I n d o м ι т a в l e

(29)

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"There is peace even in the storm"

― Vincent van Gogh

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{Chapter: 29}

Unedited ✖

{ A S P E N M O N T G O M E R Y }

I was asleep the remaining hours of the trip home. I never moved from Nicholai's side, cuddled close against the heat of his body the entire way.

My senses slowly began coming back to me when my body was being gently moved around and lifted in the air. I moan groggily, peering through barely opened eyelids as the drivers side door is lammed shut and someone begins caring me toward a familiar house.

Nicholai maneuvers me gently in his arms as he opens and closes the wooden door behind us, setting aside the car keys and beginning to trek down the hall and up the stairs. My eyes are barely open when I notice that instead of him dropping me off in the guest room, he kicks open his bedroom door and steps into the warm sphere.

I smother my face into his chest, watching with one eye as he peels back the navy colored sheets and tenderly lays me down on his bed. I look up at him through blurry vision, groaning slightly when he peels my fingers away from his neck.

He shushes me gently when I begin to stir unhappily.

I whine, scrunching my closed lids together tightly, my hand unconsciously feeling around the bed until something slips onto the mattress beside me, coiling their arms around my waist and bringing my directly into their rib cage.

I let out soft breath against Nicholai incredibly soft skin, inhaling his natural musky fragrance as my mind begins floating back into wonderland, my arm curling around his waist.

Nicholai pulls the duvet up to both of our shoulders, pressing several kisses to the side of my face and temple before I fall into unconsciousness.

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I stir awake with a soft snore, burying my nose further into the sturdy furnace-like structure positioned directly beside me.

Something clutching my stomach causes my eyes to flutter open curiously, blinking out of my sleepy torpor and glancing down at what has me trapped.

Nicholai lays on his stomach, the sunlight streaming through the far curtains striking strips of light across the bare skin of his back. One arm is thrown over my stomach while the other is beneath my neck, cocooning me in his embrace while his head is buried in the crook of my neck, his soft breath fanning the tender skin of my mark every few seconds, his back rising with every deep inhale.

Both my legs are sandwiched between his thighs, one of his legs thrown over the top of mine while the other is beneath them both, keeping my locked tightly against him.

The left side of my face is inclined to the side and buried in the back of his hair, the dark strands tickling my nose.

The position does nothing to make me feel uncomfortable like I'd expect. I'd never been the cuddly-type, I always thought it was a bit childish. But wrapped up in Nicholai's embrace, nothing about this feels childish or like some high school romance fling. It feels like I'm wrapped up in my husbands comforting embrace. A small grin lifts my lips.