Chapter 49 – NIKOLAI #3
"Fuck," I snarl, looking around frantically. "Need lube."
Raven makes a sound of frustration, trying to pull me back. "Don't care, just?—"
"I'm not fucking hurting you," I snap, my voice harsh with the effort of maintaining control. I reach for my discarded coat on the floor, searching the pockets. Thank fuck I actually have a condom in one of the inside pockets, one of the lubricated ones.
"That fucking coat," Raven mutters, and I can hear the eye roll in his voice even as his hands keep trying to pull me back to him.
"Shut up," I growl, tearing the foil packet open with my teeth and rolling it on. The lube isn't ideal, but it's better than nothing. I flip him over onto his hands and knees, ignoring his whimper of protest at the delay. "This angle will be easier. Trust me."
He goes quiet at that, the fight draining out of him as he settles into position.
His hair spills across the dark sheets like golden silk, and I take a moment to just look at him.
I should need to picture an omega right now.
A female omega. It would be easy enough from this angle, with all that golden hair.
But I don't need to.
I don't want to.
I want Raven. Even if I know everything I've fought so hard to build is going to come crashing down after I let myself have him.
I line myself up, one hand gripping his hip, the other guiding my cock. The first push is met with resistance, his body tensing despite his best efforts.
"Breathe," I murmur, leaning over to press my lips to his shoulder blade. "Just breathe, little bird."
The old nickname slips out before I can stop it. His whole body shudders in response, but he relaxes enough that I can press forward, slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until I'm fully seated inside him up to the edge of my knot.
"Fuck," I groan, my forehead dropping to rest between his shoulder blades. "Raven..."
"Move," he gasps, pushing back against me. " Please ."
So I do. I start slow, careful, but it doesn't take long for his desperate pleas to drive me faster, harder.
My fingers dig into his hips hard enough to bruise as I fuck into him with increasingly reckless abandon.
His moans drive me wild, each sound like a direct line to my cock, making me harder, more desperate.
I'm already going to hell for this. For taking the one good, decent, innocent thing I've ever done and twisting it into something else.
Might as well go all the way.
I straighten, gripping both his hips now, and withdraw almost completely before driving back in with a force that makes the bed frame creak in protest. Raven's fingers twist in the sheets, knuckles white, a string of curses and pleas falling from his lips as I set a ruthless pace.
I watch, mesmerized, as my cock disappears into him again and again, the sight making my blood burn hotter. His thighs tremble with the effort of holding himself up, and I run my hands down to feel the quivering muscles, marveling at the strength it must take to endure this without collapsing.
He moans desperately, the sound vibrating through his entire body.
I feel it where we're connected, that pulse of pleasure traveling up my spine like lightning.
I drag my nails up his sides, leaving faint red lines in their wake, and he arches further, pressing back into each thrust with desperate need.
I'm close—too close—but I refuse to finish before he comes again. I bend forward again, one arm braced beside his head, the other reaching around to grasp his cock. It pulses in my palm, hot and slick, and I match the rhythm of my hand to the increasingly erratic snap of my hips.
When he comes a second time with a hoarse cry of my name, his body clenching around me, I follow him over the edge.
My release hits like a freight train, white-hot energy searing through every nerve ending.
I feel the base of my cock swelling, the beginning of a knot that has nowhere to go, but I push anyway, instinct overriding reason.
Raven yelps, his body clenching around the intrusion, and for a moment I think it might work, might actually lock us together.
But he's not built for it, no matter what that brothel tried to make him into. The angle's wrong, the physiology all wrong, and after a moment of resistance, the swelling recedes, leaving us both panting.
I pull out carefully, disposing of the condom before collapsing beside him on the sweat-soaked sheets. Neither of us speaks for a long moment, the only sound our ragged breathing gradually returning to normal.
Finally, Raven shifts, turning to face me. His eyes are clear, the fever that had gripped him finally broken. "You know what's fucked up?" he asks quietly. "I think this actually worked."
I grunt in response, not trusting my voice just yet. My mind is already racing, cataloging all the ways I've just irrevocably fucked up everything. All the lines we can never uncross.
Because despite what he thinks, he isn't just a sliver of my world. He's more of it than I ever realized until this moment. Until I feel it all starting to crumble around me.
"Hey." His hand on my cheek startles me. "Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"The self-flagellation. I can see it in your eyes." His thumb traces my cheekbone, a gesture so tender it makes my chest ache. "This wasn't your fault. I wanted it. I've always wanted it."
I grab his wrist, pulling his hand away from my face. Can't handle that tenderness. Not now. "It's not that simple."
"It could be," he insists, those blue eyes searching mine. "If you'd just?—"
"No," I cut him off, my voice harder than I intended. "Go to sleep, Raven. Just… go to sleep."
I can see the argument brewing in those stormy blue eyes, but whether it's exhaustion from the fever finally receding or the hazy satisfaction of what we just did, he doesn't fight me on it. For once.
It doesn't take long for his breathing to fall into the measured rhythm of sleep. He moves closer, burrowing against my chest, and I don't have the heart to push him away. Not until I'm sure he's out.
I sit up, running a hand through my hair. The reality of what we've just done is setting in already, heavy and inescapable. I've done a lot of terrible shit in my life. Killed more men than I can count. Betrayed, stolen, destroyed.
Hell, I walked away from my own blood. Walked away from my father's empire, determined to build my own even if it cost me my damn life.
But this…
This is the only thing I know I'll never be able to forgive myself for.