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His words, the raw possession in his voice, send me hurtling toward the edge.
My body tightens around him, my orgasm building like a tidal wave, unstoppable and all-consuming.
“Let go, Katerina,” he growls, his hand snaking between us to rub hard circles on my clit. “Come for me. Come on my cock like a good girl.”
His filthy words, the command in his tone, are my undoing. I shatter with a scream, my body convulsing around him as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over me.
He follows me over the edge with a roar, his hips slamming into mine as he spills himself deep inside me.
We stay like that for a long moment, locked together, trembling in the aftermath.
His head rests against my shoulder, his harsh breaths gusting over my sweat-slicked skin. I run my hands through his hair, savoring the closeness, the connection.
Finally, with a groan, he pulls out of me, the sudden emptiness making me whimper.
He soothes me with a gentle kiss, his hands running over my body as if to reassure himself that I’m okay.
To my surprise, he doesn’t set me down. Instead, he wraps my legs more securely around his waist and carries me to the bed, never breaking our embrace.
The tenderness of the gesture, so at odds with the rough passion of moments before, makes my heart clench.
He lays me down on the soft sheets, his body covering mine. For a moment, he just looks at me, his eyes roaming over my face as if he’s trying to memorize every detail.
Then, slowly, reluctantly, he starts to pull away. I tighten my grip on him, a sudden panic seizing me at the thought of him leaving.
“Stay,” I whisper, hating the neediness in my voice but unable to hold it back. “Please, Nico. Stay with me.”
He hesitates, and I can see the conflict in his eyes. The desire to stay warring with the instinct to run, to protect himself from the vulnerability of this moment.
Then something in his expression softens. He nods, a small, almost imperceptible gesture, and settles back down beside me. He pulls me into his arms, my head resting on his chest, my leg thrown over his hip.
We lie there in silence for a long moment, just breathing each other in. His heartbeat is steady under my ear, a soothing rhythm that makes my eyelids grow heavy.
But even as my body relaxes, my mind is racing. Because I know, with a sudden, terrifying clarity, that this is a turning point. That if I don’t ask now, if I don’t seize this moment of raw, unguarded honesty, I might never get another chance.
“Nico,” I murmur, my fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “There’s so much I don’t know about you. So much you haven’t told me.”
I feel him tense beneath me, his breath hitching almost imperceptibly. For a moment, I think he’s going to pull away, to shut me out like he always does.
But then he sighs. A heavy, weary sound that seems to come from the depths of his soul.
“I know,” he says softly, his hand coming up to stroke my hair. “And I want to tell you, Katerina. I know I promised you the truth.”
I prop myself up on my elbow, looking down at him. “Then tell me. Right now, Nico. No more secrets, no more half-truths.”
He meets my gaze, and I see the conflict warring in him. “I will,” he promises, his voice rough with emotion. “But not tonight. In the morning, when we’re both clear-headed and can really talk…I’ll tell you everything.”
I search his face, looking for any hint of deception, any sign that this is just another manipulation. But all I see is sincerity, a desperate, aching need for me to understand.
So I nod, settling back down into his embrace. “In the morning,” I agree, my eyes drifting shut. “I’ll hold you to that.”
His arms tighten around me, his lips pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “I know you will,” he murmurs, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You never let me get away with anything, do you?”
“Never,” I mumble, already half-asleep. “Someone has to keep you in line.”
16
NICO
