I want to probe some more, but he meets my gaze in the mirror. “Oh, right. I wanted to ask you something as well.”
“Hmm?”
“Why do you not like sex?”
My fingers freeze in his hair and I swallow as I meet his gaze. “What do you mean?”
“You said you don’t even like sex, but you do with me. Why didn’t you before?”
“Not all of us enjoy the activity.”
“Why not? Is it because you only did it with girls?”
God. I can’t believe he’s the first person I’m telling this. But he’s been so open with me, the least I can do is share something in return. I don’t like the rejected look in his eyes whenever I refuse to answer his questions.
“It’s not that. I never looked at a person, of any gender, and felt attracted to them or wanted to have sex with them. I never got hard by external stimuli unless I forced myself into the mood. The concept of being aroused due to seeing erotic images or watching people fucking is foreign to me. I never touched myself unless I needed to get myself hard for sex. Never liked porn or understood other men’s need to shag all the time. If it were up to me, I’d happily go celibate for years.”
I stop before I say ‘Or I would’ve in the past.’ I clearly missed his touch while we weren’t together.
The thought of being without it again triggers a queasy feeling at the base of my stomach.
“Baby, I don’t want to put a label on you since you hate that shit—I do, too, by the way—but that’s a bit ace. Uh, I mean asexual, if you’ve heard of that term.”
“I figured I am. Or I was. I don’t even know what I am anymore.”
“But…you did have sex.”
“Because it was expected, not because I wanted to. My releases were always a physical reaction that never affected me mentally. I just never enjoyed the act. It was more of a chore, really… Why are you smiling like a fool?”
“I just can’t help but feel proud that I made you enjoy the glorious act of fucking.”
“Shut up.” I turn off the hairdryer.
“You just needed a good fucking by yours truly.”
“Nikolai!”
He stands up and wraps his arms around my waist, then glides his fingers beneath the shirt to stroke my skin.
I can’t believe I’m thinking this, but I missed his clinginess.
“Bet if I kissed you a little bit, you’ll get in the mood right away. Want to test it?”
“No.”
“Baby, please?” He speaks against my lips and presses his chest to mine.
I breathe heavily even as I plant both hands on his chest. “We already went three rounds.”
“I can do ten. I can’t get enough of you. How about this? Let’s bet how many times I can make you come.”
“Don’t.”
“Your body and mouth sing a very different tune. Your push-and-pull game is spot on.” He darts out his tongue and licks my bottom lip and it trembles beneath his touch. “Did you play it with others before me?”
“No…” I’m surprised my voice comes out steady.
“Because you didn’t want them, but you want me?”
“Shut up.”
“Since when did you start to want me?” he whispers against my ear. “Was it when I pinned you down in the forest? Or was it after you sat on my lap?”
“You wish.”
“Mmm.” He bites on the shell of my ear and I let out a groan. “I love that I’m the only one who sees you like this, all hot and bothered and fucking mine.”
I sink my fingers in his silky strands and tug his head back so that I’m looking down on him. “You’re mine, not the other way around.”
“It’s not a competition. I can be yours while you’re mine.” He grins. “Love these sudden bursts of possessiveness, baby. You better not have had them with others.”
“Hypocritical much? You literally shag everyone.”
“Not everyone… Well, I’m open, I guess, but that was in the past. I’m no longer a manwhore, I swear on Kolya’s honor.”
I fist his hair tighter. “Who the hell is Kolya?”
“Hi, lotus flower.” He rubs his erection against mine. “My name is Kolya and I’m obsessed with your huge cock and beautiful ass.”
I burst out laughing. I can’t help it. “You named your dick?”
“Everyone does.”
“No, they don’t.”
“Yes, they do.”
“If you say so. Why Kolya?”
“That’s the Russian diminutive form of my name. No one but my grandpa and my dad’s side of the family uses it, though.”
“And how long has Kolya been active?”
“Since I was five?”
“Please don’t tell me you had sex at five.”
“No. I had my first gorgeous boner then. Didn’t go well with my mom and everyone in the house when I ran around naked showing it to everyone and pretending it was a gun.”
I chuckle. “Why can I imagine that?”
“You also think it was hilarious, right? I was seriously proud. Only Dad backed up my shenanigans.”
“He seems cool.”
“Coolest dad ever. Before I hit puberty, he sat me down and said, ‘You’re about to go on that adventure you’ve waited for since you were five. Now is the time you can actually use your dick as a gun. Do your thing, son. Just use protection and don’t make me a grandpa.’”
“How…did he take your sexuality? If you came out to them.” I pause. “If you don’t mind me asking?”
“I don’t mind any of your questions, baby. Seriously, stop being annoyingly British. To answer you, I didn’t have to come out. Mom and Dad walked in on me fucking a guy and kissing a girl at fifteen. They were shocked, but not in a judgmental way. Mom already felt I liked guys since I’d wink at them like I did girls. She just wasn’t sure. Dad…well, he was like, ‘Of course you would like the variety. It wouldn’t be you otherwise.’ Then he hugged me and whispered, ‘You better use protection and not make me a grandfather when I’m this young, motherfucker. I mean it.’ He’s effortlessly hilarious, my dad. Oh, he’s also British.”
“Really?”
“Well, he has a complicated family history and he definitely has Russian blood, but he was raised in the UK and speaks in your accent.”
“What’s his name?”
“Kyle Hunter.”
“Hmm. I think I might’ve heard of him in Grandpa’s circle. Wait. Your last name is Sokolov, not Hunter.”
“It’s after Mom. Since Dad had a few last names and Mom’s last name belongs to Russian Bratva royalty, they decided to give it to their children. Nikolai Sokolov is actually my late great-grandfather’s name. I’m his gorgeous incarnation.”
I smile and shake my head. “I’m glad your family is acceptant despite, well, being in the mafia.”
“Mom and Dad are. My aunt and uncle—Kill and Gareth’s parents—too. Everyone else…meh, they’re still backward. I wouldn’t take a guy to meet my grandpa or uncles, for instance. That’d just turn ugly and no one needs that.”
“Does that mean you took a guy to meet your parents?”
“Does it count when they walk in on me? Because that was the only meetings that happened.”
“Jesus. You have more sex than Zeus.”
“Who’s that? A porn star?”
“Please tell me you’re kidding.”
He squints. “Pretty sure I’ve heard about him before. Is he an actor?”
“He’s a Greek god.”
“And he was a porn star?”
“No. He just…let’s say he shagged a lot. Like you.”
“Don’t be jealous, baby.”
“I am not.”
“Well, I am.”
“Of who?”
“Fucking Clara and everyone who saw you naked.”
“You need help.” I suppress a smile. “You’re the one who’s had more sex than me.”
“Yeah, but I’ve never had a relationship and I don’t feel fucking murderous about them like I do with you.”
My lips part and I clear my throat. “My relationships were a façade. I never…cared about them.”
“And you care about me?”
“Shut up.” I wiggle free of his hold. “I’m going to sleep.”
“Wait for me!”
A huge body slams into mine, crashing me into the bed. I groan as I try to push him off me, but it’s impossible.
Partly because I don’t want his weight gone.
Nikolai lays his head on my chest, wraps his arm around my middle, and throws his leg over mine.
“You’re not going anywhere anymore.” He kisses my Adam’s apple. “Night, baby.”
A lump constricts my breathing and I can’t swallow past it as I stare sideways to find his face buried in my neck, his hair falling on the pillow.
His breathing soon evens out and I smile to myself.
Didn’t he say he doesn’t sleep in a bed?
I stroke his arm and kiss the top of his head. “Night, Niko.”
* * *
When I wake up,I realize two things.
One, somewhere in the middle of the night, our positions changed, and right now, my head is on Nikolai’s chest as he hugs me to him, his tattooed arm thrown over my middle—beneath my shirt—and his leg is between mine.
Two, if the clock on the nightstand that shows seven a.m. is correct, then I fucked up.
For the first time in eight years, I didn’t wake up at five. I don’t even do alarm clocks anymore. I am the clock. I always wake up at five. I always run at five thirty.
Not today.
I shattered my holy routine, and now, all the chaos will come rushing in.
What the fuck have I done?
Panic sobers me up in an instant and all the sleep haze disappears.
I start to get up, but Nikolai shoves me back down in his embrace.
His fingers spread on my back and he strokes the skin as he murmurs in a husky tone, “Ten more minutes.”
My exhales are fractured and choppy, and I’m forced to breathe in his body wash. I’m surrounded by his all-encompassing warmth, and it calms me down, for a very strange reason.
I shift and tilt my head to stare up at his face.
“Don’t go,” he lets out in a sleepy rumble.
And my heart swells so much, I’m surprised it doesn’t burst.
How can I go when he’s asking like that?
I caress his sharp jaw, swiping my thumb on his lower lip, and Nikolai releases a blissful moan that tucks its way between my bones.
His eyes slowly open, and I swear I can hear the shatter somewhere inside me when he grins. “Morning, baby.”
Shit.
“Morning,” I whisper, not trusting my voice or myself at this moment.
I try to get up and he tugs me down again. “Let’s cuddle some more.”
“You like cuddling?”
“With you, I do.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel special?”
“You know you are. You don’t need me to stroke your ego more.”
I smile. “Come on. I’ll make us breakfast.”
“Ten minutes.”
“I already missed my morning run. I don’t want to miss class.”
“It’s okay to miss a run. It’s not the end of the world.”
It is to me.
“I like my life in order.”
“Too bad I’m in it.”
“Does that mean you admit you’re chaotic?”
“Never denied it. I love corrupting you.”
“More like I’m leading you to the right path.”
He bursts out laughing, the sound husky and rich. “Good fucking luck trying.”
“I’m nothing if not up for a little challenge.”
“You mean huge.”