Chapter 12 Nikolai #2
She lets her legs fall open, and the sight nearly undoes me.
Her pussy is flushed and swollen, glistening with wetness, her lips parted slightly in invitation.
I can see how aroused she is, how ready, and the knowledge that I did this to her, that her body is responding this way for me, makes possessive satisfaction surge through my chest.
I settle between her thighs, my hands stroking up the smooth skin of her inner legs, feeling her tremble beneath my touch. When I reach the apex of her thighs, I let my thumbs brush along her outer lips, and she gasps, her hips lifting slightly.
"So wet," I murmur, almost to myself. "So fucking wet for me."
I part her with my thumbs, exposing her fully, and the sight of her pink flesh, slick and swollen, makes my mouth water. I can see her clit, a tight bud peeking out from its hood, and when I brush my thumb across it lightly, her whole body jerks.
"Nikolai," she gasps, her hands fisting in the sand beside her hips. "Stop playing and get down to the business of pleasuring us both."
I do it again, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves, watching her face as pleasure washes over her features.
Then I slide one finger lower, through her wetness, feeling how hot she is, how ready.
When I press just the tip of my finger inside her, her inner muscles clench around me, and we both groan.
"So tight," I breathe, working my finger deeper. She's incredibly snug around even just one finger, her body gripping me, and I know I can't wait anymore.
I reach down between us, gripping my cock and positioning myself at her entrance.
The first breach of her body is overwhelming—tight, hot, wet, perfect.
I watch her face as I enter her, inch by slow inch, seeing pleasure flicker across her features.
She's so tight around me that I have to pause, let her adjust, even though every instinct is screaming at me to thrust deep.
I work myself deeper, slow and steady, until finally—finally—I'm fully seated inside her, my hips flush against hers. The sensation is so intense, I have to pause just to breathe through it, to keep from losing control immediately.
"Nikolai." My name on her lips is somewhere between a gasp and a growl.
Each thrust is deliberate, measured, letting her feel every inch of me, letting myself feel every inch of her. Her hands grip my shoulders, nails digging into my skin, and the slight pain only heightens the intensity of being inside her.
I increase my pace slightly, my hips snapping forward with more force, and the sound of our bodies coming together—skin on skin, wet and rhythmic—mingles with the crackle of the fire and the crash of waves.
She's making these small sounds with each thrust, breathy moans that drive me wild, and I can feel her body starting to tighten around me.
She reaches up to trace the serpent tattoo on my neck, her fingers following the ink down to where it disappears beneath my collarbone.
I capture her mouth in a kiss that tastes like desperation and promise, my hips moving faster, deeper, chasing the release that's building at the base of my spine.
I can feel her body tightening around me, her inner muscles clenching rhythmically, and I know she's close.
I reach between us, finding her clit with my thumb, and the added stimulation makes her cry out against my lips. I circle the sensitive bud in time with my thrusts, feeling her climb higher, her body tensing beneath mine.
"Come for me," I growl against her mouth.
Her body obeys, shattering around me with a cry that sounds like my name.
Her inner muscles clamp down on my cock, pulsing and fluttering, and the sensation is so intense that it triggers my own release.
I thrust deep one final time and let go, groaning as I empty myself inside her, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through me.
For a moment, we're suspended in that perfect space where nothing exists but the two of us, joined completely, lost in sensation and emotion too powerful to name.
We lie tangled together afterward, my body still covering hers, both of us breathing hard. The fire crackles beside us, and the ocean whispers against the shore, and for this moment, nothing else exists. No empire. No enemies. No past or future. Just us.
I roll onto my back, pulling her with me so her head rests on my chest, right over my heart. My fingers trace lazy patterns along her spine, feeling the delicate bumps of her vertebrae.
We fall silent, the exhaustion of the day and the intensity of what just happened pulling us toward sleep. I watch the stars wheel overhead, feeling Aria's breathing even out against my chest, and allow myself to relax and fall asleep.
When I wake before dawn, the sky still dark but beginning to lighten at the edges. Aria sleeps on, her dark hair fanned across the sand, one hand still resting on my chest like she's claiming me even in unconsciousness.
I trace the line of her spine with my fingertips, feeling her stir against me, and my body responds with an urgency that hasn't diminished despite last night. When her eyes flutter open, dark and warm with sleep, something in my chest constricts painfully.
"Good morning," she murmurs, her voice rough with sleep in a way that makes heat pool low in my stomach.
I don't answer with words. Instead, I pull her beneath me, needing to claim her one more time before reality intrudes.
But reality does intrude.
Afterward, she falls back asleep in my arms, trusting and unguarded, and guilt twists in my chest like a blade. And that's when I hear it.
The sound cuts through the distance—the rhythmic thump of helicopter rotors.
Aria's eyes widen as she turns toward the ocean, where two helicopters appear on the horizon, growing larger with each passing second.
"Nikolai?" Her voice trembles. "Is that…?"
"Rescue," I finish, the word tasting like betrayal.