In Wonderland

Part 10: "Hi."

Kuzgun felt as if he was floating on air. Dila was sleeping next to him, snoring softly, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this happy, giddy even. Head propped up on his elbow, he continued to watch her, committing every inch of her to his memory. His fingers brushed  aside the hair from her face, and he smiled to himself when she murmured something in her sleep. She did that a lot, talk in her sleep, and he didn't understand any of it but he found it adorable.

Like always, he was momentarily awestruck by her. Her dazzling blue eyes were closed, which was good because then he could focus on her face instead of being lost in her gaze. Dila had always been a beautiful woman, but it wasn't just her looks that he was so madly in love with – it was also her kind heart and her generous soul. Then there was her feisty personality, her boldness and courage which she'd had ever since she was a kid, and her sense of humour. She never took his shit lying down and she was the only one who could match his wits with her acerbic tongue. She could always make him laugh and there was no one else in this world he'd spent every waking moment with. Because, with her, he was at home. She was his home.

Suddenly she stirred next to him, and the blanket sheathing her chest was pulled down. Her naked breasts were uncovered, supple, perky, and he fought the urge to cup them in his hands, to take her rosy nipples inside his mouth and suck on them. He'd done that a lot earlier, kissing her, touching her, tasting her, but it wasn't enough. He wanted more, much more, but she was obviously exhausted and he didn't want to wake her.

His gaze was drawn to her scar, and that familiar wave of guilt flooded over him again. Despite all the years that passed, he still remembered how helpless and scared he felt when she'd pointed the gun at herself. She'd hurt herself because of him. Because of everything he'd done to her. Because he'd failed her and pushed her into such a dark corner that there had been no escape except death.

Reaching for her hand, he brought it to his lips and pressed a tender kiss on her skin.

Never again, he promised himself. There would be no more pain between them, no more misery. He would spend the rest of his life making her happy.

Her eyes drifted open, filled with slumber at first and then surprise when he dropped a tender kiss on her nose. He smiled down at her. "Hi."

"Hi," she murmured.

He squeezed her hand in his, finding himself at a loss for words as she gazed up at him with so much love in her eyes.

"What time is it?" she asked, balancing herself up on her elbows.

Her movements caused the blanket to slide further down, drawing his attention back to her breasts. His gaze lingered on her, taking in every inch of her porcelain skin. A slow blush flushed across her cheeks but she didn't make any moves to cover herself, delighting him.

Their gazes still locked on each other, his fingers stroked her lips, her beautiful, swollen lips that had been kissed and worshipped by him earlier, that he continued to want to cherish, but then she surprised him by taking his thumb into her mouth, sucking on the digit, and he was reminded of what she looked like earlier when she'd taken his cock into her mouth and sucked him off. His breathing grew ragged. When she finally stopped, he dragged his wet thumb down her neck, caressing her dewy skin along her shoulders, then down her chest, trailing down the spot between her breasts. She trembled under his touch; he felt every tremor, every flutter, more so when his thumb began to stroke her right nipple.

A soft moan escaped her lips, her head lolled back.

While his fingers played with one nipple, his mouth closed over the other, lapping up the puckered nub. He teased her, taunted her, her groans echoing throughout the room. She clutched his hair as he dipped his tongue into her navel, and when he began to pleasure her with his mouth her body arched up in response.