"Niko," I breathe, pressing back against him as his fingers dance over my skin.
His hand splays across my belly, cradling the slight swell there. "How are you feeling?" he asks, nuzzling my ear.
"Good," I whisper, a grin forming that I can’t hold back. "And even better now."
He hums in approval, his fingers resume tracing lazy patterns on my skin. There's no urgency in his touch, just a tender exploration that makes my heart ache.
Slowly, reverently, he turns me to face him. His ice blue eyes, usually so cold and guarded, are warm as they roam my face. One hand cups my cheek while the other continues its gentle caress of my stomach.
"You're beautiful," he says softly, and for once there's no calculation in his gaze, just raw honesty. I feel my cheeks flush at the unexpected compliment.
"Niko," I whisper, overcome with emotion. My hand reaches up to trace the strong line of his jaw, marveling at how open and unguarded he looks in this moment and savoring it because I know it won’t last.
He captures my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm but as I suspected he’s already withdrawing, like he knows he’s said too much, and that makes my heart ache in a different way.
I rest my hand over his heart feeling its strong, steady beat beneath my fingers. I wish it beat for me like it does for our child, but I’m not that naive. Still, I’ll take everything I can get. He leans down and captures my lips, and I lean into the contact. The kiss deepens, slow and sensual. Niko's hands continue to worship my body, mapping every curve and plane as if committing them to memory. There's none of his usual urgency or dominance - instead, he touches me like I'm something precious, something to be cherished.
I wish it was real. That I could have this all the time.
Pushing those intrusive thoughts aside, I melt into his embrace, overwhelmed by this new tenderness. I stroke my fingers through his hair, taking the rare opportunity to touch him this way as he trails kisses down my neck, pausing to suckle gently at my pulse point.
A soft moan escapes me and Niko murmurs against my skin. "Let me take care of you."
He shifts, moving down my body with a trail of feather-light kisses. When he reaches my belly, he pauses, resting his forehead against the slight swell. For a moment, he's completely still, and I wonder if he's saying a silent prayer or making another fierce promise to our unborn son.
Then he continues his journey, parting my thighs with gentle hands. The first swipe of his tongue makes me gasp and bow off the bed. Niko holds my hips steady as he worships me with his mouth, drawing out my pleasure with exquisite skill. While he permits it, I allow my fingers to roam his body as waves of ecstasy build within me.
"Niko," I moan, my voice breathy and desperate. He hums against me in response, the vibrations sending shockwaves through my body.
As I near the peak, Niko slides two fingers inside me, curling them just so. The dual sensation of his fingers and tongue pushes me over the edge. I cry out, my back flexing as intense pleasure washes over me.
Niko works me through the aftershocks before kissing his way back up my body. When he reaches my lips, I taste myself on his tongue. The kiss is deep and passionate, conveying emotions I don’t dare put into words.
He enters me slowly, joining our bodies almost reverently. There's no frantic urgency, just a steady, sensual rhythm as we move together. Niko's eyes never leave mine, and I see something there I've never witnessed before, but I’m too scared to wonder what it means.
My legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper. One of his hands finds mine, fingers intertwining as he braces himself above me. The other cradles my face, thumb stroking my cheek tenderly. The intimacy of the gesture nearly undoes me.
"Emylyah," he breathes, his voice rough with emotion. "My Lyah."
Hearing my name on his lips, spoken with such deference, sends a shiver through me; he never calls me by my pet name. I arch up, meeting his thrusts as the pressure builds once more. Niko's movements become more urgent, his breathing ragged against my neck.
"Come for me, moya lyubov," he murmurs, his fingers finding my already sensitive clit. "Let me feel you."
His words and his touch push me over the edge and I cry out, clinging to him as waves of pleasure crash over me. Niko follows moments later, burying his face in my hair as he finds his release with an elongated groan.
For long moments we lay tangled together, catching our breath. His weight on me is comforting, grounding and I want to stay like this forever, pretending this tenderness is real, that it will last beyond the afterglow.
But all too soon, reality intrudes. Niko pulls away, rolling onto his back beside me. The loss of contact leaves me feeling bereft and I turn my head to look at him, studying his profile. His jaw is clenched, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The vulnerability I glimpsed moments ago is already fading, replaced by his usual stoic mask.
"Niko?" I whisper, reaching out to touch his arm. He flinches slightly, and my heart sinks.
"We should get up," he says gruffly, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "I have meetings today."
Just like that, the spell is broken. The tender lover of moments ago is gone, replaced by the cold, distant man I'm more familiar with. I watch as he strides to the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him.
Tears prick at my eyes, but I blink them back furiously. I won't cry. I know better than to hope for more, to imagine this newfound gentleness extends beyond fleeting, unguarded moments.
Still, as I listen to the shower running, my hand drifts to my belly. The memory of Niko's reverent touch lingers on my skin. For a brief, shining moment, I had a glimpse of what could be - of the family I've always dreamed of. The tenderness, the connection, the love.
