Page 125 of No Longer Mine

I felt her body shudder—felt her unravel beneath me— and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I thrust into her once more, burying myself as deep as I could, and let go, growling her name like a prayer as I spilled into her.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was our ragged breathing, our bodies still tangled together. I brushed damp hair from her face, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.

She looked up at me with hazy, satisfied eyes. “Wow.”

Chapter Fifty-Two

Scarlett

Dimitri pulled my dress up,which made me roll my eyes. “You want to see me in all of my naked glory, now?”

He chuckled, and it melted my insides. Was I dreaming? “I’m checking your wound.”

I swatted at his hands. “I’m fine, I told you.”

He rolled his eyes. “I won’t believe you until I see it for myself.”

He pressed his hand to my shoulder and guided me back down to the couch, and pulled my dress up again around my hips. Heat pooled low in my belly at the movement. Nothing had ever felt like that before. No one had ever cared for me like that before. Most of my experiences with sex were sloppy and not special. I’d never had a boyfriend, I’d never let anyone get too close. But Dimitri was as close as close could get. He was seeing me.

He was seeing me in a way no one ever had before. Not just my body—but me.

“This looks good,” he murmured, his thumb brushing just above the wound. “No signs of infection. Still a little red, but that’s how it’ll look for a while. It’ll scar pretty bad.”

“Told you,” I said, trying for nonchalance. But my voice was softer than I intended, betraying the tightness in my chest.

His gaze flicked up to mine, and for a long, heavy moment, he just watched me. His expression unreadable, but his eyes—those dark, unreadable eyes—burned with something I wasn’t sure I could name.

Then, quietly, “You’re not used to this, are you?”

I blinked. “Used to what?”

“Someone taking care of you.”

The words struck something deep inside me, something I didn’t want to examine too closely. I forced a smirk as I raised a brow. “You mean hovering over me like a mother hen?”

Dimitri exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “You deflect like it’s an Olympic sport.”

I shrugged, though my pulse had kicked up. “I’m just saying, I can take care of myself and you didn’t have to check it after you fucked me silly.” I poked him in the ribs. “If you were so worried, you should have checked before you put your dick in me.”

His fingers curled around my knee, his grip firm but not restraining. “I know you can.” His voice was softer now, lower. “But you don’t have to. And also,” His lips curved into a smirk. “It was you that put my dick in you…”

A laugh slipped from me before I could stop it, and his grin widened. But his touch didn’t move, his hand still warm and steady on my knee. I realized I didn’t want him to leave, so I got up and pressed a lingering kiss to his mouth. He responded by scooping me up and carrying me up the stairs.

I sat up straight in the bed and looked around. The curtains were still drawn, but sunlight was managing to break through at the bottom of them. My shoulders slumped as I ran my fingers through my wild hair.

After Dimitri had carried me up the stairs, he’d promised to stay but wouldn’t continue to take care of my body. He said I needed rest, but that was the last thing I wanted. I thought he would have come after me when the dress finally slipped from my body, but instead, he remained seated on my bed. His eyes had darkened and he fisted my sheets, but he didn’t move. Always a pillar of control.

So when he tucked me into his arms to sleep, there was absolutely none to be had from me. He’d slipped into a deep sleep within minutes, but I was a tangled-up mess in my head. My thoughts spun long after his breathing had slowed.

Every part of my body ached in the best way, but my mind? It was chaos. I’d never had someone not take what was being offered. Never had someone choose to just hold me when they clearly wanted more. That kind of restraint? That kind of care? It undid me.

He could have had me again—I desperately wanted him to—but he hadn’t. And that simple decision, that moment of gentleness, unraveled something deep in my chest I hadn’t realized was still wound so tightly.

Now, in the morning light, with my hair a mess and my skin still marked by his mouth, I didn’t know what came next. I looked over my shoulder to find the other side of the bed empty.

My stomach twisted. Panic flickered before I reminded myself: He said he’d stay. I reached for the soft blanket still tangled around my waist and pulled it tighter, heart pounding against my ribs as I stood and padded toward the hallway.

From what I could tell, it was silent in the rest of the house. I’d tried to seduce him by sleeping naked, but he had a will of steel. I went back toward my closet and pulled out an oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties. I ran to my bathroom to quickly scrub my teeth just in case he was still in my home.

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