[ He doesn't need to be so tender with her. He doesn't need to be so gentle and giving, and yet he is. He always is in a way that she isn't sure she can ever repay. He scoops her into his arms, effortless to carry her across the room, marvels at her when he lays her on her bed. She can't stop herself from curling into his touch. It is more than just the warmth of another body, but something much deeper. He could help her and be more distant. He could use his hands in distant clinical motions.
Instead he plays out the life they won't have. The one where he carries her as a bride across a threshold, the one where oil lamps and starlight fill their room. The one where she calls him that, sleepily murmuring Kolya? from a cocoon of luxurious blankets as he soothes a fussy Dominik against his bare chest.
She gasps, as his mouth and hand circle her nipple. She's always been sensitive, but it's amplified now. She has to stop herself from jerking forward into him and hold back the whimper that's caught on her tongue. ]
No one else calls you that, do they? [ She whispers. They'd have no reason to, and she finds herself protective of the name, like it should only be theirs. her hands mapping the warm expanse of his back. First with trepidation, and then steadier as she remembers the paths she's learned. ]
Gentle, gentle Kolya— [ She warns beneath her breath, although for no reason. He is being gentle, his touch soft and light. She almost wants more. ] They're so sensitive, Papochka.
no subject
Instead he plays out the life they won't have. The one where he carries her as a bride across a threshold, the one where oil lamps and starlight fill their room. The one where she calls him that, sleepily murmuring Kolya? from a cocoon of luxurious blankets as he soothes a fussy Dominik against his bare chest.
She gasps, as his mouth and hand circle her nipple. She's always been sensitive, but it's amplified now. She has to stop herself from jerking forward into him and hold back the whimper that's caught on her tongue. ]
No one else calls you that, do they? [ She whispers. They'd have no reason to, and she finds herself protective of the name, like it should only be theirs. her hands mapping the warm expanse of his back. First with trepidation, and then steadier as she remembers the paths she's learned. ]
Gentle, gentle Kolya— [ She warns beneath her breath, although for no reason. He is being gentle, his touch soft and light. She almost wants more. ] They're so sensitive, Papochka.