Book 2 Chapter 7
The battle within Yalda had been fierce, it was a struggle between the ghost of her past and the agonizing pain of her present. She'd finally made a decision after what seemed like hours of deliberation. Ioannis hadn't rushed her decision, he had been patient with her, he had held her comfortingly, giving her enough time to think and decide.
She wanted to be saved from her mind, she wanted to feel anything other than the suffocating weight of grief and guilt. She wanted a reprieve. Ioannis had a way of making her mind blank, he had a way of making every thought go away, and she wanted that so badly.
She nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly.
At that momy, Ioannis’s control broke just slightly. He didn't erupt in passion like he wanted so badly, rather, he moved with the reverence of a man who had just been granted access to something sacred.
His mouth found hers instantly in a deep, consuming kiss. It was a torrent of pent-up need. At first, Yalda stiffened. Over the past few months, she'd forgotten what it was like to have another man touch her, but her body remembered him so very quickly and she eased up.
She met his kiss with a desperate urgency, her hands clutching the front of his shirt like it was a lifeline. For the first time in a long time, Yalda felt a current of energy run through her, something hot and undeniable, it was overriding everything else.
He broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look at her, his gaze lingered on her face as he gauged her reaction, and when he was sure she wasn't breaking down, his lips trailed down. His mouth was tender on the curve of her neck, it lingered where her pulse hammered frantically.
He kissed her shoulders, pushing the soft silk of her blouse aside, tracing the delicate ridges of her collarbone. He'd missed her, he'd missed her smell, her warmth, he'd missed how she'd surrender everything she was to him, how she trusted him with her body, mind, and heart.
His large hands slipped from her face, tracing the small of her back before finding her waist. He massaged her fervently, not just in arousal, but as if kneading the tension out of her muscles, and she needed it so badly.
Without breaking the flow of sensation, Ioannis lifted her. Yalda instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms anchoring around his neck. He carried her across the room toward the bed, he lowered her gently onto it, then climbed above her, his weight grounded her.
He kissed her again, more deeply now, more intensely, his tongue tangled with hers in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. She moaned quietly against his lips. It was the sound of her body remembering pleasure after months of suffocating and consuming grief.
He knew the precise spot on her inner thigh that would make her breath hitch; he knew the exact curve of her spine she liked to have pressed; he knew the rhythm that would pull her from the dead weight of her sorrow and into the vibrant focus of her body, and he did everything he knew she enjoyed.
Her clothes became irritating all too quickly, he tossed them impatiently onto the floor and shrugged off his shirt so skin met skin, the intoxicating friction had Yalda moaning throatily.
Ioannis moved above her, his hands explored her body as he memorized the slight changes; her abdomen was fuller now, her waist thicker, buy everything else was thinner and it ached his soul.
He focused on drawing her out of her mind and into the absolute present moment. He pleasured her till she was writhing and arching beneath him, entirely lost in the sensation he was creating.
She was getting close to reaching an orgasm, his lips had latched onto her nipple and he was kissing and sucking on it, pushing her towards the edge so quickly. Her fingers dug into his hair and curled into his silky locks as her toes curled and she moaned breathlessly.
He held her gaze, the heat of his body was overwhelming. But he released her nipple and she almost cried, she didn't want him to.
"Ioannis." She croaked. "Please don't stop."
"Listen to me, Yalda." He hushed her.
She hung on his words like her life depended on it, like it was therapy.
"I love you." He told her.
He didn’t wait for a response, he didn’t need one. He began to kiss the sweat on her temple, the corner of her trembling mouth, his hands continuing the urgent work on her body.
"Breathe. Just breathe for me." He said.
And she did. She drew a deep, shuddering breath, filling her lungs with the scent of him.
"Feel everything, okay?"
She nodded immediately.
He settled between her legs, his hands spreading her open. He looked up at her, his eyes were completely dark with desire.
"You are so beautiful, Yalda," he whispered.
Then he leaned in, his face disappeared between her thighs and he licked her pussy. She cried out, her hands fisted the sheets tightly. He licked and sucked, his tongue explored every inch of her.
Yalda could feel the pleasure building again, her body tensed. Ioannis slid a finger inside her, his thumb rubbed her clit. She moaned, her hips bucked against his hand. He added another finger, his pace slow and steady. She could feel the pleasure growing, her body was on the edge.
"Ioannis," she gasped, her body was trembling badly. He looked up at her, his eyes locking with hers.
"Come for me, Yalda," he said. His fingers curled inside her, his thumb rubbed her clit in quick circles and that did it. She came with a scream, her body convulsed and her pussy clenched around his fingers.
Ioannis watched her ride out her orgasm, his cock was hard and aching but he controlled himself, he forced his desires aside. He crawled up her body, his lips captured hers in a passionate kiss. She could taste herself on him, the taste was sweet and heady.
He kissed her forehead gently, possessively.
"It's over now, agápi mou," he murmured. "It is finished. Sleep."
Her brain was back to being programmed to listen to him, and her eyes fluttered close and she drifted immediately into the deepest, most profound sleep she had known in months.
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