Chapter155 Played by Me, Hidden from Him
Aliya POV
I stood at the door, double-checking the address Patrick sent me.
My heart was racing.
My wolf, Mia, stirred inside me, restless, her instincts sharp and wild. I pushed the door open, expecting to see Patrick waiting for me. Instead, I froze.
No Patrick.
Just Nikolai was there, lounging lazily on the sofa with half a bottle of whiskey in his hand, his deep eyes glinting under the dim light.
Nikolai’s head snapped up when I stepped inside. His lips curled into a lazy, drunken smirk. “Well, damn, Aliya. What’re you doin’ here?”
I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way Mia growled inside me, pacing like she was ready to claw her way out.
“I’m here for Patrick,” I said, keeping my tone flat. “I’m leaving.”
I turned for the door, but before I could take two steps, Nikolai’s hand shot out, grabbing my arm. His grip was firm, not painful, but enough to stop me cold.
“Hold up,” he said, his voice dropping lower, teasing. “You just got here. What’s the rush?”
Mia roared inside me, her instincts screaming something primal, something dangerous. She wanted him,Nikolai.
I see now.
It must have been Nikolai pretending to be Patrick who lured me here!
The air between us crackled with something raw, something I didn’t want to name. My pulse spiked, and I yanked my arm, trying to pull free. “Let go, Nikolai. I gotta go.”
He didn’t budge. Instead, he stood, towering over me, his eyes dark and intense despite the alcohol.
Before I could react, he scooped me up like I weighed nothing, his arms strong and steady as he carried me to the couch. I gasped, my hands pushing against his chest, but it was like shoving a brick wall.
“Nikolai, what the hell—”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he took a swig from the bottle, his eyes never leaving mine.
Then, with a wicked grin, he leaned in and kissed me, his lips crashing against mine. The whiskey burned as it flooded my mouth, sharp and bitter. I choked, coughing against his lips, but he didn’t stop. His kiss was hungry, desperate, like he’d been waiting for this moment for years.
My body betrayed me. The alcohol, his touch, the heat of his mouth,it set me on fire.
Mia was howling, urging me to give in, to let go.
My skin flushed, and a shameful warmth pooled low in my belly. I was wet, embarrassingly so, and the realization made my face burn hotter. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, until finally, he pulled back, leaving me gasping for air.
I didn’t think. My hand flew up, and I slapped him hard across the face. The sound echoed in the quiet room. “You’re drunk,” I spat, my voice shaking. “I’m leaving.”
Nikolai didn’t flinch. His cheek barely reddened, and that damn smirk stayed in place. Before I could move, he grabbed my wrists, pinning them with one hand.
His other hand slid down, pushing up the hem of my skirt. I froze as his fingers brushed over my underwear, teasing, pressing just enough to make me squirm.
“Drunk or not,” he murmured, his voice low and mocking, “you’re soaked, Aliya. Don’t act like you don’t want this.”
I opened my mouth to protest, to tell him to stop, but the words caught in my throat. Mia was clawing at my insides, her desire mixing with mine, making it hard to think straight.
My body was screaming one thing, but my mind was blaring alarms. This was wrong. This was Nikolai, not Patrick. I had to get out of here.
Then, a knock at the door shattered the moment. “May I come in?” Patrick’s voice came through, clear and close. My heart stopped. Panic flooded me, drowning out everything else.
“Relax, Aliya,” he whispered, his voice a low, teasing drawl, his breath warm and tingling against my ear.
My heart was already hammering.
Before I could pull away or snap at him, his hand moved, quick and deliberate, reaching into the glass . His fingers plucked out a single ice cube, glistening under the dim light, dripping faintly as he held it up for a moment, letting me see it.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat. “Nikolai, don’t—” I started, but the words died as he slipped his hand under my skirt with a confidence that made my stomach lurch.
My entire body tensed, my thighs clamping together instinctively, but that only made it worse, trapping the cold right where he wanted it.
I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, desperate to stifle the sound threatening to escape.
The ice was unrelenting, its chill spreading in waves, sharp and biting, yet somehow igniting a heat deep inside me that I couldn’t ignore.
My hands gripped the edge of the couch, nails digging into the fabric as I tried to anchor myself against the overwhelming sensation.
Nikolai’s fingers moved subtly, adjusting the ice, letting it glide just enough to keep the cold fresh and piercing. Every tiny shift sent a new jolt through me, my body trembling uncontrollably, caught in a tug-of-war between resistance and surrender.
Mia was howling inside me, her primal instincts clawing at my restraint, urging me to give in to the wild, reckless pull of the moment.
My face burned, not just from the cold but from the shameful awareness of how my body was reacting, how the heat pooling low in my belly was winning out over my better judgment.
My breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out Nikolai’s smug expression, the way his gaze seemed to see right through me.
He leaned closer, his lips brushing my ear as he murmured, “You’re fighting it, but you don’t want to.” His voice was a low rumble, dripping with amusement, and it only made the heat in my core flare hotter, clashing with the icy torment he was inflicting.
Then, just as I thought I couldn’t take any more, he eased the ice away, letting it melt against my skin, leaving a cold, wet trail that made me shiver all over again.
He tugged my underwear back into place with a slow, deliberate touch, his fingers lingering just long enough to make my pulse spike. Then, with a quick, playful smack to my hip, he leaned back, his smirk as infuriating as ever.
“Don’t let your boyfriend catch you like this,” he said, his tone light but laced with mockery. “Wouldn’t want him to know how much fun you’re having.”
I scrambled to sit up, my face burning, my body still reeling from the ice. I smoothed my skirt down, trying to look normal, but I knew I was a mess—flushed, breathless, guilty.
The door creaked open, and Patrick stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room before landing on me.
“Hey,” he said, his brow furrowing as he took in my state. “You okay? You look… off.”
"What are you doing here?"