“That’s easy.” I pick up the pace, riding him in a long, unhurried rhythm, then I place a palm on his chest and flick my fingers on the lotus flower tattoo. “The drug in me is you.”
I can feel his cock thickening inside me as he curses. He jerks his hips up to meet my fall down, but he doesn’t rush the pace and lets me fuck myself on his cock slowly, enjoying every lick of desire and every roll of my hips to take him fully.
Every scrape of his piercings and every groan of pleasure breaks me apart little by little.
He can’t get deep enough or fuck me hard enough. He’s wrong. I don’t need drugs. I’m high on his smell, his touch, but most of all that look in his eyes.
It’s not lust. It’s love. He looks at me like he loves me, and that nearly makes me burst into both pleasure and tears.
He strokes his hand on my thigh and hips before he fists my cock and jerks me in the same rhythm I fuck him, slow and measured, as our eyes clash and my heart nearly spills out. If the beat beneath my fingers is of any indication, then his heart is also on the verge of exploding.
I realize with astounding clarity that I’m not fucking him. I’m making love to him.
He’s not only touching my body. He’s breaching my newly born heart and my bruised soul.
He pulls back the foreskin and teases my tip, using the precum to lube me up until the sloppy sounds echo in the air. He squeezes and teases my balls in the right places until I’m delirious.
“I love how you ride my cock, baby, but do you know what I love more?” He flashes me the most gorgeous smile. “You.”
I don’t even feel the wave until it submerges me. My balls tighten and the release rushes through me in powerful waves. My cum squirts all over his hand and abs as he thrusts deeper inside me, fucking me to oblivion through my orgasm.
“Fucking Christ, I love watching you come.” He growls before he fills me up with his cum.
I roll my hips, riding him until his cock deflates inside me, then I lift myself up and moan when I feel his cum dripping out of me.
Both of us watch it soaking his cock and balls before I fall as a heap all over his solid chest and bury my face in the crook of his neck.
We breathe heavily as I nuzzle my nose in his wet hair and he sandwiches my legs between his.
“Sorry…fuck.” I try to get up. “Am I crushing you?”
Nikolai wraps his arms around my waist and shoves me back down. “No way in fuck you’re moving right now.”
I chuckle against his neck. “I don’t think I can, to be honest.”
“Fuck right. That was the top-five fuck of my entire life.”
My throat works with a swallow as the pleasure haze slowly withers away. “What are your top four?”
“In no particular order. The first time I made you come. The first time I sucked you off. First time I fucked you. The second time I fucked you after you were all jealous. The first time you got on your knees for me. That time you jumped me as soon as I stepped into the penthouse and demanded I fuck you. The time you agreed to stay. The time you woke me up with your lips around my cock.”
“That’s more than four and they’re all about me.”
“You’re the best fuck of my life, baby.”
I lift myself up and cross my arms on his chest so that I’m looking at his handsome face and his glorious damp hair splaying on the pillow. “You want me to believe I’m better than all the men and women you fucked your way through?”
“They were only physical. They meant nothing.”
“And I do?”
“Baby, you mean fucking everything.”
My heart does that violent thud again and I’d swear he can feel it against his chest, but I don’t care enough to pull away from him.
I tease my fingers over his new tattoo, a sense of raging possessiveness engulfing me. “Good. Because you’re my property, Niko. You have the ink to prove it.”
“And you are mine,” he breathes out with the same intense possessiveness.
He drags my lips to his and we kiss for what seems like an eternity. Then I lift myself enough to retrieve some wet tissues to clean us up before I prop myself back up on his chest.
Nikolai spears his hand beneath his head and watches me with that permanent grin that I’m only privy to.
It slowly disappears and a frown appears on its behalf.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He grabs my wrist and my breathing is cut off when he removes my watch. I don’t stop him, even though every fiber of my being demands I do.
My heart aches when he releases a puff of relief upon seeing I haven’t indulged in my self-destructing habits.
I expect him to let me go, but he strokes his thumb over the scarred skin, and the more he touches me, the harder it is to breathe.
My fucked-up head starts fogging up and I plunge headfirst into the inky lake of my mental state.
I try to pull my hand free, but Nikolai’s firm grip keeps it in place as he gauges my expression.
“Remember the part where you don’t get to hide from me anymore?”
“I don’t think now is a good time…”
He shakes his head and the words get stuck in my throat.
Nikolai’s touch turns softer and his voice becomes more gentle. “Tell me, baby. I just want to understand and help you. If you don’t speak to me, I don’t know where to start.”
“I’m fine—”
“What did I say about that fucking word?”
“I’m really okay now. I’m over it.”
“I’m not sure if you’re lying to me or yourself at this point.”
“Can’t you just let it go?”
“No, I can’t just let it go when it’s a huge part of who you are. Why can’t you tell me? Do you not trust me?”
“No, no, of course I do.” It’s because I trust him so much that I’m scared shitless about his reaction.
He’ll leave you when he knows what you’ve done. Everyone else will see you as the weakling you are.
I swallow past the lump in my throat as that voice hammers inside my head.
“Then why the fuck are you hiding from me?” His voice drips with frustration and I want to erase that, I want to protect him, especially from myself.
Because he shouldn’t love me. I’ll hurt him, even unintentionally, I know I will.
But I offer him something, just a little truth. “Remember when I told you I hate myself?”
He nods, his expression easing, and he goes completely still, as if my words are a ceremony he wouldn’t dare disrupt.
“A long time ago, I did something so fucked up and I never…forgave myself for it. Every time I look in the mirror, I see that version of me, and I can’t stand it. The need to crash and burn it flows inside me every second of every fucking day. That’s also why I stopped drawing people, animals, or anything with eyes. I feel as if they’re my own reflection from the mirror following me everywhere.” I smile with difficulty. “The only reason why I never took a shower with you is because I didn’t want you to witness that version of me whenever I look at the bathroom mirror. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” His voice softens. “Can you tell me what you did to make you feel that way?”
“One day. I just need to get my shit together to be able to talk about it. Can you wait?”
“Absolutely, and, baby?” He kisses the top of my head and his next words nearly give me a heart attack. “Even if you hate yourself, I’ll love you for the both of us.”
NIKOLAI
If a few weeks ago someone had told me my lotus flower would be taking me on one date, let alone three, I would’ve called an ambulance.
But here we are on our third date. That’s right. Third. Outside. With people around us. And he’s not panicking.
I stare down at his hand in mine, our fingers intertwined, and I discreetly pinch my nape. That hurts. This is not a fucking dream.
We walk down a dirt path in his favorite park in London that’s close to where he lives, Hampstead Heath.
He said he needed something simple after all the touristy things I made him do with me. London Eye, London Bridge—or Tower Bridge as he liked to correct me, with an extremely snobbish expression, I might add—Camden Lock, and a whole day in the food market. Yesterday, we went everywhere, from Coal Drops Yard all the way to East London and then back to central London and Covent Garden where we watched some opera show in the Royal Opera House.
Definitely not my thing and I sure as shit stood out even in formal wear.
But I went for Bran’s sake since he loves those prim and proper things. Besides, he looked fucking mouthwatering in a suit, so I wasn’t complaining. Needless to stay, I fell asleep after the first ten minutes, and he let me use his shoulder as a pillow. So I might have pretended to stay asleep for longer than needed.
Today is surprisingly not that cloudy, and the sun shines through the gigantic forest-like trees of the park. It looks half kempt and half unkempt with a few asphalt roads and others left as dirt.
It’s definitely better weather than yesterday. We had to run for shelter after a sudden downpour, and Bran pulled me into a corner and kissed me shitless. While people passed by.
I nearly came in my pants then and there.
Is it normal to feel as if I hit the jackpot because he’s being so open?
Ever since we fucked so slowly and lovingly four days ago, he’s been exceptionally affectionate. He also took me shopping since his clothes are too small for me.
And yes, he totally introduced me to his grandads, his grandma, and his uncle and his wife after he invited them for dinner, which he cooked with his dad. The uncle, Aiden, is Levi 2.0 and even told me, “Listen, kid, you hurt my nephew and no one will know where you disappear to, got it?”
To which Levi smiled and nodded, so I told them, “I’m not fazed by threats, but I respect that, sir. I’ll do my best to get your approval as long as you don’t meddle between me and Bran.”
Aiden raised a brow at that and Levi grumbled and walked away, but I did catch a glimpse of my lotus flower smiling.
He’s smiling again now as we walk by a lake and pulls me to a wooden deck that overlooks the water. Sun reflects off the surface, turning it glittery. A few birds mingle around and this big fucking seagull squawks at me, and I swear he glares when I approach before he flies away, flapping his wings and throwing a tantrum.
Jesus.
Bran leans his forearms against the wooden railing and releases my hand to point at the vast lake. “The swans are here today, see?”
I try not to sulk like I’m twelve because he’s not touching me anymore as I park my back against the old wood and prop my elbows on the railing. I glance sideways at a few swans gliding on the water amongst some ducks.
“They’re not here usually?” I ask.
“They are, but they go to the other pond sometimes.” He smiles and I can’t help watching him.
He looks so fucking attractive in jeans, a polo shirt, and a casual jacket. His Prince Charming hair is in full stylish mode, but there’s something different.
It’s his expression.
It’s much lighter now.
These past few days, he’s been talking about himself and his family without me having to ask. He took me to his high school and to the places he used to frequent, usually with his brother or friends.
This is the last of them. Earlier, we walked up to a hidden nook that took us an hour and a half to finally reach. He said it was his secret spot and where he used to go to in order to clear his mind.
I didn’t miss how he revealed it to me when no one else knows about it. He seems to be much more relaxed around me, and unlike in the past, he doesn’t think twice about everything he says.
Except for when it comes to his wrist.
I try not to pry too much, especially after I promised him I’d wait, but I don’t like the look in his eyes every time we step out of the shower and he stares at his reflection as if he wants to destroy it.
But at least he doesn’t push me away anymore.
At least he hugs me to sleep and even gets annoyed if we pull apart during the night.
I never loved sleeping in a bed until him. And I tested it after we started falling asleep together. It doesn’t work without him. I’m still unable to fall asleep if he’s not there. He calms my demons in mysterious ways and I feel like I can be a lunatic and he’d still embrace me anyway.
All this time, I thought I’d rather free fall into a pit of violence and die in a crash than dedicate myself to one person. I really, really never considered myself monogamous. But it’s been so easy with Bran.
In fact, I became possessive of him early on—since I saw Clara’s claws on him—and I needed to have him all for my-fucking-self.
So imagine my fucking surprise when I realized I’m not opposed to commitment if it’s to him.
Some would argue I’ve been the one chasing him for that purpose from the beginning. If he’d stayed in the closet for another fucking decade, I would’ve probably shoved myself back in again if it meant being with him.
I’m that in love with this asshole. Who hasn’t been much of an asshole these past few of days.
Arms resting on the railing, he cocks his head to the side so that he’s watching me. “What are you thinking about?”
“You.”