Oh God. He sounded like he was weeping. Her heart thudded. Wept with him. She tried to turn, but he kept one hand pressed between her shoulder blades, preventing her from turning over or really lifting her head high enough to see him. She felt his breath, warm and soothing over the bruise. His lips touched her. So gently, like a whisper against her skin.
He stayed like that for a long time, his head resting in the small of her back, one hand between her shoulder blades, one arm wrapped around her rib cage, palm cupping her breast. She didn't talk. What was there to say? She loved him.
She would have given anything to take away those terrible hours when he didn't know if she was dead or alive. She would have protected and spared him anything she could, because she loved him more than life itself. She couldn't be sorry for their choice. She had known the risks going into it, and those risks were well worth the outcome. Her husband, the love of her life, was free.
"I don't want you to sleep with clothes tonight. I know I can't make love to you, but I don't want anything between us."
"Honey," she murmured, "I'm not so battered that we can't make love."
He stood up and she was able to turn over. She watched as he took off his shirt. He shook his head. "No, I'm selfish, malyshka, but not that selfish."
His hands dropped to the zipper of his slacks and her mouth watered. He might not be that selfish, but she wasn't so certain she could say the same. Naked, all those wonderful muscles flowing enticingly, he slid next to her and drew up the covers. Turning, he circled her waist and pulled her in close to him, the way he always did. He liked close. Very close. Lissa was happy to oblige.
She had missed him. Missed the feel of his warmth. His hot skin. The way his body was so hard and solid, making her feel safe. She needed safe after enduring all those hours in that horrible room, praying the rescuers would find her soon. She'd never tell him. He was already angry, blaming himself. But she still needed him real and solid wrapped around her.
Lissa didn't think she'd drift off to sleep so fast, but truthfully, she was still exhausted physically from the beating and the pain in her arm. With Casimir's body tight against hers, his heat melding with hers, she felt cocooned in warmth.
She jerked awake two hours later, her heart pounding, his name on her lips, in her mouth. She'd used him as her talisman a hundred times under the desk while the rocks creaked and dirt kept falling. She lifted her head and looked at him.
She'd left the lamp across the room on low because she didn't want to be in the dark, not after spending so many hours in the dark of that sadistic interrogation room. She could see Casimir's face. He was on his back again, like usual. He always started on his side, but then, once fully asleep, he turned on his back, taking her with him. The way he slept was very familiar to her now. She liked that he was sprawled out on the bed, taking up space. A lot of space. He liked to pull her body over his so she was on top of him, her head pillowed on his chest. One arm was slung across her back. His other hand was on her butt.
He was beautiful. Masculine. She studied his face a long time. Watching him breathe. His lashes were far too long for a man's but didn't detract in the least from his hard, male features. She liked the little bit of shadow on his jaw, shivering a little when she remembered how it felt rasping against her inner thighs.
They were supposed to meet on the plane. Not even in the airport, but the plane itself. Their seats together. Two strangers meeting. She should have known he would come to her. She missed him every moment they were apart, and he certainly didn't love her any less. She loved him all the more for being there, even though he was a little crazy for taking the risk.
She ran her hand over his chest, letting the pads of her fingers absorb the feel of his muscles. She loved that she lay over top of him sleeping and he'd put her there. She especially loved waking up with his body under hers. She shifted just a few inches and she was straddling him, her legs on either side of his hips. That felt - amazing. Wanton. Definitely erotic.
He had said he couldn't make love to her. Nothing had been said about her making love to him. She would just have to be careful that she didn't bonk him with her klutzy cast. She took her time, moving slowly, lazily, savoring every moment she had, committing his body to memory, burning it into her mind through her fingertips and lips. Tasting his skin with her mouth. With her tongue. Tracing her name into his muscles. His rib cage. His impressive six-pack that was more like an eighteen-pack. She scooted down his body, one slow inch at a time. Every inch of him was worshiped, because that's what she did - she worshiped him, and he needed to know that. She wanted him to feel the overwhelming intense love she had for him.
She had woken three times to him in her hospital room. Casimir. Risking everything. His very life. Just to check on her. Just to make certain she was safe and unharmed. Love welled up, so strong, an almost painful, terrible love, one she knew would always last. He would always be her first thought. He would be her last thought.
"Malyshka."
She loved that he called her baby in his language. Well, not baby exactly, more like little girl, but all the same, she loved the endearment, especially when he said it in a velvet soft voice that seemed to slide over her skin in a long caress.
She licked along his hip bone, sliding her tongue along the edge, wondering at the fact that she could be so lucky. So happy. She was alive when she hadn't expected to be. She was with her husband. Husband. The best man in the world.
"Casimir." She breathed his name against his belly. Her hand caressed his inner thighs. She loved how strong they were. She especially loved the way his muscles tightened under her brushstrokes. She kissed him, right along the sweet line of dark hair rising around his amazing erection.
"You're hurt, Giacinta. You need care right now."
"I do." She murmured her agreement and licked along his long, beautiful shaft. So thick. She loved how hard he was, just like steel. Her body reacted, going damp at the thought of him inside her. She loved how that steel seemed to be encased in velvet, soft and silky, sliding inside her body, giving her such pleasure.
He groaned softly in reaction to her tongue, his body shuddering.
"I do need care." She murmured her soft agreement, pleased with his reaction. Her sex contracted, a powerful reaction to his.
Her fingers moved up the inside of his right thigh until she found his heavy sac, already tight. She stroked more caresses there while her tongue ensured his shaft was wet and slick. Her fingers moved lower, brushing that soft spot that had him groaning and shifting his legs restlessly. She chose that moment to take him in her mouth, engulfing him, sliding her lips tight around him.
His hips bucked. She tightened her suction, determined she had the control. Her fingers never stopped their worship of him. Her mouth settled in for enjoyment of her task. She was merciless, driving him higher and higher, wanting him to feel the intensity of the love she had for him.
"I'm close, golubushka." He groaned the admission. The warning.
She immediately slid up his body, straddling him. "Sit up, Casimir." She kept her fist wrapped firmly around his heavy erection.
He complied instantly, his back toward the headboard, Lissa on his lap. She kept her fingers curled around the base of his shaft and slowly lowered her body so she could impale herself. She kept control, going slow, her tight muscles protesting the invasion, giving away reluctantly.
His arms went around her body, holding her close to him so that her nipples brushed his chest. Her breath exploded when she was fully seated on him. Instantly his arms tightened even more until her body seemed to melt into his and there was no separation between them. It seemed as if they shared the same skin. She felt his every heartbeat. His every breath.
She wrapped her cast around his back and leaned into him as she rode him. Slow. Easy. Her muscles tight. Her body hot. A lazy, sexy ride that she hoped made him feel as loved as she was trying to convey with her body. He nuzzled her shoulder, his mouth on the side of her neck. She'd have a strawberry there.
She rode him for a long while, holding him close, savoring their bond. "I love you," she whispered into his ear. "I love you more than life, Casimir. I'll always love you." She spiraled down his shaft, a slow, tight fist gloving him. Stroking him with scorching-hot caresses. Slowly milking him. An exquisite torture.
He bit her gently, right where he'd sucked and licked. The spot that drove her wild. The little bite of pain sent sparks radiating through her body. She cried out. Dug her nails into his shoulder.