Lev, holding Zena gingerly in his arms as he tries not to jostle her. Polly, bouncing Katya on her hip while she peppers her with kisses. Nikolai looming over both of them, checking back and forth with the hint of a smile fluttering on his lips.
“Both our girls are finally home.” I sigh, letting out a pent-up breath I’ve held in for five long months.
Uri squeezes me tighter. “You did it.”
“We did it.”
He chuckles. “Oh, no. I know when to take credit and when to cede the spotlight. This was you, narushitel. You did this.”
Laughing, I rest my head back against his chest. He underplays his role a lot, but I know just how lucky I am. He wakes up with me every night for every feeding. He’s changed more diapers than I have by several orders of magnitude. There’s never been any doubt in my mind that we, the girls and I, are his highest priority.
A familiar tingle spreads through my body. I haven’t felt it in so long that, for a while there, I was worried I’d never feel it again. But as it turns out, I needed time. My body needed to heal first. Then my mind.
I twist around in Uri’s arms so that I can face him. “Hey. Since our babysitters have got this covered, wanna come with me?”
His eyebrows tilt downward curiously. “Lead the way.”
I leave the girls with their uncles and aunt and lead Uri upstairs to our newly renovated master bedroom. I make him sit on the edge of the bed, then I extricate myself from his grasp and step back. Slowly, I start to undo the buttons of my dress.
“Alyssa…”
“Shh. Sit and watch.”
“It’s not that I don’t love what’s happening,” Uri rumbles. “But… are you sure?”
“It’s been over six months,” I point out.
“And I’ll wait a century if that’s what you need.”
I love him for saying it. For being so patient with me. I was cleared for sex months ago. But with Zena still in hospital, I was just not in the right headspace for that kind of intimacy. And Uri never once pressured me. He held me at night, comforted me to sleep, picked up the weight of my load whenever he could. We may not have been having sex, but that didn’t stop me from falling deeper and deeper in love with him with each passing day.
How could I not? It was so easy. So effortless.
Every time I saw him soothe Katya. Or sing to Zena in the hospital. Every time he took Katya from my arms so that I could sleep and made me endless cups of tea and laid out my clothes and cooked and this and that and that and this. All those little gestures, those little moments of tenderness… that was lovemaking in its own way.
I wriggle the dress down my hips and step out of it when it puddles to my feet. “I’ve had enough time. I want you. I want my man.”
He winces as, with my eyes on his, I make a show of removing my bra, then my panties. “Fuck,” he mutters, taking in my body as though it’s a work of art. “You’re so fucking perfect.”
I glance down at the new scar just under my belly. At first, I hated it. Even now, I’m self-conscious of the red, knotted flesh. But every night, before we go to sleep, Uri kisses it. And while I may never be a huge fan of the marks of what happened to me, I am a fan of that.
“It makes you all the more beautiful, you know. The scar. It’s perfect.”
The tears spring to my eyes instantly. “Uri…”
He leans forward, grabs my hand and pulls me towards him. “It’s a sign of everything you’ve overcome. It’s a testament to how tough you are. I wish you didn’t have to have it, but fuck, I’m so glad you’re the type of woman who can wear it so proudly.”
More tears are close to breaking loose and my lip is wobbling like crazy now—but he isn’t done yet.
He reaches out and pulls me into the circle of his arms. His hands are soft and huge on my hips as he kisses my neck and murmurs, “But you know what scar I like even better… is this one.” I’m confused until he leans down and presses a kiss into the tiny little ripple on my thigh.
The place where, what feels like lifetimes ago, I caught a nail sticking out of a certain someone’s fence.
I laugh and cup his head in my hands. His hunger for me is obvious in every motion, in the way he grips my ass and pulls me as close as possible—but he’s holding back. It’s been so long that there’s a new kind of anxious, uncertain excitement that’s crept in between us.
It feels like the first time all over again.
There’s all the urgency and passion of physical desire that’s been slowly building steam over months of abstinence. But there’s the comfort and safety in the emotional connection the two of us have built together. We share two beautiful daughters; we share a wealth of experiences. Some are good, some are bad, some are a shrink’s wet dream.
But we’ve weathered through every storm together. And we’ve come out on the other side stronger than before.
We fall back onto the bed together as the kiss deepens. I’m writhing around on Uri like I’m scared he’ll disappear. Between my thighs, I’m wetter than I can remember ever being in my entire life.
At some point, his clothes vanish and he slides into me. We move together, slow and cautious at first, then a little bit faster and a little bit more needy. He lets me dictate the pace from the top.
Soon, “caution” is a word of the past. I’m bucking wildly, my hands planted on his chest for balance as my hips move in a desperate blur. He rises up to kiss my breasts as I bounce on his lap and moan up to the ceiling above us.
My nails dig into his back as the orgasm hits. “Uri,” I gasp wildly. “Oh God… I’m coming… I’m com—ohh.”
He groans along with me as we ride out the waves together. The motion slows and softens until we’re just a tangle of limbs and heavy breathing again.
Past the buzzing in my extremities, I’m only vaguely aware of his lips as he kisses his way up to my throat. “That was…”
“Amazing?”
He chuckles. “Definitely. But entirely too fast. Next time will be a little more deliberate.”
“Tonight?” I ask hopefully.
His eyes are bright and mischievous as they stare down at me. “When have I ever needed more than five minutes with you, my little thief?”
I chew at my lip. “What about the girls?”
“Let’s take an hour for ourselves. We deserve it.”
I smirk. “An hour, huh? That’s, like… at least three more orgasms’ worth.”
“Only three?” He nips playfully at the underside of my jaw. “You’re underestimating me.”
I laugh. “I don’t think I can handle any more than three.”
A slow grin spreads across his face. “We’ll just have to see about that.”