Chapter 17
ADRIANNE
Three days.
That’s how long it had been since Nikolai walked out of this basement. Since his lips left mine. Since Alexei interrupted what might have been the biggest mistake of my life.
The guilt sat heavy in my chest, a weight I couldn’t shake no matter how many times I told myself I’d done nothing wrong. I was the prisoner here. He was my captor. If anyone should feel guilty about what happened, it was him.
But the look on his face when he’d left? When I’d sided with Alexei?
That look haunted me.
I’d hurt him. Somehow, impossibly, I’d managed to wound the man who’d kidnapped me, who’d locked me in a basement, who’d called me his prisoner to his own cousin’s face. The man who was supposed to be a monster.
The same man who’d kissed me like I was the oxygen that saved him from drowning.
“Stop it,” I muttered to myself, standing up and pacing the small room. “Stop thinking about him. Stop caring about him. He doesn’t deserve it.”
But my traitorous mind kept circling back. To the way his hand trembled when he’d checked my injuries. To the vulnerability in his eyes before he’d armored himself against me again. To the taste of vodka and something darker on his lips.
My body was wired with the need he left behind.
The feel of his hands on my skin, the desperate craving in his touch, the hunger in each one of his kisses. I found the days passing by with nothing but the man who kidnapped me on my mind.
In my dreams, he’d be here, kissing my body, making me moan in pleasure. And then, I’d wake up to a cold bed and a shameful bead of sweat running down my neck.
How could I crave him so much?
“Cold shower, Adrianne,” I said to myself, jumping off the bed towards the small bathroom and flicking the water on.
The high window above the shower told me that soon the night would settle, and I’d be all hot and bothered again, with dreams I’d never had before. Daytime was hard, but I could rationalize my way off that ledge and kick myself for thinking about him in a sexual way.
But those vivid dreams? They were pornographic and unstoppable.
I stripped from the hoodie I’d kept on wearing because there was still a faint scent on it that reminded me of Nikolai, before discarding the rest of my clothes and stepping under the spray.
There was no way I could handle a cold shower, but maybe the warm one would relax me and stop my mind from wandering off to where it definitely shouldn’t. Like, that muscled chest. The veins on his forearms. The taste of his tongue and how amazing it felt against mine.
Before I knew it, my hands were caressing my skin, pulling on a nipple, and relishing in the pain it left after releasing. The sound of the water and the doors between us should be enough for the guard not to hear the embarrassing moans that came out of my mouth.
Maybe if I could give myself an orgasm like he’d done in that cabin, I could finally relax and put these thoughts to rest.
He’s a handsome man with all the allure necessary to bring any woman to her knees. That’s all there is to it. Physical need. Energy release. That’s it.
I pulled the shower head off of the stand, hovering it over my sensitive breasts for a second, before settling it where the ache burned hotter. The jets of water hit me right on the clit, the gasp that left me revealing of the tension bundled between my legs.
“Oh, God,” I moaned, steadying it against my pussy again while my head spun at the exhilarating feeling that flooded my chest.
The pressure was absolutely perfect. My free hand braced against the tile wall, my legs already trembling as I adjusted the angle, chasing that building sensation that Nikolai had introduced me to in the cabin.
His name slipped from my lips before I could stop it, doubling the pleasure coursing through me. “Nikolai…”
I squeezed my eyes shut, remembering the way his fingers had felt inside me, the way I craved to feel all of him inside me. The memory alone made me ache worse. It made the spray of water feel weak compared to his touch.
But it was all I had.
My breathing grew ragged, small whimpers escaping as I moved the showerhead in slow circles, my hips rolling to meet the pressure. I was close. So close.
“That’s it, chase it.”
My eyes flew open, my heart stopping as I saw him through the foggy glass.
Standing there in the doorway, his eyes locked on my silhouette through the shower door. He didn’t move. He just watched with an intensity that made my breath catch.
“Don’t stop.” His voice was rough and commanding, connecting to the same spot that ached for his touch. “Keep going, moya babochka.” My butterfly.
Shame burned through me, making me pull the showerhead away immediately.
“I said, don’t stop.” He moved closer to the shower door, his hand coming up to rest against the glass, while the other palmed his cock over his pants. “Show me. Show me what you do when you think about me.”
“How did you know I was…”
“Because I’ve been doing the same thing.” His other hand moved to his belt, unbuckling it with deliberate slowness. “Three days of trying to stay away from you. Three days of my hand being the only thing keeping me from breaking down that door and finishing what we started. So don’t you dare stop.”
Oh, God.
My hand trembled as I brought the showerhead back between my legs, the spray hitting my clit at just the right angle. A moan tore from my throat, louder than before, because he was watching me now. Because he wanted me to keep going.
“That’s it.” His voice dropped to a rasp, coaching me through my embarrassment. “Let me hear you.”
Through the foggy glass, I could see him palm himself through his pants again, the hard line of his erection straining against the fabric. He pulled himself free, and even through the distorted glass, I could see how big he was. How hard.
My mouth watered at the sight, even though I didn’t have a clear view.
“Nikolai…” His name came out as a whimper.
“I’m right here.” He stepped closer until he was pressed against the glass, his hand flat against the surface. “Put your hand where mine is.”
I did, my palm meeting his with only the glass between us. The connection, even despite the barrier, sent electricity through my body.
“Good girl. Now make yourself come for me. Let me watch you fall apart.”
I adjusted the pressure, my hips rolling faster now, chasing that peak while his eyes devoured every movement.
“Fuck, look at you.” He was stroking himself now, his fist moving in steady, deliberate strokes. “So beautiful. So perfect. Are you close, Addy?”
“Yes,” I gasped. “So, so close.”
“Then come. Come for me. Let me see it.”
The command, the desperation in his voice, the sight of him pleasuring himself while watching me.
It all crashed together. The orgasm ripped through me like lightning, my knees buckling as I tried to breathe, but no air passed through my throat.
My hand stayed pressed against the glass, over his, as if that connection was the only thing keeping me grounded.
In the haze of my pleasure, I watched him through the foggy glass. His strokes became more erratic, his breathing harsh. His forehead pressed against the glass, his eyes never leaving mine as he chased his own release.
“Adrianne,” he groaned, my name sounding sinful on his lustful lips.
Nikolai came hard, his release hitting the glass between us, staining the barrier that separated us. His hand stayed flat against mine, his chest heaving as he rode out the waves, and I settled from mine, closing my eyes to try and find my bearings again.
When I could finally breathe again, my eyes opened, the window above the shower displaying a face looking directly at me, witnessing this moment.
I screamed, and Nikolai’s gaze settled right where mine was, but whoever was watching had run away now. Before I could stop him, Nikolai was running, pulling his clothes back into place as he left me there panting in fear, but mostly in the aftermath of whatever the hell had just happened.