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Courage. She hated that she would need it for tonight, but Olena was painfully aware of just how much of a risk this could be. She’d been completely sober a few weeks, but the pull of opium lingered in the back of her mind. It was what had given her the ability to do what she’d done with other men. But this wasn’t any man-- this was Dima. This was the man she had been trying to forget for the last decade.
Now, he was here, damaged and wanting her. And that scared her to pieces.
What if she wasn’t good enough? Or wasn’t able to meet his expectations? She didn’t want to let him down by saying no, but she didn’t know how much she could do. Diving in head first seemed dangerous, likely to cause her to run to the drugs faster than taking it slow. But how could she just lie next to him and not want him. Just because she hated being a whore didn’t mean that she didn’t find some pleasure in the act. But it had been so long since she had felt connected to her own desires.
What did she want?
Him.
That was an easy one to answer.
Was she ready?
Probably not.
Would she ever be?
Who knew.
Her offer of space had been for both their benefit, unsure if she could handle the rejection of him touching her, only to pull back in disgust. Olena knew that a rejection from him, at this point, would stick with her longer than anything else. But his desire to hold her, spoken so frankly, brought a blush to her cheeks. “I…” She wanted to be coy, to say something witty that would make him laugh. But the most she could do was nod. “Alright. I would like that very much.” Perhaps, in time, she would stop being so timid, so scared of her own words and their shadow. “I am sure sleep will come easier in your arms.” She was sure her blush covered every inch of her body.
“Like it did in our meadow.” She hated remembering home, because the ache that came with those thoughts was only numbed by drugs. But with him here, it didn’t seem so bad to pull up the buried happiness that they had lost so long ago. “I must confessed, I have not been able to go near the sound of running water, in fear of conjuring up the memories of that day.”
He would know what day she meant.
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Courage. She hated that she would need it for tonight, but Olena was painfully aware of just how much of a risk this could be. She’d been completely sober a few weeks, but the pull of opium lingered in the back of her mind. It was what had given her the ability to do what she’d done with other men. But this wasn’t any man-- this was Dima. This was the man she had been trying to forget for the last decade.
Now, he was here, damaged and wanting her. And that scared her to pieces.
What if she wasn’t good enough? Or wasn’t able to meet his expectations? She didn’t want to let him down by saying no, but she didn’t know how much she could do. Diving in head first seemed dangerous, likely to cause her to run to the drugs faster than taking it slow. But how could she just lie next to him and not want him. Just because she hated being a whore didn’t mean that she didn’t find some pleasure in the act. But it had been so long since she had felt connected to her own desires.
What did she want?
Him.
That was an easy one to answer.
Was she ready?
Probably not.
Would she ever be?
Who knew.
Her offer of space had been for both their benefit, unsure if she could handle the rejection of him touching her, only to pull back in disgust. Olena knew that a rejection from him, at this point, would stick with her longer than anything else. But his desire to hold her, spoken so frankly, brought a blush to her cheeks. “I…” She wanted to be coy, to say something witty that would make him laugh. But the most she could do was nod. “Alright. I would like that very much.” Perhaps, in time, she would stop being so timid, so scared of her own words and their shadow. “I am sure sleep will come easier in your arms.” She was sure her blush covered every inch of her body.
“Like it did in our meadow.” She hated remembering home, because the ache that came with those thoughts was only numbed by drugs. But with him here, it didn’t seem so bad to pull up the buried happiness that they had lost so long ago. “I must confessed, I have not been able to go near the sound of running water, in fear of conjuring up the memories of that day.”
He would know what day she meant.
Courage. She hated that she would need it for tonight, but Olena was painfully aware of just how much of a risk this could be. She’d been completely sober a few weeks, but the pull of opium lingered in the back of her mind. It was what had given her the ability to do what she’d done with other men. But this wasn’t any man-- this was Dima. This was the man she had been trying to forget for the last decade.
Now, he was here, damaged and wanting her. And that scared her to pieces.
What if she wasn’t good enough? Or wasn’t able to meet his expectations? She didn’t want to let him down by saying no, but she didn’t know how much she could do. Diving in head first seemed dangerous, likely to cause her to run to the drugs faster than taking it slow. But how could she just lie next to him and not want him. Just because she hated being a whore didn’t mean that she didn’t find some pleasure in the act. But it had been so long since she had felt connected to her own desires.
What did she want?
Him.
That was an easy one to answer.
Was she ready?
Probably not.
Would she ever be?
Who knew.
Her offer of space had been for both their benefit, unsure if she could handle the rejection of him touching her, only to pull back in disgust. Olena knew that a rejection from him, at this point, would stick with her longer than anything else. But his desire to hold her, spoken so frankly, brought a blush to her cheeks. “I…” She wanted to be coy, to say something witty that would make him laugh. But the most she could do was nod. “Alright. I would like that very much.” Perhaps, in time, she would stop being so timid, so scared of her own words and their shadow. “I am sure sleep will come easier in your arms.” She was sure her blush covered every inch of her body.
“Like it did in our meadow.” She hated remembering home, because the ache that came with those thoughts was only numbed by drugs. But with him here, it didn’t seem so bad to pull up the buried happiness that they had lost so long ago. “I must confessed, I have not been able to go near the sound of running water, in fear of conjuring up the memories of that day.”
He would know what day she meant.
The war within her was similar to the one he was battling for himself. Years had passed between them and he had kept searching for her, hoping to find her well and whole, hoping against hope that he would find her happily married to someone else with a brood of children. Then at least he could find peace. The way she was now was bad, but there was always the knowledge that for both of them, it could have been far worse. At least now they were together.
Her agreement brought a slight smile to his lips, and he settled on the bed for the night, laying back and giving her space, but reaching out a hand in her direction. It was an offer for her to come close, curl up against him as she had so many times before when they would sneak out to gaze at stars, or napped in the meadows of home on the break between harvests. As if she could read his thoughts she mentioned the river and though he was far from the innocent boy he had been then he felt a heat light up his cheeks. The memory of their fumbling first touches had never left his mind.
"I always thought I might find you by a river, hanging laundry and singing like you used to. That was my dream."
Laying there beside her with her eyes fully capable of taking in every scar and bruise and scratch he had on him, he felt vulnerable and uncertain. He considered pulling his chiton back over his head to give them more barrier between them, but the heat of her skin on his was too tempting a thought to give in to his fear. His fingertips brushed against her knee, nothing too suggestive, just a gentle touch to remind her that he was not in any way repulsed as she seemed so afraid he might be.
"Now, my dream is to be by your side. Whatever happens. And to get a good night's rest for once."
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The war within her was similar to the one he was battling for himself. Years had passed between them and he had kept searching for her, hoping to find her well and whole, hoping against hope that he would find her happily married to someone else with a brood of children. Then at least he could find peace. The way she was now was bad, but there was always the knowledge that for both of them, it could have been far worse. At least now they were together.
Her agreement brought a slight smile to his lips, and he settled on the bed for the night, laying back and giving her space, but reaching out a hand in her direction. It was an offer for her to come close, curl up against him as she had so many times before when they would sneak out to gaze at stars, or napped in the meadows of home on the break between harvests. As if she could read his thoughts she mentioned the river and though he was far from the innocent boy he had been then he felt a heat light up his cheeks. The memory of their fumbling first touches had never left his mind.
"I always thought I might find you by a river, hanging laundry and singing like you used to. That was my dream."
Laying there beside her with her eyes fully capable of taking in every scar and bruise and scratch he had on him, he felt vulnerable and uncertain. He considered pulling his chiton back over his head to give them more barrier between them, but the heat of her skin on his was too tempting a thought to give in to his fear. His fingertips brushed against her knee, nothing too suggestive, just a gentle touch to remind her that he was not in any way repulsed as she seemed so afraid he might be.
"Now, my dream is to be by your side. Whatever happens. And to get a good night's rest for once."
The war within her was similar to the one he was battling for himself. Years had passed between them and he had kept searching for her, hoping to find her well and whole, hoping against hope that he would find her happily married to someone else with a brood of children. Then at least he could find peace. The way she was now was bad, but there was always the knowledge that for both of them, it could have been far worse. At least now they were together.
Her agreement brought a slight smile to his lips, and he settled on the bed for the night, laying back and giving her space, but reaching out a hand in her direction. It was an offer for her to come close, curl up against him as she had so many times before when they would sneak out to gaze at stars, or napped in the meadows of home on the break between harvests. As if she could read his thoughts she mentioned the river and though he was far from the innocent boy he had been then he felt a heat light up his cheeks. The memory of their fumbling first touches had never left his mind.
"I always thought I might find you by a river, hanging laundry and singing like you used to. That was my dream."
Laying there beside her with her eyes fully capable of taking in every scar and bruise and scratch he had on him, he felt vulnerable and uncertain. He considered pulling his chiton back over his head to give them more barrier between them, but the heat of her skin on his was too tempting a thought to give in to his fear. His fingertips brushed against her knee, nothing too suggestive, just a gentle touch to remind her that he was not in any way repulsed as she seemed so afraid he might be.
"Now, my dream is to be by your side. Whatever happens. And to get a good night's rest for once."
As much as his touch tried for innocence, it didn’t help but make her settle. She had forgotten the feel of his skin, but the memory of their first time in a field of wildflowers came rushing back to her. She could almost smell the fresh water in their small room, could almost picture the grass beneath them.
His invitation was met with only a moment of hesitation before she moved into him. Even though they had both grown, and changed, she still seemed to fit perfectly against him. The initial racing of her heart slowed as she got used to the heat of him. “I have not had pleasant dreams in a long time.” She said honestly, turning so that she was facing him.
Her hands were tentative as she began to trace the lines of his scars. Not wanting to scare him away, or push him to leave, Olena traced the few from childhood that she was familiar with. The one on his shoulder from when she pushed him out of a tree. The one under his chin, not remember the origin, was old and well healed. He barely seemed to breath as her hands tried to rebuild lost memories.
She was slow to find the new ones, rougher around the edges, red under the fading light. Her hand lingered over one that still looked fresh, but she didn’t question how he got it. Instead, she let her eyes meet his, her smile finally reaching her eyes. “I keep thinking you will disappear, and I will wake up and it will have been a dream.” She moves her hand to his cheek, pressing her forehead to hers. “Say we will never be parted. If you say it, I will believe it.”
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As much as his touch tried for innocence, it didn’t help but make her settle. She had forgotten the feel of his skin, but the memory of their first time in a field of wildflowers came rushing back to her. She could almost smell the fresh water in their small room, could almost picture the grass beneath them.
His invitation was met with only a moment of hesitation before she moved into him. Even though they had both grown, and changed, she still seemed to fit perfectly against him. The initial racing of her heart slowed as she got used to the heat of him. “I have not had pleasant dreams in a long time.” She said honestly, turning so that she was facing him.
Her hands were tentative as she began to trace the lines of his scars. Not wanting to scare him away, or push him to leave, Olena traced the few from childhood that she was familiar with. The one on his shoulder from when she pushed him out of a tree. The one under his chin, not remember the origin, was old and well healed. He barely seemed to breath as her hands tried to rebuild lost memories.
She was slow to find the new ones, rougher around the edges, red under the fading light. Her hand lingered over one that still looked fresh, but she didn’t question how he got it. Instead, she let her eyes meet his, her smile finally reaching her eyes. “I keep thinking you will disappear, and I will wake up and it will have been a dream.” She moves her hand to his cheek, pressing her forehead to hers. “Say we will never be parted. If you say it, I will believe it.”
As much as his touch tried for innocence, it didn’t help but make her settle. She had forgotten the feel of his skin, but the memory of their first time in a field of wildflowers came rushing back to her. She could almost smell the fresh water in their small room, could almost picture the grass beneath them.
His invitation was met with only a moment of hesitation before she moved into him. Even though they had both grown, and changed, she still seemed to fit perfectly against him. The initial racing of her heart slowed as she got used to the heat of him. “I have not had pleasant dreams in a long time.” She said honestly, turning so that she was facing him.
Her hands were tentative as she began to trace the lines of his scars. Not wanting to scare him away, or push him to leave, Olena traced the few from childhood that she was familiar with. The one on his shoulder from when she pushed him out of a tree. The one under his chin, not remember the origin, was old and well healed. He barely seemed to breath as her hands tried to rebuild lost memories.
She was slow to find the new ones, rougher around the edges, red under the fading light. Her hand lingered over one that still looked fresh, but she didn’t question how he got it. Instead, she let her eyes meet his, her smile finally reaching her eyes. “I keep thinking you will disappear, and I will wake up and it will have been a dream.” She moves her hand to his cheek, pressing her forehead to hers. “Say we will never be parted. If you say it, I will believe it.”
"Nor have I."
As soon as she laid beside him it was as if a piece of a puzzle had fallen into place, like the time that had stretched between them didn't exist anymore and they were in the meadows of home. She touched his scars, starting with the oldest in a way that kept up that illusion of familiarity and as he closed his eyes he could still hear the river. As the traces of her fingertips slid along the newer wounds though the sound of the water faded and they were back in the room, the candlelight far different than the heat of the sun.
The way she felt against him now had changed, her body more angular most places, but with a softness at her curves that had not been present when he'd held her last. Dima held his breath as she traced along his newest marks, the long gash in his abdomen left from his encounter with the pirate, the still healing wound in his shoulder from the escape from Athenia. He wondered what she thought of him, if this was anything like she had thought he might be or if she was disappointed in what he was. They hadn't discussed their pasts in depth, but he knew she wouldn't be proud of the death he had caused.
Meeting her gaze as she spoke, he smiled back at her and brushed his nose against hers, a small gesture recalled from their youth. Her hand on his cheek was a healing touch, and he could feel the tense way he'd been holding his body slowly fade away. Olena had always had such an effect on him.
"I promise. We will never be parted again. Not until we're old and grey and the gods take us home."
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"Nor have I."
As soon as she laid beside him it was as if a piece of a puzzle had fallen into place, like the time that had stretched between them didn't exist anymore and they were in the meadows of home. She touched his scars, starting with the oldest in a way that kept up that illusion of familiarity and as he closed his eyes he could still hear the river. As the traces of her fingertips slid along the newer wounds though the sound of the water faded and they were back in the room, the candlelight far different than the heat of the sun.
The way she felt against him now had changed, her body more angular most places, but with a softness at her curves that had not been present when he'd held her last. Dima held his breath as she traced along his newest marks, the long gash in his abdomen left from his encounter with the pirate, the still healing wound in his shoulder from the escape from Athenia. He wondered what she thought of him, if this was anything like she had thought he might be or if she was disappointed in what he was. They hadn't discussed their pasts in depth, but he knew she wouldn't be proud of the death he had caused.
Meeting her gaze as she spoke, he smiled back at her and brushed his nose against hers, a small gesture recalled from their youth. Her hand on his cheek was a healing touch, and he could feel the tense way he'd been holding his body slowly fade away. Olena had always had such an effect on him.
"I promise. We will never be parted again. Not until we're old and grey and the gods take us home."
"Nor have I."
As soon as she laid beside him it was as if a piece of a puzzle had fallen into place, like the time that had stretched between them didn't exist anymore and they were in the meadows of home. She touched his scars, starting with the oldest in a way that kept up that illusion of familiarity and as he closed his eyes he could still hear the river. As the traces of her fingertips slid along the newer wounds though the sound of the water faded and they were back in the room, the candlelight far different than the heat of the sun.
The way she felt against him now had changed, her body more angular most places, but with a softness at her curves that had not been present when he'd held her last. Dima held his breath as she traced along his newest marks, the long gash in his abdomen left from his encounter with the pirate, the still healing wound in his shoulder from the escape from Athenia. He wondered what she thought of him, if this was anything like she had thought he might be or if she was disappointed in what he was. They hadn't discussed their pasts in depth, but he knew she wouldn't be proud of the death he had caused.
Meeting her gaze as she spoke, he smiled back at her and brushed his nose against hers, a small gesture recalled from their youth. Her hand on his cheek was a healing touch, and he could feel the tense way he'd been holding his body slowly fade away. Olena had always had such an effect on him.
"I promise. We will never be parted again. Not until we're old and grey and the gods take us home."
His words were comforting, but she was certain that she would blink and he would vanish, even with the feel of his skin hot against her fingertips. There had been so many times the man she’d been paid to have transformed into Dima before her eyes. Part of the reason she’d turned to opium so frequently had been its ability to make her see the man she wanted to see and not the one she was with. Perhaps this was just fueled by that. Olena couldn’t help but think that was the case.
How could the Gods choose to bless them now, after years and years of their cursed separation? Pulled from a life of simplicity and happiness, they had been forced to listen to each other’s torture before being ripped apart. Why would they be given this chance again?
And yet, her hands traced scars she’d never imagined. She certainly never seen this deep gash, so she could have never allowed her mind to add it to his body as she pictured him. Her palm moved to his heart, wondering if she still was able to cause his heart to race like her own was. Resting above it, she couldn’t help but giggle a little as it picked up its steady beat. ”Mine is racing, too.” Her other hand wrapped gently around his wrist, bringing it up to her own chest to place it above her own.
She was sure they were being at the exact same pace, in sync as they always had been.
Olena angled her body towards him, suddenly needing him more than she could say. She had known him so intimately as a youth-- was that the same, too? Or had his desire for her vanished with the years. ”More of my life has been spent as a whore than as yours. But none of them ever mattered as much as you did. None.” She told him frankly, as she had never been one to dance around sensitive topics. ”And I find that I still want you, just as badly as I did then. Is that wrong?” Her grip on his wrist allowed her to pull his hand so that it was cupping her breast. ”Do you still want me like you did back then?” She asked, her eyes staring into his.
Begging him to need her like she needed him.
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His words were comforting, but she was certain that she would blink and he would vanish, even with the feel of his skin hot against her fingertips. There had been so many times the man she’d been paid to have transformed into Dima before her eyes. Part of the reason she’d turned to opium so frequently had been its ability to make her see the man she wanted to see and not the one she was with. Perhaps this was just fueled by that. Olena couldn’t help but think that was the case.
How could the Gods choose to bless them now, after years and years of their cursed separation? Pulled from a life of simplicity and happiness, they had been forced to listen to each other’s torture before being ripped apart. Why would they be given this chance again?
And yet, her hands traced scars she’d never imagined. She certainly never seen this deep gash, so she could have never allowed her mind to add it to his body as she pictured him. Her palm moved to his heart, wondering if she still was able to cause his heart to race like her own was. Resting above it, she couldn’t help but giggle a little as it picked up its steady beat. ”Mine is racing, too.” Her other hand wrapped gently around his wrist, bringing it up to her own chest to place it above her own.
She was sure they were being at the exact same pace, in sync as they always had been.
Olena angled her body towards him, suddenly needing him more than she could say. She had known him so intimately as a youth-- was that the same, too? Or had his desire for her vanished with the years. ”More of my life has been spent as a whore than as yours. But none of them ever mattered as much as you did. None.” She told him frankly, as she had never been one to dance around sensitive topics. ”And I find that I still want you, just as badly as I did then. Is that wrong?” Her grip on his wrist allowed her to pull his hand so that it was cupping her breast. ”Do you still want me like you did back then?” She asked, her eyes staring into his.
Begging him to need her like she needed him.
His words were comforting, but she was certain that she would blink and he would vanish, even with the feel of his skin hot against her fingertips. There had been so many times the man she’d been paid to have transformed into Dima before her eyes. Part of the reason she’d turned to opium so frequently had been its ability to make her see the man she wanted to see and not the one she was with. Perhaps this was just fueled by that. Olena couldn’t help but think that was the case.
How could the Gods choose to bless them now, after years and years of their cursed separation? Pulled from a life of simplicity and happiness, they had been forced to listen to each other’s torture before being ripped apart. Why would they be given this chance again?
And yet, her hands traced scars she’d never imagined. She certainly never seen this deep gash, so she could have never allowed her mind to add it to his body as she pictured him. Her palm moved to his heart, wondering if she still was able to cause his heart to race like her own was. Resting above it, she couldn’t help but giggle a little as it picked up its steady beat. ”Mine is racing, too.” Her other hand wrapped gently around his wrist, bringing it up to her own chest to place it above her own.
She was sure they were being at the exact same pace, in sync as they always had been.
Olena angled her body towards him, suddenly needing him more than she could say. She had known him so intimately as a youth-- was that the same, too? Or had his desire for her vanished with the years. ”More of my life has been spent as a whore than as yours. But none of them ever mattered as much as you did. None.” She told him frankly, as she had never been one to dance around sensitive topics. ”And I find that I still want you, just as badly as I did then. Is that wrong?” Her grip on his wrist allowed her to pull his hand so that it was cupping her breast. ”Do you still want me like you did back then?” She asked, her eyes staring into his.
Begging him to need her like she needed him.
Dima grinned at her comment, glad she admitted that her heart was racing as well. It had been a lifetime since they had lain like this and his mind kept bringing them back to the tree, where they lingered for hours simply holding one another. As they grew they explored together, discovering one another in ways that were both intimate and still innocent. In his adulthood he had done many things he was not proud of, been with others that had in essence meant nothing, taken too many lives. He felt now that no matter how much he still desired her he was no longer the boy that she had loved.
Her heart beating beneath his hand drew his gaze to her chest and then along the rest of her form until it rested back on her face once more. They had both changed in impossible ways, and though this still felt as if it could be some sort of dream, as if his wound had become inflamed and fever was taking him now, he couldn't deny her what she asked. Nothing would be more difficult, or more simple, than learning who she was now that they had grown. He winced still at the sound of her calling herself a whore, his hand tightening instinctively before he forced himself to relax so as not to hurt her, meeting her gaze with a barely hidden heat.
"Yes."
It was a simple answer to a simple question, and as his hand cupped her breast he brushed his thumb against her nipple, tracing slight circles to see if it had the same effect as it had in the past. There were plenty of things he'd forgotten, but little movements and flashes of memory were enough. His hand moved down from her breast, sliding over curves and hipbones that showed how painfully thin she was, shifting her easily so that she was atop him. After all she had been through, he wanted her to be able to take the power, demand of him what she wished for this first night together, and remind them both what it was like to be alive. He sat up enough to bring their lips together and slide both hands through her hair as he kissed her without restraint.
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Dima grinned at her comment, glad she admitted that her heart was racing as well. It had been a lifetime since they had lain like this and his mind kept bringing them back to the tree, where they lingered for hours simply holding one another. As they grew they explored together, discovering one another in ways that were both intimate and still innocent. In his adulthood he had done many things he was not proud of, been with others that had in essence meant nothing, taken too many lives. He felt now that no matter how much he still desired her he was no longer the boy that she had loved.
Her heart beating beneath his hand drew his gaze to her chest and then along the rest of her form until it rested back on her face once more. They had both changed in impossible ways, and though this still felt as if it could be some sort of dream, as if his wound had become inflamed and fever was taking him now, he couldn't deny her what she asked. Nothing would be more difficult, or more simple, than learning who she was now that they had grown. He winced still at the sound of her calling herself a whore, his hand tightening instinctively before he forced himself to relax so as not to hurt her, meeting her gaze with a barely hidden heat.
"Yes."
It was a simple answer to a simple question, and as his hand cupped her breast he brushed his thumb against her nipple, tracing slight circles to see if it had the same effect as it had in the past. There were plenty of things he'd forgotten, but little movements and flashes of memory were enough. His hand moved down from her breast, sliding over curves and hipbones that showed how painfully thin she was, shifting her easily so that she was atop him. After all she had been through, he wanted her to be able to take the power, demand of him what she wished for this first night together, and remind them both what it was like to be alive. He sat up enough to bring their lips together and slide both hands through her hair as he kissed her without restraint.
Dima grinned at her comment, glad she admitted that her heart was racing as well. It had been a lifetime since they had lain like this and his mind kept bringing them back to the tree, where they lingered for hours simply holding one another. As they grew they explored together, discovering one another in ways that were both intimate and still innocent. In his adulthood he had done many things he was not proud of, been with others that had in essence meant nothing, taken too many lives. He felt now that no matter how much he still desired her he was no longer the boy that she had loved.
Her heart beating beneath his hand drew his gaze to her chest and then along the rest of her form until it rested back on her face once more. They had both changed in impossible ways, and though this still felt as if it could be some sort of dream, as if his wound had become inflamed and fever was taking him now, he couldn't deny her what she asked. Nothing would be more difficult, or more simple, than learning who she was now that they had grown. He winced still at the sound of her calling herself a whore, his hand tightening instinctively before he forced himself to relax so as not to hurt her, meeting her gaze with a barely hidden heat.
"Yes."
It was a simple answer to a simple question, and as his hand cupped her breast he brushed his thumb against her nipple, tracing slight circles to see if it had the same effect as it had in the past. There were plenty of things he'd forgotten, but little movements and flashes of memory were enough. His hand moved down from her breast, sliding over curves and hipbones that showed how painfully thin she was, shifting her easily so that she was atop him. After all she had been through, he wanted her to be able to take the power, demand of him what she wished for this first night together, and remind them both what it was like to be alive. He sat up enough to bring their lips together and slide both hands through her hair as he kissed her without restraint.
She was certain that the sound of a sewing pin would have been heard in that room, so quiet was it while she waited for his answer. He was giving her every consideration, wanted to give her time to adjust back to him. But in reality, there was no need to adjust to the idea of being with him again. She knew she would not be perfect, knew that there would be times when the craving for opium would be so strong that she would have a hard time resisting.
But she didn’t want to be a whore. That role had been forced on her when she was raped by Lukos that first time. He took her innocence, but it seemed that she still had a future.
With Dima, like they had always planned.
Rolling with him, she shifted her body to cover his. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized what he was doing. Terrified that he would push her over the edge in a bad way, he was giving her completely control of the situation-- something she hadn’t had in a long time. He wanted her to set the pace, to be able to say no or to stop if she wasn’t ready. But the dampness between her legs as he pressed into her for a kiss was all she needed to know.
She was ready. She wanted him more than she could have imagined. All these years later, it was still there.
As if it had never left.
Her lips readily met his, more sure than she had been hours before. In a world where nothing had been her choice, it was nice to be able to have a say in it all. It was nice to have something that just felt like the missing half of her soul had returned to its place. How had she existed before this moment? How had she been able to wake each morning, knowing her fate hadn’t been with him until now? Her hands moved to his cheeks, holding him close as she deepened the kiss to taste him.
He tasted like home.
Olena moaned gently into the kiss, hips rocking as she let her legs straddle him. She wondered, only briefly, if there was anything she needed to know about him before they continued. Would something she did trigger a memory in him, so bad that he wouldn’t wish to continue? Was there anything he didn’t like? She was nervous that he would be disappointed, but let her moment’s hesitation fall to the wayside in favor of the heat that was rushing to her core.
She was just going to have to trust her desires for him.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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She was certain that the sound of a sewing pin would have been heard in that room, so quiet was it while she waited for his answer. He was giving her every consideration, wanted to give her time to adjust back to him. But in reality, there was no need to adjust to the idea of being with him again. She knew she would not be perfect, knew that there would be times when the craving for opium would be so strong that she would have a hard time resisting.
But she didn’t want to be a whore. That role had been forced on her when she was raped by Lukos that first time. He took her innocence, but it seemed that she still had a future.
With Dima, like they had always planned.
Rolling with him, she shifted her body to cover his. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized what he was doing. Terrified that he would push her over the edge in a bad way, he was giving her completely control of the situation-- something she hadn’t had in a long time. He wanted her to set the pace, to be able to say no or to stop if she wasn’t ready. But the dampness between her legs as he pressed into her for a kiss was all she needed to know.
She was ready. She wanted him more than she could have imagined. All these years later, it was still there.
As if it had never left.
Her lips readily met his, more sure than she had been hours before. In a world where nothing had been her choice, it was nice to be able to have a say in it all. It was nice to have something that just felt like the missing half of her soul had returned to its place. How had she existed before this moment? How had she been able to wake each morning, knowing her fate hadn’t been with him until now? Her hands moved to his cheeks, holding him close as she deepened the kiss to taste him.
He tasted like home.
Olena moaned gently into the kiss, hips rocking as she let her legs straddle him. She wondered, only briefly, if there was anything she needed to know about him before they continued. Would something she did trigger a memory in him, so bad that he wouldn’t wish to continue? Was there anything he didn’t like? She was nervous that he would be disappointed, but let her moment’s hesitation fall to the wayside in favor of the heat that was rushing to her core.
She was just going to have to trust her desires for him.
She was certain that the sound of a sewing pin would have been heard in that room, so quiet was it while she waited for his answer. He was giving her every consideration, wanted to give her time to adjust back to him. But in reality, there was no need to adjust to the idea of being with him again. She knew she would not be perfect, knew that there would be times when the craving for opium would be so strong that she would have a hard time resisting.
But she didn’t want to be a whore. That role had been forced on her when she was raped by Lukos that first time. He took her innocence, but it seemed that she still had a future.
With Dima, like they had always planned.
Rolling with him, she shifted her body to cover his. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized what he was doing. Terrified that he would push her over the edge in a bad way, he was giving her completely control of the situation-- something she hadn’t had in a long time. He wanted her to set the pace, to be able to say no or to stop if she wasn’t ready. But the dampness between her legs as he pressed into her for a kiss was all she needed to know.
She was ready. She wanted him more than she could have imagined. All these years later, it was still there.
As if it had never left.
Her lips readily met his, more sure than she had been hours before. In a world where nothing had been her choice, it was nice to be able to have a say in it all. It was nice to have something that just felt like the missing half of her soul had returned to its place. How had she existed before this moment? How had she been able to wake each morning, knowing her fate hadn’t been with him until now? Her hands moved to his cheeks, holding him close as she deepened the kiss to taste him.
He tasted like home.
Olena moaned gently into the kiss, hips rocking as she let her legs straddle him. She wondered, only briefly, if there was anything she needed to know about him before they continued. Would something she did trigger a memory in him, so bad that he wouldn’t wish to continue? Was there anything he didn’t like? She was nervous that he would be disappointed, but let her moment’s hesitation fall to the wayside in favor of the heat that was rushing to her core.
She was just going to have to trust her desires for him.
As soon as their lips met it was confirmed that he'd never felt love before or since her, never kissed someone as intently, never desired anyone as strongly. Every previous encounter paled now that they were together again.
They took their time with one another, aware of the things that held them both back as instinct kicked in. It was a strange, wonderful feeling, to be both the boy he'd been and the man he was, as if a new person was emerging in this moment as the man he'd wanted to be for her. With each kiss, each touch, they were healing the wounds of the past and he was finally beginning to feel whole again.
Dima held her close to his chest as they caught their breath, pressing a kiss to her forehead with a rare smile hiding against her red curls. He'd been afraid after everything they'd been through, things would have been too different, too traumatic, but now instead of giving one another space they had decidedly declared that being as close to one another as possible was what was needed.
"I love you."
The words he'd only ever spoken to her were as true as they had been in their youth, and for the first time in sixteen years as he drifted to sleep, curled up with Olena beneath the blankets of their bed, he knew that the nightmares would be kept at bay. A peace had settled within his chest he hadn't known in far too long, and with her by his side it felt as if things would finally be well.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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As soon as their lips met it was confirmed that he'd never felt love before or since her, never kissed someone as intently, never desired anyone as strongly. Every previous encounter paled now that they were together again.
They took their time with one another, aware of the things that held them both back as instinct kicked in. It was a strange, wonderful feeling, to be both the boy he'd been and the man he was, as if a new person was emerging in this moment as the man he'd wanted to be for her. With each kiss, each touch, they were healing the wounds of the past and he was finally beginning to feel whole again.
Dima held her close to his chest as they caught their breath, pressing a kiss to her forehead with a rare smile hiding against her red curls. He'd been afraid after everything they'd been through, things would have been too different, too traumatic, but now instead of giving one another space they had decidedly declared that being as close to one another as possible was what was needed.
"I love you."
The words he'd only ever spoken to her were as true as they had been in their youth, and for the first time in sixteen years as he drifted to sleep, curled up with Olena beneath the blankets of their bed, he knew that the nightmares would be kept at bay. A peace had settled within his chest he hadn't known in far too long, and with her by his side it felt as if things would finally be well.
As soon as their lips met it was confirmed that he'd never felt love before or since her, never kissed someone as intently, never desired anyone as strongly. Every previous encounter paled now that they were together again.
They took their time with one another, aware of the things that held them both back as instinct kicked in. It was a strange, wonderful feeling, to be both the boy he'd been and the man he was, as if a new person was emerging in this moment as the man he'd wanted to be for her. With each kiss, each touch, they were healing the wounds of the past and he was finally beginning to feel whole again.
Dima held her close to his chest as they caught their breath, pressing a kiss to her forehead with a rare smile hiding against her red curls. He'd been afraid after everything they'd been through, things would have been too different, too traumatic, but now instead of giving one another space they had decidedly declared that being as close to one another as possible was what was needed.
"I love you."
The words he'd only ever spoken to her were as true as they had been in their youth, and for the first time in sixteen years as he drifted to sleep, curled up with Olena beneath the blankets of their bed, he knew that the nightmares would be kept at bay. A peace had settled within his chest he hadn't known in far too long, and with her by his side it felt as if things would finally be well.