This time, we can rush.
But the next time, we could go slow.
We had the rest of our lives for this, and I was secure with the confidence that I wouldn’t lose him. I wouldn’t lose myself to the past, either, so I could embrace him.
He lined up his dick to my entrance, and I tugged his head toward mine. Kissing him gave me a taste of myself, and like the other times before, it only served to ramp up my desire. Still riding out the waves of pleasure from the first climax he’d given me, I moaned and writhed beneath him as he fucked me.
Hard. Fast. Without a doubt.
He broke the kiss to gaze into my eyes, as if committing this to memory.
“I missed you,” he said, replying in kind to my remark at last. “I missed this.”
Nodding weakly, already so close to another orgasm, I groaned at the intensity of the tension that wanted to snap.
“Come for me, Natalie. Be mine again and come for me.”
“I want…” I panted, breathing so hard that thinking, let alone speaking, was difficult.
“Come for me,” he begged before kissing me hard.
Under the heat of his mouth on mine, his big, hard body pinning me to the cushion, I surrendered. He did too, coming with me as he muffled my shriek of pleasure with his lips sealed in a punishing, possessive kiss.
His dick jerked and twitched so deep inside me. Warmth shot into me and flooded my womb that clenched at the intensity of coming. Gloving him as he dragged his big cock out and thrust it back in, I took primal satisfaction in milking him dry, in proving what I didn’t finish saying.
I wantedhim.
Now. Like this. Drugging me with hot sex. Making me lax and sleepy from a good, hard fucking.
But as we lay there together, too spent and boneless to move as we caught our breath, I realized it was the simplicity of his strong arms enveloping me that truly eased the worry and anxiety in my mind.
Sergei holding me was all I needed.
I just had to have the faith that I could risk opening my heart to him again.
29
SERGEI
Much like when Natalie and I had sex the first time, she didn’t want to linger afterward. I expected her to regret it and retreat with how long she’d been avoiding me.
And I did my best not to take it personally.
She was still adjusting.
She was still skittish, but in a new way—skittish ofme.
In the morning, though, when I found her looking out from the balcony at her room, watching Maisie and Anya play in the sand on the beach, I headed toward her to test the waters. To see how she was feeling about me today. If missing me would become a theme between us.
“Morning,” I said after I strode through her room and found her in the outdoor space. She leaned against the half wall, looking out.
She turned and looked me over. “Morning,” she replied.
I didn’t detect any coolness in her greeting, so I took the chance to stand next to her and watch the sunrise.
“Did you sleep well?” I asked, for the lack of anything better to say.
I was determined to keep forging ahead. Last night seemed more like a dream than reality. A figment of my imagination. We’d come together in the heat of the moment, so this felt like a test now.
