Page 133 of Velvet Chains
The words rumble from Victor’s throat, hitting me hard. Hearing him call me that in Russian, it’s so intense it almost makes me cry.
He’s been using it constantly since we got home, like he’s making up for lost time. I lean into his touch, warmth blooming in my chest.
“Moya lyubov’,” I echo, the words still a little clumsy on my tongue. “Am I saying it right?”
Victor’s eyes soften, his hands gentle on my belly. “Yeah, zhena, you got it. Ty moya lyubov’. You’re my love.”
He leans down, capturing my lips in a sweet, lingering kiss that makes my toes curl. I sigh into his mouth, melting against him, letting myself get lost in the slow, drugging slide of his tongue against mine.
When he finally pulls back, I’m flushed and a little dazed, my lips tingling. I blink up at him, a sudden thought piercing the haze of contentment.
“Hey,” I murmur, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I think I’m ready to go back to work.”
Victor shakes his head, his expression darkening. “Not yet, lyubov moya. Your shoulder’s still healing. Doc says you need a few more months of rest.”
“But I’m fine now, see?” I protest, rolling my shoulder to prove my point. But the movement sends a sharp twinge through the still-tender muscles, making me wince. “Okay, maybe not completely fine. But I’m getting there.”
Victor gives me a look, his eyes narrowing. “Laura, dorogaya, you took a fucking bullet. You’re not going anywhere until Doc gives the all-clear.”
I huff, pouting a little. “Dr. Petrov did a great job with the surgery, though. The scar’s healing nicely.” I tug the collar of my shirt aside, revealing the puckered pink line along my collarbone.
Victor’s face softens, his fingers coming up to trace the mark with a feather-light touch. “I know he did, lyubov’. But that doesn’t mean you’re ready to jump back into the fray.” He dips his head down, pressing a gentle kiss to the scar. “Let yourself heal. I’ll take care of you, get you whatever you need. Okay?”
I sigh, leaning into him. “I’m not used to being coddled,” I grumble, even as I burrow deeper into his arms.
“Get used to it,” he rumbles, a smile in his voice. “You’re carrying my malysh. Coddling is part of the deal.”
I pout, tracing a finger along his jawline. “You’re too protective, you know that? Worrying over me, over the baby…”
He catches my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. “It’s my job to worry, to keep you both safe. After everything that’s happened…”
His voice trails off, old shadows flickering in his eyes. I cup his face, drawing him back to me. “Hey, none of that. We’re here, we’re okay. Thanks to you.”
Victor leans into my touch, a small smile tugging at his lips.He takes a deep breath, shaking off the ghosts of the past. “You’re right, lyubov’. We’re safe, and that’s what matters.”
He gently guides me to lie back down, his hands returning to my belly. “Now, let’s get back to pampering my two favorite people, da?”
I grin up at him, warmth filling my chest. “You spoil us too much.”
“Damn right, I do,” he growls playfully, digging his thumbs into the tight muscles of my lower back. “And I’m going to keep doing it for the rest of our lives.”
He works in silence for a few minutes, the oil-slicked glide of his hands lulling me into a state of boneless bliss. I can feel the tension melting away, my body going soft and pliant under his touch.
“You’re good at this.” I smile at him.
“Thanks to the magic of YouTube tutorials and quality massage oils.”
I can’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from my belly, flooding me with joy. It’s the kind of laughter that makes everything feel lighter, brighter. The kind that reminds me how lucky I am, how much I love this man.
“Are you laughing at my massage prowess?” Victor quirks a brow, a playful gleam in his eye.
“Never.” I grin, biting my lip. “I would never mock such attention to detail.”
“Hmm, I think you need a little reminder of just how detailed I can be.”
Victor’s eyes darken as his hands skim higher, cupping my tits. My nipples are so sensitive now, aching at the slightest touch. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he growls, rolling the tight peaks between his fingers. “Could stare at you all day.”
“Just stare?” I gasp, arching into his touch.
