Chapter 61 Chapter 61
Chapter 61
Nikolai’s POV
She nodded quick, her eyes big and scared, like she just saw a ghost behind that shelf. I could feel the questions bubbling up in her, ready to spill out. But I wasn’t in the mood for talking about hidden rifles or whatever secrets Dante kept locked away in this house. Not now.
Not with her standing there, all flushed and messy from what we almost did.
She opened her mouth, probably to ask what the hell that was. “Nikolai, what…”
I put a finger to my lips, shushing her soft. “Not now, little one.” My voice came out low, almost a whisper. I grabbed the blanket from the floor, shook it out, and draped it over her shoulders. She looked so small under it, like a kid playing hide and seek. But she wasn’t a kid.
Not with those curves peeking out.
My shoulder throbbed from the fresh wound, but I ignored it.
Slid my good arm around her waist and lifted her up easy, like she weighed nothing. She gasped, her hands grabbing my neck for balance. Her body pressed warm against mine, and I could smell that vanilla scent mixed with something sweeter, something from earlier.
I carried her down the hall to her room, the one with the big bed and the bathroom attached. Kicked the door open with my foot and set her down gentle on the edge of the mattress. She looked up at me, blanket slipping a bit, showing skin that made my blood run hot.
“You should shower,” I said, turning toward the bathroom. The air felt thick, heavy with what we didn’t say. I twisted the knob on the tub, letting warm water rush in, steam starting to fog the glass. Tested it with my hand. Perfect. Not too hot, not cold.
She stood up behind me, letting the blanket fall. I heard it hit the floor. Turned around and there she was, smiling shy, but bold in her eyes. “You should join me.”
That smile hit me like a punch. I smirked back, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ll watch.”
Her cheeks went pink, but she didn’t back down. Stepped past me into the bathroom, nightie sliding off her shoulders slow, like she knew exactly what she was doing.
The glass wall between the tub and the room was clear, no curtains, just steam starting to cloud it a little. She glanced over her shoulder, eyes locking on mine, then stepped under the water.
Water cascaded down her skin, soaking her hair, making it stick to her back. She tilted her head, letting it run over her face, down her neck, between her breasts.
Her hands moved lazy, soaping up, bubbles sliding over curves. She arched a bit, turning so I could see the side of her, the way water traced lines over her hips, her thighs. It was torture, pure and simple. My pants felt tight, my body screaming to touch her.
She caught me staring, bit her lip. “You sure you just want to watch?”
Fuck. I couldn’t help it. Pushed off the wall, stripped off my pants quick, ignoring the pull in my bandage. Stepped into the tub with her, water hot on my skin. She turned to face me, eyes wide, but hungry.
I backed her against the tile, my body close, not touching yet. Water poured over us both, mixing with the heat building between.
Her hands reached for me first, fingers tracing my chest, over tattoos and scars. She leaned in, lips brushing my collarbone, soft and wet. I groaned, grabbed her waist with my good arm, pulling her flush against me.
She gasped, her nails digging in, scraping lines down my back. Pain mixed with pleasure, sharp and good.
I wanted to kiss her hard, claim that mouth, but my shoulder screamed no. Couldn’t lift both arms without tearing something.
Frustration built fast. Pushed her higher against the wall, her legs wrapping around me. Water made everything slick, her skin sliding against mine. She moaned low, grinding slow, her heat pressing where I needed it most.
My free hand explored, fingers trailing down her stomach, lower, finding that spot that made her shiver. She arched into me, nails raking harder, leaving red trails over ink and old wounds. “Nikolai,” she whispered, voice breathy, eyes half closed.
I watched her face, the way her lips parted, breaths coming quick.
Moved my fingers deliberate, circling, pressing, feeling her tense and release. She clutched me tighter, hips moving with the rhythm. It was raw, no games, just need. Steam filled the air, making it hard to breathe, but I didn’t care. Her body responded perfect, slick and ready.
But then it hit me again.
That question from earlier. “Are you a virgin?” She never answered, but the way she hesitated, the flash of fear in her eyes. What if she was? I couldn’t just take her like this, rough against a wall, with my body half broken. Didn’t want to hurt her, not her first time.
Not like that.
Frustration boiled over, mixing with the heat. I wanted her bad, but not if it meant breaking something in her. Stepped back sudden, water splashing. She looked confused, reaching for me. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head, grabbed a towel, dried off quick. Pulled on my trousers, leaving the shirt. Her nail marks stood out red on my skin, crisscrossing tattoos and scars like fresh battle lines.
Didn’t say a word. Just walked out, door clicking shut behind me. Left her there, water still running, my body aching with what I couldn’t have.