Soldier Mine (Sons of War #2)(49)
The room is subtly luxurious and completely masculine, like the plain looking sheets I suspect are expensive and the bed that’s more comfortable than any I’ve ever slept in.
Pushing myself up, I groan softly at the stiffness and soreness of my body. I’ve never had a night like last night. A smile spreads across my face as I consider how intense Petr’s felt for me for some time to consume me in his fire the way he did.
I cross to the restroom and scrounge around for a new toothbrush. Cleaning up, I stop in front of the shower with its stone walls, glass enclosure and the rain shower ceiling. It’s not just a showerhead but a space about three feet by three feet filled with holes for water.
I’ve never seen anything like it, but I immediately suspect I’ll never want to shower elsewhere. It’s controlled digitally by a panel outside the enclosure. I poke at the buttons until the stream comes on and stand back, amazed. The temperature is set to a hundred and two. I hesitate to change Petr’s setting, knowing how much I dislike it when Todd changes settings on my phone or anything else.
“Well, it’s on, Claudia,” I murmur and then grin. Opening the door, I walk in – and almost melt. The gentle streams of water are heavenly, the shower floors heated and Petr’s woodsy scent everywhere.
Sighing, I close my eyes and lean my head back, letting the hot water wash over me.
“You, uh, want company?” Petr calls a short time later.
I smile, my whole world brightening once more at his deep voice. “Depends on who’s asking.”
He laughs. “I’m equally happy watching you.”
My body flushes with warmth from the tips of my ears to the tips of my breasts. I open my eyes and see him leaning against the counter, shirt off and sweatpants on, his incredibly sexy frame relaxed. He’s smiling. His tender, amused expression leaves me rattled once more, even after our long night together.
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the way he looks at me, through me, as if we’ve known each other our entire lives instead of meeting two months ago.
I went from a nightmare to a fairytale. Overwhelmed by what that ultimately means for my future, I nonetheless know I’m exactly where I want to be with the man I want to be with.
“Are you coming in?” I ask playfully.
“Absolutely.”
I wait anxiously, exhilaration racing through me. There’s nothing in this world that compares to his touch. Gentle yet firm, he has a way of making me feel both empowered and safe enough to be vulnerable.
Petr opens the shower door and slides in. He’s wearing a black sleeve over his prosthetic leg. His hands find me immediately and slide over my wet skin. He’s the most affection man I’ve ever known. I never thought twice about a man who loves to touch me, but one night with him has convinced me I don’t ever want his hands elsewhere when we’re together.
He nudges me until my back is to him and wraps his arms around me, hugging me into his body. Resting his head on my shoulder, he kisses my neck. His solid strength awes me, and I trace my hands down the thick biceps and roped forearms holding me against him. His hard erection is pressed to my bottom, and the combination of his strength and apparent arousal cause the hollow between my legs to ache for him again already.
“How you doing?” he whispers. “No regrets?”
“Never with you,” I reply and rest my head against his shoulder. “You?”
“Nope.”
“Well … I do have one regret,” I add. “I didn’t get you anything for Christmas.”
“You’re the best Christmas present ever.”
I smile and close my eyes, relishing the sensations of his warm frame, strength, and the grizzled jaw tickling my neck. This is perfect. Being in his arms makes me wonder why I’ve settled for being anywhere else my entire life.
One of his palms shifts down my abdomen. “Or … we could give each other a special shower present,” he says huskily. “Start the day out right.”
“I’m game,” I say breathlessly, already yearning for him. I relax against him completely, unable to recall the last time I was able to trust someone enough to close my eyes and simply exist … share a space with them.
His hand rests over my *, and my breath catches. I wait with heady anticipation for the touch I know is coming. Kisses spread down the side of my neck and shoulder. His finger slips between my nether lips to graze my clit, and I reach back to touch his face.
Twisting my head to kiss him, I almost moan when his fingers dip inside me then out, traveling the path between my core and my clit slowly before he begins swirling around the hard nub.
“Too heavy? Too light? Just right?” he whispers against my mouth.
“Perfect. Just don’t stop,” I reply and kiss him again. He keeps me trapped with my back to him while fingering me and toying with my clit. The sensations grow stronger as my orgasm builds quickly, and my inner thighs begin to shake. I grip his forearm, afraid of falling when I lose myself to the pleasure.
“I got ya,” he murmurs. “Remember? I’ll catch you when you fall.”
I nod, unable to muster a response. The tempo and pressure of his strokes varies, pushing me closer without letting me come quiet yet, and I stop thinking about whether or not he really can catch me and instead, dwell in the exquisite sensations.