139
The scent of rosemary and lemon filled the villa as evening descended. Yalda stood by the dining table, lighting the last candle as the front door opened. Loki trotted past her enthusiastically, his tail flicking with familiarity as Ioannis stepped inside.
He looked tired, but the moment his eyes found her, something in his shoulders eased.
“You’re back,” she said softly, smoothing her hands down her cotton dress.
“Yes yes,” he replied.
She walked up to him, and Ioannis leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, his hand was warm as it rested on the small of her back.
“I missed you today,” he murmured. “Tell me about it. Your day, I mean.”
They sat together at the table, the soft light flickering between them. Yalda served the sesame bread rings, roasted vegetables, and chicken glazed with fig sauce.
“I helped Alina with a new recipe,” she said, watching him chew thoughtfully. “Koulouri. She says mine came out lopsided, but I think they taste good.”
Ioannis broke one apart with his fingers and tasted it. A small smile tugged at his lips.
“They taste like you,” he said. “Warm. Slightly sweet. Addicting.”
Yalda flushed and took a sip of wine to hide her smile. The meal passed in quiet conversation, nothing heavy, nothing intense. Just shared silences, gentle looks, a passing touch of hands.
Afterward, they lingered by the open terrace doors. The sea whispered beyond the glass, and Ioannis held his wine loosely in his hand as Yalda leaned against the doorway.
“You look lighter today,” he said after a moment.
She glanced at him. “A little. Alina talked to me. It helped.”
He stepped closer, reaching out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Good. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
Her gaze dropped, heat blooming in her chest.
“Yalda,” he said, lifting her chin gently so her eyes met his, “Dont cry yourself to sleep tonight."
“I wasnt going to,” she whispered.
He didn’t kiss her immediately. He watched her, as if waiting for any flicker of hesitation in her eyes. When he saw none, he took her hand and led her upstairs.
The bedroom was dimly lit by the bedside lamps. Ioannis sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for her hand again. His voice was low, coaxing.
“Come here.”
She stepped between his knees, standing while he looked up at her. His hands slid to the backs of her thighs, then up to her hips, pulling her slowly down into his lap. She straddled him gently, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his legs.
“Look at me,” he said.
Yalda’s hands found his shoulders, her chest rising and falling with breath. His palms slid over her thighs, her waist, up her back, his touch was slow, reverent. He moved as if he were memorizing her again.
Their lips brushed once, and then twice before deepening. His mouth moved with restrained hunger, all the more powerful for the way he held back. Her hands tangled in his hair, nails grazing his nape as she pressed closer, breath mingling with his.
He reached for the hem of her dress and slowly pulled it over her head, leaving her bare in the warm glow of the lamps. His eyes traveled over her, not with lust, but with appreciation. His hands found her hips again and guided her closer.
“You're beautiful when you’re sad,” he whispered. “But you’re devastating like this.”
Yalda flushed, her hands sliding under his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin. He helped her pull it off, then reached to unhook her bra slowly, fingers brushing her sides. She gasped softly at the sensation.
“Keep looking at me,” he murmured again. “Don’t look away.”
He leaned back just enough to watch her as he guided her down against him, her bare chest flush to his. Their mouths met again, slower this time, fuller. His fingers tangled with hers, bringing their joined hands to rest beside her head on the pillow.
The room filled with quiet breaths, faint groans, and the soft creak of the mattress as Ioannis moved them gently down. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, the curve of her breast in a slow and sensual worship. Each touch deliberate.
Yalda arched into him as he entered her slowly, deeply, his hand was firm on her lower back, anchoring her to him. Her breath hitched, and he kissed her again, groaning into her mouth.
“Eyes on me,” he whispered, brushing his thumb under her eye.
She did. She kept looking.
Their bodies moved together slowly, no rush, just the rawness of being seen and touched in this kind of silence. Ioannis held her close, his hands stroking her back, her thighs, her hair. His other hand remained locked with hers, fingers tightly woven.
Tears brimmed in her eyes as the emotion swelled unexpectedly.
He saw them immediately.
He let go of her hand just long enough to brush his thumb across her cheek, catching one tear as it slipped down. Then again, when another followed.
“I’ve got you,” he said softly, his voice shaking with restraint. “Let go.”
She did.
Her body trembled around him, soft cries leaving her throat as he moved deeper, slower, his lips pressed to her temple, her jaw, her cheek.
“You’re not alone, Yalda. Not ever again,” he whispered, between thrusts and kisses. “Let me have it all. Even the ache. I’ll carry it.”
Their foreheads pressed together. He held her face in both hands, still inside her, still moving as though time had no meaning. Her tears came again, this time quieter. He kissed them away, every single one, without a word of judgment.
When she began to unravel he slowed her, grounding her with his hands, guiding her back to him.
“Stay with me,” he murmured. “Come with me.”
She cried out softly as pleasure bloomed in her chest and spine, hot and burning. Ioannis followed right after, groaning against her throat, clutching her hips, still joined, still breathing her in.
Afterward, he wrapped his arms tightly around her and lay back with her against his chest. He didn’t say anything right away, he just held her, letting the quiet wrap around them again.
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