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“I do,” I moan, “Now stay still and let me do it.”
Nikolai’s lips twitch, but he stays still. I open his suit jacket, letting it fall to the sides, and touch his chest hesitantly. It’s as if he’s carved from stone, all hard edges. I shift my hips in circles and tighten my hands on his chest, my nails digging into him, making him hiss. I go faster, alternating between back and forth and circles, rubbing my clit against him.
“Ride my cock faster, Camilla,” Nikolai groans. “Ride it like my little whore. That’s what you are, and you won’t be fuckinganyoneelse.”
I start to ride him faster, and he grabs my hips to help me with the pace. I chase the feeling of euphoria running through my body as my clit rubs against him. The couch begins to move backward loudly, but I don’t stop. Instead, I go harder, and so does he. He dips his head, his lips finding my nipple, and I grab onto the couch with one hand and his hair with the other. He bites my breasts hard—hard enough to draw blood. I wince when I feel the sting, seeing the blood trailing down my chest.
“Yes,” Nikolai hisses when I pull on his black strands. “Harder,” he demands.
I pull his hair harder while I focus on our thrusts, trying to chase that feeling, and when he pulls my nipple into his mouth and sucks on it along with my piercing, I feel myself falling into the abyss. All it takes is him biting my sensitive nipple to send me over the steep edge, and this time, I scream. He doesn’t muffle it, either. It’s as if he wants everyone to hear it.
He releases my nipple and grabs my hips, topping from the bottom, and within a minute he’s coming inside of me. His moans and groans make my stomach flip, the sounds making me want him again. Once his cock stops pulsing inside me, he buries his face in the crook of my neck.
We just sit there, me on top of him, while we come down from the high. Literally and figuratively for me, anyway.
“It’s time to go back to the party,” I tell him, trying to get off of him. He grabs my hips instead and I frown.
“You don’t want to do that,solnyshko.” He says against my ear, pulling me closer toward him by my waist.
Maybe, but I have commitments.
“Ihaveto go.”
Nikolai sighs and lets me go. I quickly get off his lap and run to the bathroom, trying to clean up. Once done, I come back out, and he’s dressed again and appearing more handsome than ever. I swear, this man could never not look put together.
“Bye,” I tell him.
“This isn’t over, Camilla,” he tells me and I stiffen. To me, it is. This is the very last time, and I’m telling Leo precisely that. I won’t be helping him anymore. “I hope Leonardo smells me on you, how I fucked you. I hope my cum drips down your legs like my filthy whore by the time you make it back to him.”
I gulp but don’t say anything else. I open the door and go find the man I’m marrying in a year.
* * *
So I was weak.
I didn’t tell Leo shit yet. I don’t know if it’s because I’m scared or just want to spend more time with Nik. I told myself he and I were done, but leaving him there in that suite after everything… all I wanted was to go back.
Now, he seems to be the one who wants to spend time with me instead, and when he invited me over to his house, I simply couldn’t refuse. Why is it so hard to tell him no? It’s like I’m sixteen again and he’s sneaking into my room, making me feel things I shouldn’t.
I’m standing in the middle of his room at theD’yavolohouse, stunned into silence. Not because of anything he did, but because I see his personality in every nook and cranny. He said he liked photography…except if this is his photography, then this is way more thanlikingsomething.
There are black and white pictures of different sizes framed on the walls, not one inch of white paint visible to me, and they vary between landscapes and portraits. Two images in particular draw my attention, and they’remine. My pictures are on his wall. A black and white piece of me at the beach, which he snapped when I was not paying attention to him. He caught me mid-laugh. And one he took of me—the only one—all those years ago.
Memories of that day by his side flood my mind, and I tighten my fists. God, I want him so bad. Why justwhydo I have to want him this bad? It would be so much easier if I could turn off my feelings, ignore them.
I’m so screwed.
“Come here, princess,” he tells me in a hoarse voice that sends tingles down my spine. His hair looks tousled, like he just woke up or he fucked someone. I hope it’s not the latter. Patting his lap, he gives me sweet eyes, which makes me start walking toward him without any shred of control. “Let’s watch a movie.”
I fidget with my fingers when I reach him, picking at my nails, and he looks down at my hands. His eyes have questions he doesn’t utter, but I see them. Why do you do that? What’s wrong? Are you damaged?
Ishe?
I crawl onto his lap and face the television. He’s paused onScream, a horror movie that I genuinely love and we almost watched together before. Then again, horror movies are about all I watch.
“Did you stalk me again, lover boy?”
He laughs at that, a full belly laugh I feel against my back. The deep rumble brings me peace, something that shouldn’t happen with my brother’s killer. “Lover boy, huh? But no, I didn’t. I just happen to love horror movies.”
