
L: Unless you don't want to go, we can do something else instead? But it's really nice to get so dressed up and the dancing is beautiful.
N: Living my debutante dreamzzz. Rose, pls .
L: There will be pink champagne.
N: Lots of it
R: I'll go. Just for the dress and the drinks.
N:I have taught you well.
L:And the dancing! Let's break gender norms, stereotypes and cause a scandal by dancing together. I'll lead.
N:And Christian will just hold your purse?
L:He says he'd rather hold everyone's coat than dance so…
N:Wow. How romantic of him. Remind me to smack him later.
R: Gotta go, I'll respond later about the dresses. Stay inside and be safe. Tell Spiridon your okay.
N:I'll consider it.
L:We will xxx
I turn my phone off and put it aside, tucking my legs up and swiveling around to him.
"Sorry, that was rude."
He's made sandwiches and is now cutting up apple slices to go with the peanut butter on the side. Chocolate chips have been added to one of them and my heart tugs.
"I don't mind. How are they?"
"Hiding in the church or something. They're not outside so I told them to tell Spiridon. They want me to go to a dance at the Lodge so they've been sending me dresses to choose from."
"You should go, it really is something."
"What's it like?"
"Extravagant, for lack of a better word. There's dinner, dancing, fortune-telling, last year they had fire artists and just before dawn fireworks."
"I'd love to see fireworks." I breathe, imagining Christmas lights exploding in the sky. I blink away the images and find him looking at me with a small smile. "Will you be there? Working?"
"Yes, most likely."
I grin. I could be in another devastating dress and he'd see, then later...later we could sneak away.
"The dancing...it's going to be proper dancing right?" I try to recall things I'd seen in movies, hand on shoulders and waists, precision to the movements.
"Yes, usually variations of a waltz and ballroom dances after dinner. It doesn't last for more than an hour or two."
"Lissa said she'd dance with me, cause a scandal." I grin as he pours popcorn into a bowl. "I don't know if she's going to have time to teach me."
He pops a golden piece into his mouth. "I can show you."
I raise my eyebrows. "You can?"
"The basic parts I remember, yes."
I pick up the popcorn and a share bag of chocolate candy as he lifts the plates. "Is that part of Guardian training? Knowing how to waltz? Encase there's a dancing crisis and Spiridon can spin Victor away?"
He snorts and even that's an attractive noise.
We settle on the sofa and he pulls the table closer. He hands me the remote which is basically control over picking the movie.
"So? How do you know how to dance?"
"I attended a one years ago as a favour."
"And you remember from that one time?" I ask, picking up half of a sandwich.
"I saw it as another physical discipline to learn, just like combative moves. Once it's broken down and you start working on learning the structure it gets committed to muscle memory. And then I've witnessed it multiple times since."
"Your muscle has a long memory. How long ago was this?"
"My last year at school."
My chewing slows and then I swallow. "With Sofia?"
I feel his gaze on my face and I make myself meet it, even though there's an intrusive twisting in my gut. He only looks mildly surprised.
"Ben?"
I shrug. "We were talking about how you and Spiridon were at school. He mentioned it got worse between you both when you…" What was the wording Ben used? "Got involved with her."
Beautiful and Royal.
He looks away, brows furrowing. "It didn't get worse because of her but she didn't help...I knowingly made it worse."
"Ben said Spiridon liked her and you both knew it. He also said he didn't know you well back then so he could be wrong."
A small smile plays on his lips and he snatches up some popcorn. "Ben is a gossip."
About twenty questions are bubbling on the tip of my tongue so I make myself take another bite, hoping I can swallow some of them with my food. It doesn't work. I feel him watching me as if he can sense it, and the more the seconds tick by the more screwed up my questions get, the words becoming thick and sludgy.
"Roza." He says softly. "You can ask me."
I set down my food and tuck my legs up to face him. His expression is calm, no hint of apprehension, open, clear, honest and it calms me a little.
"Was Sofia your first girlfriend?"
He turns to face me too, pulling his knee up and resting his cheek on his knuckles. "No. You're my first girlfriend."
I can't hide my disbelief. "But… you were together for months. I mean, that's what Ben implied."
"Yes but it was very casual and it benefited us both for different reasons."
The awkwardness creeps back in, words sticking to my throat but I pry them off. "So it was just about sex?"
"It was about not being serious and having someone to spend time with where there was no pressure or expectations. It was about getting away from things for a little while."
Well, I suppose it's hard to be worried about anything when you're naked and pressed together. There's not much room for anything else bar each other. It's stupid and unfair but I hate that he felt that with someone else. Maybe more than just her – Natalie had said there was only one person on his list but it's not like Dimitri wrote it….
"How many people have you been with?" I ask, keeping my eyes trained on his face.
There's no disruption to his features. "Five."
God. Five. Five faceless women that had been with him like that, that he'd kissed and touched made shatter and that also made him shatter too. I thought it would make me angry. It just makes me sad and I know it's not fair, I know it's stupid but I can't help it.
His fingers curl under my chin and he leans in so there's no escaping his gaze. "Five including you and Sofia, which isn't right to say because what we have, what you mean to me, is so vastly different. It's never been this before, Rose. I've never been desperate to hold someone else's hand or hear their laugh. I've never been left senseless because of a kiss. This is so far beyond anything else I've ever experienced with another person. You are the only woman I have ever loved, ever worshipped." His scarred palm cups my face as he tilts his head, studying me.
"I know you've had more experiences, more of...living than I have and I'm not annoyed. I just...it makes me sad."
He frowns. "What makes you sad?"
"It's stupid."
"Rose."
I inhale. "Because...I know it's different because of how we feel but I don't like thinking of you with other people like that. Them knowing you like that."
His thumb brushes under my lip. "They didn't know me. It wasn't the same. It was, for better means of explanation, all self-interested. It was an outlet...a release."
I try to separate my feelings from it.
I could only share that with him because I love him, because I trust him and because knowing sex as something positive is still new to me. Something I'm still adjusting to the thought of even though my body yearns for the contact, the sensation, the connection to him burning bright and reassuring me I'm safe. If I hadn't known my old normal, if I hadn't seen the things I'd seen maybe it would be different – I'd be able to think of it more..lightly. More trivially. It was just an activity that people could do together and enjoy.
But also, if it was a way for him to forget, to check out from all the anger and things he suffered with then, well, I understand that.
"It was a way to escape?" I ask quietly.
"Yes."
When we're together it doesn't feel like escaping, it feels like being alive. It feels like freedom.
"And with me?"
He smiles softly. "I'm home."
Heavier than the ocean. Vaster than the sky. And somehow I hold it in my chest and it burns like starlight.
I close the distance and claim his lips, crawling into his lap. I kiss him with more ferocity than I ever have, this maddening sense of needing a physical reminder that only I get this, this is for me, he's for me. His tongue tangles with mine and I rock against him, causing us both to moan. His hand presses into the small of my back, the other between my shoulder blades, and with my fingers, in his hair, I pull his head back.
His chest rises and falls as his gaze burns.
I lean forward and he has to crane back in my hold. There's a possessiveness coursing through me, something powerful and I let it lead. "It's not like this with other people?"
His hand fists in my jumper. "No."
"Because you're for me?"
"Yes."
My grip on his hair tightens. "I'm everything."
"Yes." He exhales.
I smile, that possessive thing purring and stretching out like a satisfied cat. I lean in and run the tip of my tongue over where his pulse jumps. He doesn't move, doesn't protest, surrendering to my grasp and it kindles the flame that for the longest time I had to suffocate.
It doesn't matter who was before or what he did with them because I have more of him than they did, I know him in ways they didn't. It doesn't matter because I'm the first person he's been in love with and more firsts in lots of ways, ways that he's been mine too...and I want, more than anything, to be his last of those firsts too.
My lips travel up to his ear. "I'm the first person that's been this for you? That you've said any of these things too."
I recline to his brow furrow. "Yes, Rose. It's – there's nothing comparable."
"I don't want you to ever have anything to compare it to. I want to be the first and I want to be the last."
The biggest and most selfish want of my life, it inspires a little fear but the things that have scared me have mostly paid off and these past weeks with him have shown me I can be gifted things beyond my wants. That so much is possible for me, some will be given but others I have to fight for.
Dimitri's gaze hardens, the softness leaving his features and becoming severe. I don't lessen my grip but I can't help the apprehension creeping into my face.
"There will be no one else." He says in a low solemn voice that makes me swallow, fingers sliding out of their hold. He takes the cross between his fingers. "I have every intention of always returning to you. You are my home, my north point, my everything. I will always come back to you." He lifts the hand that had been holding him prisoner and his thumb sweeps over the gold. "Roza, I don't say things I don't mean."
"I know." I say, the nerves dispelling into emotion. "That's one of the things I love about you."
He moves quickly, darting forward, and a note of surprise leaves my throat his lips catch mine. I'm not just kissed but devoured. His hands slip under my jumper and run roughly over the thin material at my back. I dare to break away to pull it off and he immediately descends on the exposed skin.
"Say it again." He demands against my throat, slipping the thin straps off my shoulders as I cling to him.
"I love you." I say and then my breath catches as he pulls the material down.
He hums roughly and pulls me tighter against him, tongue and touch exploring. My eyes close, cravings waking and causing my breath to shallow. His hands roam over my waist, to the small of my back, before gripping my ass. A quivering moan tumbles off my lips.
He flips us so I'm laid out under him and his knee is between my legs. His lips come back, scorching, soul-touching kisses and I realise he's let go a little. Not as conscience or worried about me being overwhelmed and instead of letting what he feels lead.
What would it be like if he truly let go?
I don't think I'm prepared for that yet but it's very...intriguing.
I pull at his sweater and he leans up to pull it swiftly over his head and throw it away, silver flicks out before hitting his chest.
I drink him in, the muscled planes, the sharp lines of his hips, and the broad span of his shoulders. My eyes travel slowly up, over the strong column of his neck, his lips to his eyes...the night sky with honeyed stars.
I take the silver between my fingers and tug him down until he's pressed against me.
"I've never told you before." I say, the word tumbling out in my awe. "But you're beautiful."
"Beautiful?" He repeats in a surprised breath.
"Yes."
His finger brushes over my lips. "I was just thinking the same thing about you."
I nip at him and his eyes spark. He leans down to my ear and expertly he shift us, turning me as he slides on the floor to kneel. My stomach flutters.
"Have you figured out my joke yet?" His voice warm with amusement.
"What?" I hear myself say, focus pinpointed on his fingers curling into my waistband.
His nose bumps mine. "Think."
I try but he's pulling down my leggings at an unrushed pace, smirking to himself. We're also in the living room. We probably shouldn't do anything in the living room. Spiridon eats his cereal here, Ben shouts at sports games and Natalie sprawls out to watch her reality shows.
He balls up the material and tosses it away. He bends to kiss my knee as his palms coast up my thighs, curving under and gently pulling them apart.
Oh.
OH.
"You...want to eat me?" The only confirmation is a wicked grin and heat floods my face. My legs drape over his arms as want crashes through me. "Because you like when I'm wet?"
He cusses softly, teeth grazing just above my thigh. "Yes."
He drags me closer. My brain has gone hazy. "Because then I'll be ready for you."
He takes a deep breath, the exhale fanning across my underwear. "You have no idea what you're doing to me." I frown through the haze. I'm only stating facts but he sounds like I'm teasing him. "But let me show you."
He pulls my underwear to the side and any thought, any care to where we are or what we're talking about is wiped away by my gasp. The Christmas lights stretch as my eyes close and he makes a satisfied noise that should be reserved for tasting desserts. My hands cover his, our fingers lacing together, and I surrender to the roll of his tongue. It isn't long before I crave more, more sensation and I drag his hand up my torso. His warm palm covers my breasts, kneading gently and I sigh. My back bows when his teeth scrape ever so slightly over that bundle and my moan fills the entire room.
His mouth leaves me and my eyes pry open, golden shards blurring at first, to find him looking up at me.
God, the way he looks at me.
My attention seems to be what he was waiting for because his other hand leaves my hip and then I feel his fingertips circle just below where his mouth had been before. My nails dig into his wrist, the cushion, and he grins. His tongue sweeps over me at the same time his touch pushes in.
Seeing and feeling it is too much. Watching him watch me is too much.
The golden light fractures as I gasp. "Dimitri, please."
And then he's off me, an arm wrapping around my waist and hoisting me up onto his hips.
"I told you, you don't have to beg."
He strides to the stairs as the tension caves into frustration. My fingers rake over his shoulders, probably leaving marks again, as I bite just below his ear.
"We need to work on your patience." He chides and I could snarl.
He crosses the threshold into my room and drops me onto the bed. He drags me to the edge, settling back onto his knees.
"I said I'd show you so pay attention."
"Then you stopped." The accusation is clear as I glower at him.
His dark eyes flick to mine. He removes my underwear and pushes my legs further apart. I try not to tremble, the thrill flurrying wilding in my stomach.
"Because once you come, once I hear it, I'll want to be inside you." His voice is low and silky, reigniting the molten ache. "Is that okay, Roza?"
I exhale. "Yes, I want you inside me too"
"Blya, ty menya ub'yesh'" He whispers harshly and descends on me.
My hands pull at the sheets, fasten in his hair as the tension rockets. I know he likes to hear me so I let go. I stop being embarrassed, wanting to hold back, and when his fingers curl inside me as he sucks hard I scream until it catches in my throat.
My legs lock, tremors passing through them that mirror the shattering aftershock. I hear the undoing of his belt as I try to gather myself, wriggling out of the tank top caught around my waist as he kicks his jeans away.
He crawls over me and I pull him down to my lips, moaning when his tongue slides against mine.
I want to feel the fullness of him. I want to be completely consumed. I want him to know how much I want, no hesitancy, no slow build. I kiss his throat, his chest and when he leans away to grab a pillow I sit up to kiss his stomach.
"Lie back and lift your hips for me, my love." He says.
I do.
He settles back over me, his strong thighs widening mine and I reach between us. Surprise crosses his face followed by that predatory intent. I line him up and he presses in slightly.
I stretch up and press my lips to his.
He sinks into me in one movement that robs me of air and makes his back arch with a groan. It takes a few seconds to adjust, dull pain at the edge of the pleasure. I grip his waist and he retreats slowly to then ease back, watching my face for any sign of discomfort.
"More." I tell him.
Dimitri kneels back, taking my hips in his hands, and shows me what 'more' can be. He moves with honed grace and yet there's nothing graceful about what he's doing to me. His pace is smooth and deep and I can't breathe fast enough, can only hold the bed so I don't fall off the earth.
I become the pleasure, I become the sensation coursing through my blood, building, as he watches where our bodies join and any control I have is torn away. I claw at his wrists wanting him closer, wanting his weight, just wanting.
"Come here."
He falls over me, forearms bracing by my head and his breath fanning my lips. I lock my legs around his waist, feeling him somehow move deeper and I should be embarrassed at the noises that I'm making but I don't have enough sense. He doesn't either.
"You feel so good." I manage, the last word broken on a whimper.
His pace slows, stringing out the sensation, fraying my nerves.
"Better than my touch?" He asks, shifting to curl an arm under my thigh so it's pushed back toward me.
"Yes." I hiss as he hits that depth, pressure curling.
"Better than my tongue?" He asks and there's a smile in his voice.
I force my eyes to his. "Yes."
He positions my legs so my ankles are just shy of being propped on his shoulders and I have the fleeting thought that I'm grateful to have done all those stretches.
My eyes drop to those lines of his hips.
"I've told you how you feel, haven't I?"
I shake my head, still watching, and his hands circle my waist.
"No?" He sinks into me, grinding precise and slow, and we both groan.
The promise of shattering is shimmering at the edges.
"Dimitri."
"Fuck, there are no words anyway." He growls.
His pace resumes and I'm not just consumed but dragged through the pleasure of it. I cry scrapes out of my throat as my body cannot contain this, this feeling is not made to be caged but roars to be set free. It climbs and climbs, driven by him and I'm at its mercy or it might be at mine as I want to burn and burn.
"I'm, I'm – oh god."
It hurtles up my spine and through every nerve ending, every connecting fiber before exploding so fiercely it steals half my scream. I feel him fall over me, gripping the mattress's edge as my undoing pulses through me and around him, dragging him with me. His hips pound into me, drawing out the bliss as I wrap myself around him trying to match his strokes. He says my name, tugging on my hair so his teeth can catch my lips as the shattering rips through him. I try to capture the sound, devour the heavy panting that follows, own the moment so I can visit it whenever I want to.
Most of his weight presses into me and I savour that too, his wild heartbeat mirroring my own. I can only breathe as the room becomes a place of substance again. I lift a shaky hand to run it over his head and he kisses my neck. After a few moments he leans up and I resent the small space created.
"I'm alright." I supply before he can ask.
He lets out a puff of air. "I'm not."
My eyebrows crease and he laughs quietly. "I thought, for a moment there, I lost all feeling in my legs. I thought something in my mind had actually broken."
I start laughing and he follows, his forehead leaning against mine.
"I love you." He says quietly, a smile on his lips
And it's like my lungs have finally recovered. "I love you, too."
We get in the shower again because it's easier and then hunt for our clothes. I don't know how but it becomes a game of who can get dressed faster and I try to run away with his jeans, throwing them into his room so I can get a head start. It's very unfair that I'm taking the stairs in nothing but a tank and underwear. I'm hopping into my leggings when he comes crashing silently into the living room, somehow jeans and belt on which only leaves his jumper. I try running away with them too but he catches me and tickles my sides until I screech and dart away.
He pulls it on with a triumphant grin and I glower from across the room.
"You cheated."
"Roza, we both know that is not true." He picks up my sweater and tosses it toward me. "I'm just faster."
I fix him a pointed look. "That is yet to be proven."
"Didn't I just prove it?"
I pull my arms through the sleeves. "You took off most of my clothes down here. It wasn't fair."
When I pull my head through I yelp as he's snuck up on me with that Guardian stealth. He pulls me up and against him. I pretend to be annoyed by it.
"Don't sulk." He purrs. "Not after you seemed rather pleased about my removing your clothes and the purpose it served."
I refuse to let the blush and the tug of my lips win. I look at him from under my lashes. "I just wanted to understand the joke."
He hums, dragging me up his body so my knees purchase on his hips. My arms wind around his shoulders. "So stubborn."
I grin. "And hungry." He raises an eyebrow and my blush burns. "Not like that!"
He chuckles and carries me to the couch, our abandoned picnic left on the table. He tries to set me down but I lock my limbs, imaging that baby bear on the tree, and wanting a few more seconds of warm citrus berries and warmth. He holds me there, arms fastening around me too as he sways gently.
I wonder if this ever dulls. Not the craving or the burning but this, the belonging here. I wonder how many people feel that with another person.
I kiss his cheek and he lets me down.
"Hot chocolate?"
I cross my legs and pick up my abandoned sandwich. "Please."
I hope it's still snowing. I hope we're stuck here for days. I look over to the glass wall and piled snow against it.
"Just a little longer, please."
After we eat, drink and ignore most of the movie – preferring to pay attention to each other - he pulls me to my feet.
At my questioning look, he smiles. "The waltz is a series of box steps. Six movements."
He turns off the TV and taps away on his phone until music drifts out of the speakers. It's something slow with guitar strings to pluck of feeling out of your chest. He draws my hand onto his shoulder and pulls me in by my waist. Our other hands clasped and raised. I feel nervous and somehow delicate – another intimacy.
"Straight back. Your arm strong but not rigid." He murmurs. "Feet parallel to mine. I'm going to lead you. When I step back on my left you step forward on your right. Land on the ball of your foot, movements should always be light.
His hand on my waist slides up and he leads me into the step, his left foot stepping back and my right follows. There's nothing light about it, I feel awkward and laugh nervously.
"It's like any other exercise we've done." He encourages.
He shows me the next series of steps and it is like moving in a square. Once I get the movements down, watching my feet most of the time, he tells me there's a rise and fall to the steps and the whole thing becomes complicated again.
I bring us to a stop.
"Don't overthink it." He instructs. "Try and feel it."
"It's not the same as training."
"It might be easier if you were in heels."
"I doubt it. I'd need alcohol."
He chuckles and I feel the deep sound of it in his chest.
"Close your eyes." He murmurs. I sigh but I do it. "Try and feel it."
Right, keep my eyes closed, try not to step on him, trip when he spins us, or kick him in the shin. All the things I couldn't manage with my eyes open.
I take a deep breath. His fingers flex around mine, the weight of his palm high on my ribs, the singers' soft voice drawing out a note. He moves and I follow, rising on the ball of my foot and coming down lightly. He guides me through it and somewhere in the rise and fall I open my eyes and look up at him. The gold simmers in the earth, the small smile playing on his lips as he pulls us into the spin.
The way this man looks at me.
I close the small gap to rest my head against his chest and drop our frame so I can rest both hands on his shoulders. His arm curls around my waist and the steps drift into something lazier, lulling.
Here is where I'm safe, where I'm loved, where I'm shown what that means.
He presses a kiss to my head and my eyes close again.
Behind my eyes the golden glow still filters through, the music swims around us as citrus berries fill my nose.
Here, with him, is my home.
Hello Lovelies, thank you for your patience. Had an unpredicted few days away from writing with family visits springing up and working overtime. Plus, this was supposed to be a tack on to the last chapter, 5-6k words at most... and here we are. I still didn't get to pack in everything I wanted but that just means there's more for later.
The next update won't be until the week after next at the earliest, have some oneshots and a subchapter to write before tackling a big chapter.
Thank you for your continued support xxx