I rest my head on his naked pec and hook my leg around his waist, my body involuntarily shuddering when my knee brushes the girth between his legs. He’s soft—even a sex fiend’s dick deflates when they sleep—but he doesn’t need to be erect to understand what he’s packing.
When I shift slightly, Mikhail murmurs something incoherent in his sleep. A smile tugs at my lips as I recall the countless times he’s done that previously. It reminds me of the bond we once shared and how our feelings didn’t need to be vocalized to be felt.
We loved hard, and we loved deep.
I truly can’t imagine having those feelings for anyone else. Mikhail wasitfor me. My fate was to be with him and only him.
We just lived in a world too cruel to let young love flourish without interference.
The reminder has me inching back toward my half of the mattress long before I’ve had my fill.
“Not yet,” Mikhail murmurs, tightening his grip around my waist. “I’ve not slept this soundly in over a decade. I’m not ready to let go just yet.”
With my heart in my throat, I peer up at him, desperate to gauge the truth of his reply. The room is still dark, but enough moonlight is creeping through the curtains for me to see his face. His eyes are closed, and the rhythmic movements of his chestcould lull me back to sleep, but there’s something off with his expression. He looks like he’s fighting a smile, like he’s not truly asleep.
“Your Adam’s apple moved!” I shout after watching it bob for the fourth time. “That doesn’t happen when you’re asleep. Circadian rhythmicity diminishes saliva production during sleep.”
I laugh like the alarm clock on the bedside table isn’t stating it is 3 a.m. when Mikhail’s groggy voice fills my ears with the beats of my heart. “I have no fucking clue what you just said, and it is too early for the dictionary in my head to contemplate turning on.”
“Layman’s terms won’t alter their meaning. You’re a big fat fake sleeperer.”Was that even English?
Mikhail laughs when I jab my fingers in his ribs in response to his humorous gawk at my confused expression, but he doesn’t uncocoon me from his hold.
If anything, his grip firms.
“I learned from the best.”
My mouth falls open, but since I stayed awake after our brief non-sparring conversation purely to watch him sleep, a peep doesn’t sound from my lips. I screw up my nose and stick out my tongue before I return my cheek to his pec to count the lazy beats of his heart like it is perfectly acceptable for enemies to spoon under the covers and in the safety of darkness.
It is nice. Comforting. It reminds me of everything I lost but also of everything I could have again if I could just let my anger go.
I know a good way to begin that.
“Have you really not snuggled with anyone since… you know?”
The only noise over the next minute is the faint sounds from outside. Then, eventually, Mikhail’s reply. “Yeah. It didn’t feelright doing it with anyone else.” Stupid sentimental tears prick my eyes. “It wasourthing. I wasn’t interested in sharing it with someone else.”
“If only you could say the same thing about your magic wand, eh?”
I hate myself the instant my sneered comment leaves my mouth. Since I haven’t exactly remained celibate, why would I expect him to?
“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I just…” I stop talking when I struggle to explain why I’m still jealous after all this time. It should feel as foreign as a dip in confidence. It just doesn’t.
Mikhail’s voice sounds groggy when he says, “We will talk more in the morning, Em.” He yawns into my hair before he loses his nose between the messy locks. “For now, let me relish my first good night’s sleep in over ten years.”
I scoot closer to hide my grin and then close my eyes, optimistic that the steady movements of his chest will lull me back to sleep in no time.
Despite the chaos I’m confident will ensue again tomorrow, this moment of peace is more intimate than the refuge I sought swimming miles. We will face whatever challenges lie ahead, but for now, in the cocoon of his embrace, I’m going to relish the peace his closeness offers.
Chapter 16
Mikhail
Amoan wakes me. A faint grind closely follows it.
I’m about to repel, assuming I failed to kick out my latest bed companion, until the shuddering breath hitting my neck registers as familiar.
Emerson presses her cock-thickening body against mine—her clit grinding along my thigh. Her eyes are closed, but her flushed expression as her soft breaths ruffle my chest hairs is extremely telling.
