As I suck and lick her nipple, my hand trails down her body, to the apex between her thighs, and slides to touch her clit. She whimpers, her hands sinking into my hair, holding me against her breasts. Her body is made to be worshipped, and tonight she’s my goddess.
I sink one finger into her pussy, while my thumb plays with her clit, teasing, playing, until she’s whimpering and begging under her breath.
“Dimitri, please…” she begs. “I need….” Her voice trails off.
I pop her nipple out of my mouth and stare into her pleasure-filled face. I want to capture her like this forever.
I quickly shed my clothes and lay on top of her, careful to balance my weight on my elbows so I don’t crush her. Her hands reach down and guide my erection toward her heat. My breath stops at the burst of pleasure, and I plunge into her, forgetting for a moment that I want to take things slow.
She moans and wraps her legs around my waist, pressing me deeper into her. I go slow, circling my arms around her waist and holding her against me.
I continue to thrust into her, slowly. I can’t remember the last time I made love to a woman like this.
“Dimitri. I’m coming,” she cries, and I shut my eyes, letting her explosion of pleasure push me into my own orgasm.
We collapse onto the sheets, chests heaving, the air thick with the scent of sex and the ringing silence of a war unexpectedly paused. I roll onto my side, pulling Vivian with me until she’s curled against my chest, her head resting on my shoulder. My arms are wrapped tight around her waist—not in possession or dominance, but in a simple, desperate need to feel her weight, her warmth, her reality beside me.
I press a kiss to the top of her hair. It feels foreign, gentle, and terrifyingly honest. It’s alien to me.
I should say something mocking. Something to remind us both that this was just a physical release, a momentary lapse in my grand scheme of revenge. But the words catch in my throat, replaced by a devastating thought: She’s not just the enemy’s daughter. She’s now something much…more.
Chapter 10 – Vivian
Slowly, my eyes blink open to sunlight spilling into the room through the overhead window. It takes a second for the world to make sense.
This isn’t my room. The sheets are different—cooler, thicker. The scent is different too: cedarwood, smoke, and something inherently Dimitri.
And then I feel it. A strong arm, heavy and warm, draped around my waist. Possessive. Anchoring. My heartbeat stutters.
Carefully, I turn, the silk sheet sliding against my skin, and I come face-to-face with Dimitri.
He’s asleep.
His blond hair—usually slicked back, controlled, sharp—is messy, scattered over the pillow in soft waves. One lock has fallen over his forehead. His jaw is relaxed. His breathing is slow and even.
He looks…peaceful. The harshness he carries when he’s awake—anger, coldness, revenge—none of it is here.
Just a man.
Just Dimitri.
I study him quietly, almost cautiously, as if I breathe too loudly, this moment will dissolve into smoke.
When did hatred turn into this dangerous tenderness?
Last night flashes back in fragments—his hands on my skin, his voice low and unguarded, the way he kissed me like he wanted to consume and protect in the same breath.
And afterward….
God.
Afterward, he had held me. His arm had circled my waist then—gentle, steady—pulling me into his chest like he was afraidI might vanish if he let go. And somewhere between his warmth and his heartbeat, I fell asleep.
I shouldn’t feel safe. But I did.
I shouldn’t feel this…pull. But I do.
And now, lying here in his bed with sunlight on our skin and his arm claiming my waist even in sleep…I don’t know if I’m waking up from a dream or stepping straight into a disaster.
