Sadie
My skin prickles under his gaze, and for a second the old voices creep in. Jason's impatient sighs, the way he'd rush through everything like my body was just something to get past on the way to his own finish. But Nick isn't rushing. He's kneeling on my mattress, looking up at me like I'm something worth studying, worth memorizing. His gray eyes are dark and steady, and there's no demand in them. Just patient heat wrapped in something careful that makes my chest ache.
I feel exposed in a way that has nothing to do with being naked. My birthmark, the faint stretch marks from years of blood sugar swings, the small imperfections I've always hidden beneath my clothes…they're all there. But he told me not to hide from him. So I don’t.
Nick drops a kiss to my shoulder, then my collar bone.
“You're beautiful, Sadie. Every part of you."
The words are soft, but there’s an undertone of desperation to them, like he is expending every bit of his self-control.
I don't know how to answer, so I don't. I focus on the warmth of his body, the solid weight of him balanced on one elbow. His free hand traces the curve of my shoulder, the rise of my breast and the peak of my nipple, before sliding over the underside and sending a shiver of anticipation through me.
His mouth follows the same path. Every touch lingers. He doesn't skip ahead. When he reaches the strawberry mark on my ribs, he pauses again, pressing his lips there like it's sacred. "This," he says quietly, his voice rough with that faint accent, "makes me want to know every story your body carries."
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, unexpected and embarrassing. Jason never looked at me like this. He never made me feel like my body was a gift instead of an obligation. I blink them back, but Nick notices. He lifts his head, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
"Too much?" he asks.
I shake my head. "No. It's just different." My voice comes out small. "Good different. I just…I'm not used to someone taking their time. Like they actually want to be here with me."
His expression softens, something fierce and protective flickering behind the heat in his eyes. "Then let me show you what that feels like." He kisses me again, deeper this time but still unhurried, his tongue tracing mine like he's savoring the taste. His hand slides lower, cupping my breast with a reverence that makes my back arch into him without thinking. His thumb circles my nipple slowly, teasing until I'm breathing harder, until the ache between my legs builds in a way that's almost overwhelming.
He moves down my body with the same deliberate care. Kisses across my stomach, nuzzling the soft roundness of it, whispering things in Russian under his breath that I don't understand but feel like praise anyway. When he reaches the waistband of my jeans, he looks up at me, waiting for permission in my eyes. I nod, and he eases them down along with my underwear, his palms warm against my thighs.
I'm completely bare now, and the vulnerability hits me again. But Nick doesn't devour, he worships. His hands part my legsgently, and he settles between them, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the inside of one thigh, then the other. Every inch closer to where I need him most feels like a question he's answering with his mouth. When he finally reaches my center, the first slow stroke of his tongue pulls a needy sound of surprise from me I didn't know I could make.
He hums against me, the vibration sending sparks up my spine. "That's it," he murmurs, the words vibrating right where I feel them most. "Let me hear you, Sadie. Let go."
My hands fist in the blankets at first, holding on like I'm afraid the feeling will slip away if I don't grip hard enough. But his rhythm stays steady and unhurried, circling, licking, sucking gently until my hips start to move on their own. He doesn't pin me down. He follows, one hand splayed across my stomach to ground me, the other sliding up to lace with my fingers. The connection is simple, but it anchors something deep inside me.
The pleasure builds gradually, like a wave I can actually ride instead of one crashing over me too fast. I feel myself unwinding, layer by layer. The tension from the crash, from Jason's betrayals, from every night I spent wondering if I'd ever feel safe in my own skin again, loosens with each deliberate touch. I'm not performing. I'm not bracing for the end. I'm just here, in this tiny apartment, with this man who looks at my scars and my fears and still chooses to be slow, to stay present.
"Nick," I whisper, my voice breaking a little as the coil tightens low in my belly. "I— I'm so close."
He doesn't speed up. If anything, he slows just enough to draw it out, his tongue working in lazy, perfect strokes until the wave crests. It rolls through me warm and deep, not sharp or frantic, but full. Spreading from my center out to my fingertips, my toes, leaving me trembling and gasping.
He stays with me through it, gentling me with softer kisses until the aftershocks fade. Only then does he kiss his way back up my body, pausing to nuzzle my breasts, my neck, my mouth. When he settles beside me, pulling me against his chest, I can feel how hard he is through his jeans, but he makes no move to take more.
"You're incredible," he says against my hair, his hand stroking slow circles on my back. "The way you let yourself feel that... I could watch you come apart like that forever."
I bury my face in his shoulder, inhaling the clean, warm scent of him mixed with something darker like smoke. My body feels loose, heavy in the best way. The past feels farther away than it has in years. It’s not gone, but it’s not pressing in so close either. For the first time in forever, I'm not calculating the next step or guarding against disappointment. I'm just here, enjoying the simple act of being touched like I'm precious.
I slide my hand down his chest, tracing the lines of muscle and ink, feeling the steady thud of his heart. "What about you?" I ask softly, a little shy but wanting to give something back.
He catches my hand and brings it to his lips again. "Tonight is about you, Sadie. We have time. All the time you need." His eyes meet mine, that wolf-gray gaze warm now instead of cold. "When you're ready for more, you'll tell me. Until then, let me keep you like this."
I nod against him, letting my eyes drift closed. The unwinding continues, a quiet release in my muscles, like exhaling after years of holding my breath. In his arms, with the lamp casting soft shadows and the city quiet outside, I let myself believe that I can have this. Something that lets me stay in the present and simply feel good.
