I N B O X

[reznikolai]

@volkvolny NIKOLAI LANTSOV

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[reznikolai]

[No, she says, and Nikolai pauses, heart sinking into his stomach, shame rising up. But then she rolls against him, taking his touch for her own, and — actions speaking louder than words — he resumes petting her. Please, she says, and he listens. Through the tether, stronger now than it has been for a long time, he can feel her ache as if it's his own. And it is. It is.]

Saints, I want you. [A plea breathed against her breast as he drinks of her.] I want...

[Again his fingers trace the flatness of her belly, the dribbling trails of spilled milk, and his voice cracks. The rest of the sentence is lost. Tears threaten at the corners of his eyes. Cupping her ass in two handfuls, he pulls her against him, replacing the pulse of his fingers with the grind of his cock. His breath trembles out of him, bends into a moan.

As he tugs off her underwear and pulls out his cock, as the soft slick give of her surrounds him, and they sink into each other as they have a hundred times before, that's when he feels the hot wet of tears roll down his cheeks. He wants to be strong for her, but maybe it's just as important to be weak with her.]

[solmate]

Ah— ah.

[ Alina squeezes the back of his neck to steady herself as Nikolai pushes into her. She's tight, not painfully so, but she welcomes the blunt head of his cock inside of her far less frequently now. This is not the long sessions of their lovemaking where he made her cry out his name from just his fingers and his tongue multiple times over.

And still she wouldn't change it. This is what she needs. She needs him, messy and unplanned. Perfectly imperfect in its honesty. ]

I want— [ She chokes on the words. She can't hold it back now. She can't afford to lie to him. Or to herself. ] I want it too.

[ She grasps the back of his hand, pulling it back to the flat of her stomach as she begins to rock against him. ]

Can we pretend? [ She whispers it, her mouth against his temple, her hips bumping in small hitches. ] Just... just for one night.

[reznikolai]

[It's artless, the way he makes love to her tonight. Each movement, wrought from raw need. His body misses hers. His heart misses hers, at a level that cannot be communicated through words.]

Oh, love...

[That word that's gotten him in so much trouble. Nikolai doesn't mean to say it. It happens as naturally as the thump of his heart as she rocks in his lap and accepts him inside of herself. Behind this soft, sad exhalation lies so much that, for all the skill of his silver tongue, he doesn't know how to say. Isn't that how they got here? Pretending for just one night. Living in a daydream, drunk on the honey aroma of glowing blooms.

His tacit agreement is in the way he squeezes her in his arms. The way he loses himself in worshipping her breasts, kissing prayers in circles all around her rosy nipples. In the rhythm of their bodies, breath and flesh keeping time, things slide back into place. He teases like he used to, about her eagerness, about the fullness of her breasts, the sweetness of her milk. Forgetting himself, losing the shape of reality in the hazy heat of passion, he comments:]

Are you sure there will be enough for—?

[The end of the question sags. There is no baby. No little Dominik. He distracts both of them with a kiss, melding their mouths together before Alina can react.]