15. Sienna #2
“It feels good, doesn't it? Exhilarating even?” he purrs, and liquid warmth floods between my legs. Because this is what Nikolai does, bringing the most feral parts of me to the forefront.
“Yes,” I say breathlessly, not even knowing this version of myself but wanting to explore more of her. Wanting to explore him. “What's it like to take someone's life?” I ask, surprised by my interest .
What sounds like a growl escapes his throat.
“It can be the best feeling ever, or sometimes it feels like nothing at all,” he says as he skims the tip of the blade down my throat, barely touching me, before resting it at the opening of my shirt. There’s an intoxicating challenge is in his gaze, as if he’s expecting me to pull away.
My heart pounds with both fear and a carnal desire I've never known. It consumes all of me, and the only way I stop myself from reaching out for him is by asking, “You don't think it's wrong?”
Because it is wrong, isn't it? It's the most basic thing we’re taught—murder is wrong. And I hate the way he entices me to think otherwise. Not because he's a good person, but because, fuck me, he makes it look so hot.
I'm really damning myself with these thoughts.
“No. It’s survival of the fittest,” he says as he begins slicing down the thin fabric of my silk nightshirt.
“I’ve had many people try to kill me, mishka .
There’s nothing quite like taking a life or fighting for your own.
It brings the animal out of you. That’s what I like—meeting my beast. Knowing who I am at my core.
” He cuts through the bottom of my shirt, and with ease, he flicks the knife to the side, the subtle thunk of the blade sinking into the dirt the only sound besides the wind in the trees.
His green eyes look menacing in the dim moonlight. “Want me to stuff you with my cock now?”
“Yes. ”
All my control snaps, and I thread my fingers through his hair as I pull him into me.
His lips crush against mine, and I release a needy little moan as he pinches my exposed nipple.
His other hand grabs a handful of my ass and squeezes hard, as if he can't get enough of me.
And all the while, his demanding tongue assaults my mouth.
I drag my nails down his neck, chest, and abdomen, coming to a stop at his belt. I make quick work of unbuckling it. He must be as desperate as I am, as he jumps in to assist by lowering his zipper, letting his cock spring free.
I drop to my knees, wanting and needing to make this man weak.
I look at his straining cock, with that perfect, thick vein running underneath, and then raise my eyes to meet his.
“Do you want me to suck your cock, Udav ?”
A guttural noise escapes him. “Are you trying to make me beg, mishka ?”
“I'm teaching you how to say please.”
The corner of his mouth curls up. “I can be an upstanding citizen with manners from time to time. Suck my cock, mishka . Please.”
My pussy throbs, and I take pleasure watching his expression as I dart my tongue out to lick the pre-cum on the tip of his cock.
He hisses, the light touch enough to fuel that fire in his focused gaze even more.
Then I widen my mouth for him, forcing my lips to strain over his girth, and do my best to take him as deeply into my throat as possible.
I refrain from gagging as I pull back and then push farther past my limits.
Tears spring to my eyes as I hasten my pace, unable to look away from the darkening of his eyes and the way his nostrils flare. The vein in his neck pulses rapidly beneath the ink as he cups the back of my head with a gentleness that surprises me.
It makes me feel powerful and admired that he will take what I'm willing to provide instead of forcing it.
“Fuck,” he curses in Russian. His hand moves from my head to curve around my throat as he pulls his cock out of my mouth.
“Your mouth is fucking amazing, mishka , but it's your cunt that I want to destroy. Stand up. Now.”
I do as he says, hooking my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts and pushing them down. He watches me appreciatively, especially when he realizes I'm not wearing any panties. I then remove what remains of my shirt hanging from my shoulders, letting it float to the ground behind me.
His gaze drinks me in, and I feel exotic. Valued. Seen.
That's a dangerous combination for someone like me, who has always tried to obtain those things in the spotlight. And I never thought I would find them in the dark with someone who is more predator than man .
“You're so fucking beautiful, mishka ,” he says, and my heart blooms.
He steps out of his pants, and my heartbeat races in anticipation. My gaze roams down his body, and I bite my bottom lip at the sight.
Fuck me, this man has been carved out of fucking marble. His body is a weapon. There's no doubt about that. But it's the challenge in his gaze that has me stepping closer.
“Fuck me like you promised to,” I whisper, the lack of volume not dulling the command.
“With pleasure,” he says roughly as he hooks both his hands under my legs and lifts me. I love how easily he picks me up and carries me. I'm so used to other men being intimidated by my height.
My back hits the rough bark of a tree, and I let out a chuckle.
“What's so funny?” he demands.
“I was just thinking that maybe one day you’ll fuck me on a soft mattress.”
He emits a low hum from his throat. “I don't think you want soft.” He kisses along my neck. “I think you want to be broken and dragged through all of your wild fantasies. Tell me, mishka , what do you want the most?”
We lock gazes, and I stop myself before I say you .
As if hearing the unspoken word that rests on my tongue, he kisses me ferociously, reminding me that this is all it can ever be .
And, fuck, does it taste good.
I align myself over his cock, and without warning, he forces me down, impaling me.
Bark scratches up my back as he thrusts into me like a madman.
He raises a hand to the tree beside my head, and as I follow the movement while being fucked within an inch of my life, I realize he's grabbed the handle of one of the embedded knives, using it as leverage as he fucks me harder.
Jesus Christ, this man is crazy.
But he can certainly do wilder things to my body.
I'm at his mercy, being consumed, and I fucking love it. I love forgetting about who I'm supposed to be. In this moment, I’m somebody I don't recognize. And most importantly, I’m getting off on the one man who knows how to set my entire body alight like exposed wires.
My nails dig into his back, demanding more.
“Harder, make me bleed,” he growls. I don't even question it. I put all my force into my nails dragging down the carved muscles of his back, marking him. He makes a guttural noise, encouraging me to do it again and again as his hips thrust feverishly.
His body encompasses me, as if I'm being devoured whole. I feel like a captured obsession, and I'm a fool for demanding more.
My orgasm begins to build, and I lean forward and bite him on the neck. He curses, jerking into me. And the moment I feel his cum release inside me, I break apart, wanting to milk every drop as I bite harder, silently demanding more.
This madness doesn't make sense in my mind.
But it only has to make sense to my body.
As my world comes apart, I fracture into somebody new.
I might not know who I’m becoming, but what I do know is that I will never be the same after Nikolai.