him.
"I love you," he confessed again as he made love to her. "I love you too," Royal whispered softly.
Chapter 7
The night air swept in through the open window and flirted with the soft curtains floating in its breeze. The soiled comforter had been placed by the door for Dmitry to discard in the morning, and their sweaty sheets lay in a pile by the bed on the floor. Exhausted, Royal lay beside Dmitry quietly watching the fan circle above her while Dmitry ran his large hands through her hair. Neither one of them had said anything for nearly an hour. There was a peace between them now that their bodies had done battle.
Royal was in awe of Dmitry's skill in lovemaking, and Dmitry was awe that he finally had her. It had not been an easy task for him. No woman had ever made him wait more than a week before being intimate. Royal had finally broken three months into their pseudo-courtship, but it had taken much coercion. The deliberate wining and dining and thousands and thousands of dollars in gifts had been the easy part, developing trust had been the key. Royal required trust. It was a staple in their friendship. He laughed a little as he thought about her and then glanced over at her long body still glistening with sweat. Who was he kidding? The wait had been well worth it.
Every once in a while, Royal would take her eyes off the fan and look over at Dmitry. To see him naked was quite amazing. While he looked absolutely devastating in clothes, he was even more lethal in nothing at all. As normal, his body was relaxed, maybe even lazy. His long limbs completely covered his side of the bed. The intricate muscles and tattoos danced over his tanned skin in harmony. And while Royal had never seen him workout, she was certain that he had to do so often. His body was a testament to a dedicated weight-lifting regiment.
"What are you thinking about?" Dmitry asked, propping himself up on one arm to face her. His bicep bulged.
Royal smiled. "I'm thinking that I couldn't have picked a better man," she said, nearly hoarse. "I was sort of scared about that at first... I mean, to wait so long and pick the wrong person. That would suck."
Dmitry lifted his brow.
"But I didn't," she assured him.
He ran his finger down the side of her nude frame and sighed. He was horny again—aching to be inside of her one more time.
"I'm sure that you could've picked someone. anyone better, but I would not have been happy about it," he said, pulling her closer to his large chest.
She nuzzled into him comfortably.
"Change of subject." Royal said, abruptly. She looked up into his eyes. "What do the tattoos mean, man?" She had been waiting since he disrobed to get an answer.
"Well, each of them means something different. Pick one, and I'll tell you."
"What do the stars mean?"
Dmitry rubbed his hand across his chest. "It means that I'm apart of very elite organization. In my country, it takes a lot to get these stars across your chest. The ones on my knees mean I kneel before no man."
"What about a woman?" she snickered suggestively. "You kneeled before me."
"What I do in the bedroom does not count. And if I recall, you kneeled before me as well." His eyes glimmered. He was rock hard again.
Royal nodded. "Point well taken. What does the Madonna mean?"
"That I've been a thief since I was child, and the crucifix means that I've mastered the art of thievery."
Royal smirked. "Dmitry, you don't steal."
"Oh, I used to. Now, I just take what I want."
"And the beautiful butterfly?" She traced her finger around the wings.
"That I can maneuver very easily in many complicated situations."
"Maneuver? "
"It's how I got out of prison as young man."
"I don't even want to know," she said, laughing.
"Enough
"I love you," he confessed again as he made love to her. "I love you too," Royal whispered softly.
Chapter 7
The night air swept in through the open window and flirted with the soft curtains floating in its breeze. The soiled comforter had been placed by the door for Dmitry to discard in the morning, and their sweaty sheets lay in a pile by the bed on the floor. Exhausted, Royal lay beside Dmitry quietly watching the fan circle above her while Dmitry ran his large hands through her hair. Neither one of them had said anything for nearly an hour. There was a peace between them now that their bodies had done battle.
Royal was in awe of Dmitry's skill in lovemaking, and Dmitry was awe that he finally had her. It had not been an easy task for him. No woman had ever made him wait more than a week before being intimate. Royal had finally broken three months into their pseudo-courtship, but it had taken much coercion. The deliberate wining and dining and thousands and thousands of dollars in gifts had been the easy part, developing trust had been the key. Royal required trust. It was a staple in their friendship. He laughed a little as he thought about her and then glanced over at her long body still glistening with sweat. Who was he kidding? The wait had been well worth it.
Every once in a while, Royal would take her eyes off the fan and look over at Dmitry. To see him naked was quite amazing. While he looked absolutely devastating in clothes, he was even more lethal in nothing at all. As normal, his body was relaxed, maybe even lazy. His long limbs completely covered his side of the bed. The intricate muscles and tattoos danced over his tanned skin in harmony. And while Royal had never seen him workout, she was certain that he had to do so often. His body was a testament to a dedicated weight-lifting regiment.
"What are you thinking about?" Dmitry asked, propping himself up on one arm to face her. His bicep bulged.
Royal smiled. "I'm thinking that I couldn't have picked a better man," she said, nearly hoarse. "I was sort of scared about that at first... I mean, to wait so long and pick the wrong person. That would suck."
Dmitry lifted his brow.
"But I didn't," she assured him.
He ran his finger down the side of her nude frame and sighed. He was horny again—aching to be inside of her one more time.
"I'm sure that you could've picked someone. anyone better, but I would not have been happy about it," he said, pulling her closer to his large chest.
She nuzzled into him comfortably.
"Change of subject." Royal said, abruptly. She looked up into his eyes. "What do the tattoos mean, man?" She had been waiting since he disrobed to get an answer.
"Well, each of them means something different. Pick one, and I'll tell you."
"What do the stars mean?"
Dmitry rubbed his hand across his chest. "It means that I'm apart of very elite organization. In my country, it takes a lot to get these stars across your chest. The ones on my knees mean I kneel before no man."
"What about a woman?" she snickered suggestively. "You kneeled before me."
"What I do in the bedroom does not count. And if I recall, you kneeled before me as well." His eyes glimmered. He was rock hard again.
Royal nodded. "Point well taken. What does the Madonna mean?"
"That I've been a thief since I was child, and the crucifix means that I've mastered the art of thievery."
Royal smirked. "Dmitry, you don't steal."
"Oh, I used to. Now, I just take what I want."
"And the beautiful butterfly?" She traced her finger around the wings.
"That I can maneuver very easily in many complicated situations."
"Maneuver? "
"It's how I got out of prison as young man."
"I don't even want to know," she said, laughing.
"Enough
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