Chapter 20 Chapter Twenty
Nikolai's POV
"I will make you feel good..." She said softly, grinning at me while my face was devoid of any emotions. “It has been a while, right? You need to vent out your emotions." Gianna tiptoed as she ran her tongue across her lips, but I glared at her. She should know the rules that I wouldn't do anything affectionate when I am in this sour mood. I hated foreplay.
The gesture repulses me.
Our relationship was only based on carnal desires and comfort. I started to do this with Gianna for only one reason.
When I needed to vent my anger and let out those desires building up between my legs. I had made it clear from the beginning. Since Gianna knew the rules, that love, romance, and that relationship stuff are not for me, she went down to business. Her hand ran on the Hem of her big t-shirt. "Strip and get on the bed." My voice came out dry without emotion, and Gianna knew what to do: take off her clothes and walk back to the bed. "Spread your legs." She smirked, spreading her legs so that I could see her hole from where I was standing. I grabbed my jacket and tossed it away, stripping every piece of fabric off my skin, while I joined her in bed. I had pushed my cock into her without warning, even though my actions had caused her pain, she wasn't complaining. I could see that pleasure in her eyes knowing I was inside her and that she is the only female I kept coming back to always.
Gianna moaned when I quickened my pump. I was letting out my frustration, but I don't think it's working, let's say it was going on fine until something inside my head flashed me the face of Elena. Somehow, Elena was turning out to be the reason behind my sexual frustration. And damn her for being so beautiful and forbidden.
Elena!
Oh my Elena!
Just meeting her a few days ago, she had already crawled her way into my heart and grabbed a chair to sit. A heart I had no idea I had all this time. That innocent face of hers was a walking temptation for all the men in the city, and sadly, I was one of the poor lads desperate to get into her pants. I chuckled as her nudity came flashing. In a flash, I had pulled Gianna's legs and placed them on my shoulder, so I could thrust deeper, and she let out a cry. I pinched her nipples hard while my brain was reminded of Elena's nipples. Those hard nipples of hers that had tormented me for days. My eyes were slowly turning into something dangerous; they were clouded with Insanity.
She felt overwhelmed in this position. She felt so full and as if I blanketed her in my scent, she came undone over and over again.
I let out a groan as I picture Elena beneath me. I know I was close, and I pulled out without warning, earning a growl from Gianna. That was all, I pulled away from her the moment my body remembered how to breathe again.
The room was still warm, heavy with the aftermath of something that should have satisfied me. Sweat clung to my skin. The sheets were tangled, bearing proof of what had just happened. Gianna shifted beside me, her fingers already reaching, already assuming.
I sat up abruptly.
The movement was sharp enough that she froze.
For a second, I just stared at the wall across from the bed, jaw clenched, chest tight. There was a sour taste in my mouth that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with regret. My body felt used instead of sated. Empty instead of full.
Disgust rolled through me quietly, corrosive.
I swung my legs off the bed and stood, dragging a hand down my face. The mirror across the room caught my reflection: dark eyes, hard lines, a man who looked like he had just lost a fight he never should’ve stepped into.
Behind me, the mattress dipped.
“Nikolai?” Gianna’s voice was soft, cautious now.
Her hand brushed my lower back. As she pressed kisses on my shoulder, ready to pull me into her bed again
“Don’t,” I said.
The word came out colder than I intended, sharp enough to cut.
Her hand dropped instantly.
I reached for my jeans, pulling them on with stiff movements, as if the fabric itself offended me. I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t. Because if I did, I would have had to explain something I didn’t fully understand myself.
“Did… did you not enjoy it?” she asked.
The question landed between us like a loaded gun.
I stopped moving.
Enjoy it.
I closed my eyes.
Because the truth was sitting in my chest like a stone: I hadn’t. Not really. My body had responded, of course it had but my mind had been somewhere else. Somewhere forbidden. Somewhere I had no right to be.
Elena’s face flashed behind my eyelids. Her voice. Her laugh. Those hard nipples of hers. The softness of her breast. The way she looked at my brother like she was already his, like she belonged there. The thought of them together, the thought of him, kissing her or maybe she straddling him.
I was still starving.
Not for Gianna. Not for the sex.
For her.
For Elena
I turned to look at Gianna then, really look at her. She was propped on one elbow, hair messy, eyes searching my face for reassurance I couldn’t give.
I said nothing.
Because any answer would’ve been a lie.
Her lips parted, as if to say something else, but I was already moving again. I crossed the room and grabbed my gun from the dresser, the familiar weight grounding me more than anything else had that night. Jacket next. Keys. Phone.
I ran a hand through my hair, grooming myself back into the man I was supposed to be, the one who didn’t hesitate, didn’t feel, didn’t want what he couldn’t have.
Behind me, I heard the rustle of sheets.
Gianna slid off the bed.
She didn’t bother covering herself. Naked, unashamed, she walked toward me like she had every right to. Like this wasn’t the first time a man had pulled away from her and she’d decided not to accept it.
Maybe this was the first time, and it's coming from me.
She pressed soft kisses between my shoulder blades, her hands gliding over my back, trying to lure me into forgetting for the second time.
“Come back to bed,” she murmured. “We can take our time this time.”
I stiffened.
She kissed my spine, slower now, more deliberate.
"Gianna please..."
“When will I see you again?” she asked, voice teasing, hopeful. Not minding my tone.
I turned around gently but firmly, catching her wrists before she could pull me back into something I didn’t want to repeat.
“I don’t know,” I said.
Her brows furrowed. “You don’t know?”
“I said what I said.”
She studied my face, searching for cracks, for weakness. Then she smiled, small, almost shy.
“Well,” she said lightly, “I guess I should tell you… I love you.”
The words hit harder than any bullet ever had.
I stared at her.
The room seemed to go quiet, like the air itself was holding its breath.
“That wasn’t part of the deal,” I said, my voice low and dangerous.
Her smile faltered.
“I was kidding,” she said quickly, laughing too fast. “Relax, Nikolai. I know what this is.”
But I didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on my face. The way her fingers tightened around my wrists for just a second too long.
This was trouble.
I stepped back, putting distance between us, between me and another mistake waiting to happen.
That was when my phone vibrated in my hand.
The sound cut through the tension like a blade.
Gianna opened her mouth, maybe to say something else, maybe to ask me not to go but I was already looking down at the screen.
Matteo.
My stomach tightened.
I answered before it could ring again.
“What?” I said.
There was a pause on the other end, then Matteo’s voice, low and serious.
“We need to meet. Now.”
And just like that, I knew whatever waited for me outside this room was going to be worse than anything I was running from inside it.