Dima worships the most insignificant parts of me as his orgasm takes him. I’ve never felt so cherished in all my life.
After we clean up and crawl back in bed, I’m beginning to doze when I feel Dima’s body curl against mine.
“I am,” I say, my voice so soft I’m not even sure I’ve spoken.
“Good.” He breathes against my neck, and I’m confused what he means until I feel him. Pressed against my lower back.
Still on my side, I hook my leg back and over his hip and let him enter me from behind. It’s slow, easy s*x, but by the end of it, his hand is between my legs, and I’m muffling my screams with my pillow.
“Because I’m not finished yet.”
I sleep for a while, but after a few hours, closing my eyes feels like a practice in futility.
I can’t sleep when I don’t know where Lukas is. Or June.
