Page 40 of Salvation

“Are you sure?” I asked, needing her absolute certainty. “We can wait. Until you’re healed. Until --”

“I don’t want to wait anymore,” she interrupted, a fierceness in her voice I rarely heard.

To emphasize her point, she guided one of my hands to her breast, her eyes closing briefly at the contact. The trust in that gesture -- after everything she’d been through, both recently and years ago -- humbled me.

“Tell me if anything hurts,” I insisted, carefully lowering her back onto the pillows. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” she whispered, reaching up to pull me down for another kiss.

I took my time, learning her body with a reverence that bordered on worship. Every touch, every kiss was measured, deliberate -- mindful of her injuries but determined to show her exactly how much I wanted her. Her bandaged wrists, her bruised ribs, the bruises along her skin -- I kissed each one with a tenderness I hadn’t known I possessed, as if I could erase the pain with nothing but my lips.

Yulia’s breathing quickened as my hands and mouth explored her body, small sounds escaping her that drove me to the edge of my control. When my fingers found the waistband of her sweatpants, her hips lifted in silent invitation.

“You’re beautiful,” I told her as I eased the fabric down her legs. “So fucking beautiful.”

A flush spread across her cheeks at my words, but she didn’t look away. Instead, her hands reached for me, tugging at my remaining clothes with growing urgency. “I need to feel you,” she said, her voice low and insistent. “All of you.”

We shed the last barriers between us, and I paused for a moment, taking in the sight of her beneath me -- my wife, finally, in every sense of the word. Her hair spilled across my pillow, her blue eyes dark with desire, her body marked by violence but still perfect to me. Mine to protect. Mine to cherish.

I reached between us, sliding my fingers along the lips of her pussy, feeling how wet she already was. Parting the lips, I teased her clit, using small, light strokes. She gasped and her eyes half-closed as she bit her lip. Watching the pleasure etched on her features made me harder than before. I eased a finger inside her, testing how tight she was. Yulia whimpered and reached for me, her nails biting into my arms, as if begging me not to stop.

I used my thumb to rub her clit as I thrust my finger, slowly, wanting to draw out her pleasure for as long as possible. I felt her get hotter. Wetter. And I knew it wouldn’t be long before she was coming. My heart thundered in my chest as I watched her, and when she came apart, crying out softly, my cock twitched and I knew I needed to be inside her. I kicked out of my jeans.

I was as gentle as I could be as I settled between her splayed thighs and pressed my cock against her pussy, slowly sinking into her. We both gasped at the sensation. Her fingers dug into my shoulders, her body arching toward mine despite her injuries. I moved slowly at first, watching her face for any sign of pain.

“Okay?” I managed to ask, fighting for control.

“More than okay,” she assured me, her legs wrapping around my hips to pull me deeper. “I’ve never felt anything so incredible in my life.”

We found our rhythm together, the rustle of sheets and our mingled breaths the only sounds in the room. My forehead pressed against hers, our gazes locked, nothing hidden between us anymore. Her hands traced paths of fire across my back, my shoulders, urging me on while I fought to maintain control, to keep my movements gentle despite the growing urgency I felt.

“You won’t break me,” she whispered against my ear, understanding my struggle. “I’m stronger than I look.”

Something snapped inside me at her words -- not my control, but the last of my hesitation. I kissed her deeply, my movements becoming more insistent, more demanding, though still mindful of her injuries. Her response was immediate, her body rising to meet mine, her soft cries of pleasure the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.

I watched her come apart in my arms, her eyes widening with surprise and pleasure, my name on her lips like a prayer. The sight of her -- uninhibited, trusting, mine -- pushed me over the edge moments later, my release hitting me with an intensity that left me shaking.

Afterward, we lay tangled together, her head on my chest, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on her shoulder. Her breath came in soft puffs against my skin, her body relaxed and warm against mine. Neither of us spoke immediately, content to exist in the afterglow of something that had been building for years.

“Are you okay?” I finally asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Your ribs?”

She smiled against my chest. “I’m perfect. Better than I’ve ever been.”

I tightened my arms around her, careful of her bruises but needing to hold her close. The simple pleasure of having her naked in my bed, of being able to touch her freely, to kiss her whenever I wanted -- it felt like a gift I’d never expected to receive.

“I can’t believe we waited so long,” I said, the regret evident in my voice despite the contentment flowing through me.

Yulia raised her head to look at me, her expression serious. “Perhaps we needed that time. For me to heal. For us to build trust. For Clover to grow up with stability. And for you to get over the loss of Clover’s mother.” She traced my jawline with one finger. I hadn’t shaved in a few days and her finger scraped over my whiskers. “Maybe we found each other exactly when we were meant to.”

I caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “When did you get so wise?”

“I’ve had a good teacher,” she said with a small smile. “A man who taught me patience, strength, loyalty. A man who showed me what love looks like, even when he couldn’t say the words.”

Something warm expanded in my chest, pushing against my ribs as if my heart had grown too large to contain. “I love you,” I said, the words coming easier now. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for all the times I should have said it but didn’t.”

“We have time,” she reminded me, settling back against my chest. “All the time in the world.”

I held her close as her breathing deepened toward sleep, marveling at how completely everything had changed. The woman in my arms was no longer just my wife on paper, no longer just Clover’s mother-figure, no longer just my roommate and friend. She was my partner in every sense -- the other half of something I hadn’t even realized was incomplete until now.

---