So there are two dimples.
She flopped down next to him on the bed, and reached down for the bedclothes that had fallen back at some stage, tugging them up over their bodies in the night's cool. He helped her, sliding an arm under her shoulders and tucking her against his chest.
He was so warm; her hand a contrast to his where it lay on his chest. He had such a broad chest she could hardly reach the far side. She pulled herself up onto one elbow and, propping her head in her hand, stared down at him.
He had one arm ticked under the pillow under his head, the muscles in his arms bulging in a way that she had seen before only on professional bodybuilders. Her mouth went dry as she drank in all the bronzed skin spread before her.
This was Domik. My Domik. Mine.
The vehemence of the thought startled her, and she stilled her hand, shooting a quick glance at him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Why did he have to know her so well? He always knew when she was upset, often before she had even registered that something was wrong herself. It was uncanny.
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?” He frowned, his face once more taking on the usual expression of stoicism she thought of as his resting Domik face.
“Know when I’m…” she trailed off, lost for the right words, and waved a hand absently.
He lifted a hand and smoothed it over her back. The gesture calmed her, and she pushed into his touch, like a cat being petted.
“You are easy to read, Clodagh.”
She huffed out a breath. “Really? Then why do you always lose when we’re playing chess?”
A slow smile tilted one side of his mouth before he replied. “Who says I’m playing to win?”
She smirked. “Those are fighting words. As soon as we get back to the Zataras, it’s game on, big guy.”
This time it was Domik’s turn to lift on one elbow. The sheer mass of him looming over her stilled her breath. He was huge. More so lying down next to her, and yet she didn’t feel one bit afraid. Quite the opposite. It was as if his presence, just like this, was enough to make her feel that everything was going to be OK.
He smiled down at her and dropped a kiss to her lips. His mouth was strong, his lips broad but gentle as he slicked his tongue against hers. She moaned, and he pulled away with a regretful smile.
“Get some sleep. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?” He dropped a kiss to her forehead.
She turned onto her side, tucking one hand under the pillow, and closing her eyes. Domik curled around her, dropping one arm over her waist, and pulling her close to nestle against his crotch—his still hard crotch—and nuzzle into her hair.
“Good night Dom,” she whispered, closing her eyes.
Domik’s hand, splayed against her stomach, moved backward and forward in a soothing motion that soon had CJ dropping into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.
