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A guttural sound slips from me and he sucks, then bites down on my lower lip again, brutalizing the skin between his teeth before he releases it.
“You like that, baby?” He speaks so close to my mouth, he kisses me with every word.
“Don’t call me that,” I breathe out, shuffling and searching through the mess in my head, but for the life of me, I can’t grasp at the strings of my MIA sanity.
“Don’t call you what? Baby?”
“Nikolai!”
“Fuck me. I love the way you growl my name, baby.”
“Don’t.”
“Why? Does it hit a nerve?” He rolls his hips and shoves his groin against mine, and my wide eyes meet his lust-filled ones. “Correction, it definitely hit more than one nerve, because you’re fucking hard. This time, it’s definitely for me.”
“Stop…” The word comes out hushed, nearly inaudible, and I’m not sure if Nikolai heard it.
A small part of me is thankful he didn’t, because he wedges his knees between mine and slides the length of his bulging erection against my cock.
A delicious tingle spreads up my spine and I puff out a long exhale.
“Mmm. You got so hard by just kissing.” He swipes his tongue on my mouth over and over as if he’s trying to erase something. “Your dick must be huge. I can feel it through your pants, all erect and begging for attention.”
He rubs himself against me some more, until I feel like I’ll burst, my head and body at complete odds with each other.
I tighten my hold on his nape and tug on his hair, my voice hoarse. “Don’t…stop…”
“Is that don’t stop or don’t and stop?” He falls into a rhythm, dry humping my cock with his until my painful erection strains against my trousers.
I must release a noise, because Nikolai chuckles against my lips. “I’ll take that as the former. Mmm. You feel so good, baby. So fucking perfect.”
His words swim in the pleasure haze surrounding my head and stab me in the very marrow of my bones.
“Do you feel how hard I am for you?”Kiss.“How ravenous I turn when it comes to you?”Kiss.“I’ll devour you fucking whole, my beautiful lotus flower.”Kiss.“I’ll make you forget about anyone who came before me, namely fucking Clara.”
His hand falls from my back, slides down my abs, over my stomach, and to the waist of my trousers. I drop my hand that was squashed between our chests and slap it on his, then frantically shake my head.
Silently.
My eyes imploring his glazed-over ones. This is the first time anyone has looked at me like this. As if they’re possessed with the idea of me.
And it’s fucking terrifying.
“Don’t make me do this,” I whisper when he doesn’t make a move to remove his hand.
“Too late.”
“I’m…drunk.” My chest rises and falls so hard, it grazes his with every movement, every breath, and I’m intoxicated, completely out of my damn mind.
“Then blame it on me, baby.” He pushes my hand away, and this time, I let it fall to my side and don’t attempt to stop him again as he undoes my belt and pulls down my zipper.
My insides are cracking and smashing, and I don’t recognize my lustful thoughts. I don’t recognize this version of me.
Because I find myself watching his movement, anticipation coiling in me like a snake as he wraps a tattooed hand around my rock-hard cock. I don’t stop him when flicks his thumb on the side. I don’t stop him when he gives me a firm, delicious jerk.
I just watch.
In complete, utter fascination.
