Michael could not take his eyes off her. He stood, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide. “Mana mila,” he croaked, “you look…I…uh…” He could see a smile forming at the corner of Sophie’s mouth as he tried to make a coherent sentence in any of his languages.
“May I come in?” He nodded. Sophie slipped inside, closed the door and locked it. The click sounded unusually loud. They were in a room with a bed and a door. And a lock. Neither of them was suffering from a life-threatening illness anymore.
He took three steps across the room and caught her in his arms. “I did not think you would come to me today.” He could feel her body through the thin material, and he had to fight the urge to throw her down on the bed and take her right in that moment. “At least, not like this.”
“I need you,” she said. He held her, letting those words wash over him. They felt good.
“I need you, too.” He picked her up and laid her on the bed. Michael shrugged out of his shirt and kicked off his shoes and socks before lying down beside her. He traced his finger along her lips, then hissed with pleasure when the tip of her tongue darted out. She kissed the pad of his finger, running her teeth lightly over it, then sucked it into her mouth. He let her take all his fingers, one by one, into her mouth. He slowly pulled his fingers away, and she followed them, eyes closed. He met her halfway and captured her lips with his.
The kiss was so scorching that Michael thought he might explode. Sophie nibbled on his upper lip, sucking it softly. Her lips parted under his, and he slipped his tongue into her warm mouth. She tasted delicious. Her arms came up around his neck. The feel of her silk-clad body pressing against him made him moan.
He slid his mouth away from hers and started kissing down her neck, loving the feel of her skin under his lips. He followed the edge of the white silk down between her breasts, nuzzling against her. He wrapped his lips around her nipple and sucked at it through the thin material. His cock had grown so hard inside his jeans that he ached.
“Mikael,” she gasped, putting her hands on his head and holding him in place. Her breasts were perfect. Round and full, lusciously soft. He’d been dying for this moment since he’d seen her in the shower in Kaliningrad. Since he’d first fallen in love with her more than ten years ago.
Michael tugged the delicate fabric away to find the dark pink tip beneath, suckling it while he teased the other one into a hard point with the tips of his fingers. Sophie ground her hips against him until he had to still her for fear he would come in his jeans from the relentless friction.
He tore himself away from her breasts and ran his face over her torso, concerned that he could feel every rib as he moved down. Sophie was far too thin. She needed to eat more, get back to a healthy weight. Michael kissed her ribs gently and ran his fingers over them, one at a time, promising without words that he would take better care of her going forward.
By the time his slow inspection had reached her stomach, she’d begun to beg for him in a needy, breathless voice. Grinning, he drifted lower, planting kisses through the silk. As he moved down the inside curve of her hip, he realized Sophie wore nothing beneath her nightgown. All he could feel beneath his face was damp heat and softness, her scent sending flames roaring through his already overloaded nervous system.
He sat back up abruptly, losing his grip on what little control he had left. She reached out and yanked on his jeans, freeing his rearing penis. He heaved a sigh of relief, then watched mesmerized as she stroked him.
Sophie smiled and sat up, pushing him back on his heels. “I think ten years is enough foreplay, don’t you?” She pulled off the white silk and tossed it aside, lying back on the bed with her arms out in invitation.
Michael struggled out of his jeans and knelt between her thighs, spreading her legs authoritatively. The dark red curls over her sex were damp, and she arched toward him as he fluttered his fingers across her swollen nub. Pausing for just a moment, he leaned over and kissed her GYL tattoo reverently. For a moment, he considered bringing her to orgasm with his mouth, but he wasn’t sure he could hold back his own climax while he did that. He leaned forward eagerly, but she put her hand on his chest to halt his progress.
“Condom,” she whispered.
For a minute, Michael panicked, wondering where he would find a condom in this place. Then he remembered the gift from Anjali, still sitting in the bag that held his meager collection of personal items. He climbed off the bed, found the box and came back to try again.
A moment later, he put his forearms on either side of her shoulders, and lowered his body to hers. He looked into her eyes. She smiled and kissed him, putting her hands on his face. This is Sophie, my Sophie. We were always meant to be together. He slowly pushed into her tight, wet depths. She let out a gasp, her legs coming up to wrap around his waist. He pressed his forehead to hers, and they stayed that way for a moment.