Page 45 of Tattooed Heart

“I still do.”

The intensity of his gaze makes my breath hitch. Even after everything we have been through, our connection remains unbroken. If anything, it has grown stronger, tempered by our trials.

“And what is it you want, Dimitri Popov?” I breathe.

His answer is to pull me into his arms, his mouth finding mine with unerring precision. The kiss is deliberately slow, thoroughly exploring as if he has all the time in the world to taste me.

When he finally pulls back, his eyes are dark with desire. “I want everything. You. Our child. A future.” His hand moves to my stomach, protective and possessive at once. “And I want to spend the rest of the day reminding you exactly why you fell in love with me in the first place.”

“As if I could forget,” I murmur, arching into his touch as his hands begin a torturously slow exploration of my body.

He takes his time, relearning the map of my skin and discovering how pregnancy has changed me. His attention to every detail makes me feel cherished, desired, and beautiful despite the changes that sometimes make me feel like a stranger in my own body.

When he finally slides his thick cock inside me, the sensation is overwhelming. Not just physically but emotionally. Tears sting my eyes as he moves within me, his gaze never leaving mine. It feels like coming home, like finding the missing piece of myself that was torn away when they took him.

“I love you, Sandy,” he whispers against my lips as we move together.

“I love you, too,” I gasp, holding him tighter as the friction builds between us. “Always.”

He keeps up a steady pace, and I quickly shatter around him.

Afterward, we lay tangled together, my head on his chest, his hand idly stroking my hair. Birds sing in the trees surrounding the mansion grounds, and a gentle breeze stirs the curtains.

“What are you thinking?” Dimitri asks, his voice rumbling under my ear.

I trace one of his tattoos with my fingertip. “About names for the baby.”

I feel him smile. “Any ideas?”

“If it's a girl, I was thinking Natalia,” I say softly. “After your mother.”

His body goes still beneath me. When he speaks, his voice is rough with emotion. “You would do that?”

I lift my head to look at him. “Of course. She's part of you, part of our baby's heritage. Talia told me she was brave and kind. That she loved fiercely.”

His eyes shimmer with feeling. “She would have loved you,” he says quietly.

I lay my head back on his chest.

“And if it's a boy?” he asks after a moment.

I smile against his skin. “I was hoping you might have ideas.”

He is quiet for so long that I think he might not answer. Then, “Mikhail,” he says, “for my brother.”

“Mikhail,” I repeat, letting the name settle on my tongue. “I like it. It feels right. The perfect way to honor him. But do you think Sasha and Maxim will be okay with it?”

Their father was taken from them just over a year ago, murdered by the same psychopath who tried to kill Talia. I don’t want the baby’s name to be a constant reminder of what they lost.

Dimitri doesn’t pause. “I think they’ll be more than okay with it. A new life carrying Mikhail’s name... It’s a way to remember him with hope instead of grief.”

His hand moves to my stomach, and the baby kicks against his palm as if on cue. Dimitri's sharp intake of breath makes me smile.

“I think someone approves,” I grin.

“Strong,” he murmurs, his voice filled with pride. “Like their mother.”

I tilt my head to look at him. “And their father.”

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