Chapter 2
Nadya
I NEVER UNDERSTOOD why hotel rooms insist on this specific shade of defeat.
Walls the color of over-chewed gum. Carpet a dull beige.
The queen-sized bed sat under a sheet so thin you could read a ransom note through it.
Out of the two lamps on both sides of the bed, only one was on, casting everything into a depressively dim light.
The only other piece of furniture was a stubby desk, already collecting takeout menus, crumpled receipts, and a pen.
Somewhere deep inside, I knew this was just me seeing everything bad. Blame the weather. Time to pretend I was happy in hopes I’d convince myself of that.
Nick stood by the window, thumbs hooked in his jeans pockets, backlit by the orange blur of a parking lot.
His jaw was all hard lines and five o’clock shadow, and his shoulders still had that squared-off military set.
The way he watched me, though, the way I kept feeling like he saw way too much. .. Ex military turned cop, maybe?
I toed off my boots, ignoring the nervous energy ricocheting inside my skull.
“So,” I said, because it’d be a miracle if I let a silence live for more than five seconds. “Are you going to get naked or do I have to do it for you?”
Nick tilted his head, a tiny smirk on his lips, then finally, finally, he started pulling off his shirt, revealing a buffet of muscles. Yum. I wanted to lick every single one.
Instead, I whistled. “I see you’ve been keeping up with the gym selfies.”
“Not for social media.” He let the shirt fall, arms crossed over his chest. “Too many prying eyes.”
“Oh, yeah.” I flopped back onto the bed, arms stretched over the white sheets, “You’re a deep cover op, secret agent man?”
He stood at the edge of the bed, looking at me like a puzzle, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Something like that.”
He unfastened his belt and let his jeans fall. His boxers tented with an impressive erection. If he knew how to use that thing, it might not even matter that I wasn’t drunk. I could definitely forget myself on that massive tool.
Before he could try to take my clothes off, I started on it myself, pulling the sweater and the shirt off together. Not the sexiest move to rush like this but having someone undress me was a sure way to ruin all the fun.
I threw my bra at his head, just for the hell of it, then shimmied out of my jeans.
It wasn’t until I was down to my black silky panties that I noticed Nick still hadn’t blinked.
He was looking at me like I was some lost treasure he stumbled upon.
His eyes couldn’t decide what part of me to land on.
“Fuck,” he muttered, but he didn’t pounce. Good. Very good.
The faintest pulse of nerves prickled my neck as I took my panties off.
I shouldn’t be nervous. Nick was absolutely perfect so far.
Not too pushy but clearly appreciative. And damn, was he an eye candy or what, especially now that I could see the scars on his shoulder and chest. A gorgeous, patient warrior.
He sat on the bed, still not rushing me. Before I had a chance to second-guess it, I climbed into his lap, straddling his thighs. His palm pressed flat against my lower back while the other hand slipped up, tracing the tiny circular scar next to my nipple. He didn’t comment. Points for him.
“So.” He took his time with the word, like he wanted to uncork every possible meaning. “How will you take advantage of me?”
“I want you to devour me while I ride your face. You won’t need air when you can breathe me, right?”
He nodded, a tiny, approving tilt, then grabbed my hips tighter and scooted us to the middle of the bed, until he could lie down.
I knelt above him, knees bracketing his ears, the whole world compressing into his hot, hungry breath on my skin.
Nick’s hands stayed on my hips, and though I could have held my own weight, he took it for himself, guiding me down with the least pressure possible.
Like he expected me to buck at the first sign of him taking control.
Maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn’t. It was nice, though, the way he waited for my cue.
I pressed my palms into the headboard, which wobbled theatrically like a third-rate motel set. I was grinning before I meant to. “Is this your kink? Letting girls smother you to death?”
“Only the ones that taste this sweet,” he murmured, and then his mouth landed on me.
The first contact was featherlight. He just breathed, lips parted against my core, making me hyperaware of his every exhale.
When his tongue pressed in, it was all I could do not to grind against him immediately.
He licked me slowly, patiently, teasing until my thighs ached.
I rocked my hips, just a little—testing, not yielding. He responded by pulling me down harder.
Both of us caught the rhythm at once, creating sparks of pleasure strong enough to kill a lesser person.
I rolled my hips and Nick groaned into me, hands flexing their grip, like he was trying to memorize every inch of skin. My balance slipped for half a second—just enough for him to break contact and look up at me, his jaw slick and his eyes dark.
“More,” I told him, breathless.
He grinned, then his tongue dragged wide and flat where I was most desperate, so deliberate I wanted to scream at him for being too slow.
I braced myself, twisting a fistful of his hair for leverage, but he just kept going until my hand trembled and my thighs locked up.
The world tunneled down to the pressure of his mouth, the scrape of teeth, the stubble burn on my inner thigh.
I nearly lost my grip, panting so hard I sounded like I’d run a marathon.
Fuuuuuck, the way he sucked my clit into his mouth...
I let my whole weight go. He took all of it, unflinching, and devoured me until my hips buckled once, twice—god. Pleasure exploded through me, tore my world into millions of blinding lights.
I almost collapsed off him, but Nick caught me with those gorilla arms, rolling me onto the mattress like a priceless vase. He grinned at me but didn’t even try to push for his own fun, just held my bare thigh and waited.
“You okay?” he asked, thumbing a red splotch on my hip where his fingers had dug in, almost like he cared that he had marked me.
“Give me... a second...” I gasped.
He’d want me to return the favor, of course, and maybe I didn’t mind it so much with him. I... Oh hell, I kinda wanted to kiss him first.
So, I did — all teeth and tongue, tasting myself and whatever clean, shadowy flavor he carried. His stubble scraped against my chin, but I didn’t care. This right here was what I needed to forget about everything my life was or could’ve been. With this one kiss, all my ghosts vanished.
I nipped his lip, then moved lower, licked the sweat from his neck, chasing the salt down to his chest, down the cable of rigid abdominals, and finally his cock. He’d better not try shoving it down my throat. There was no way I could take it.
My tongue circled the head first, tasting the bead of precum before I took it in my mouth.
Sometimes with men, there’s a desperation in it—a tightness in how they guide my head.
Nick just let go. He lay back, let me climb over him, so my ass was in his face.
He only reached down to pull my hair from my face and held it in place, not pulling but keeping it on my back.
His free hand caressed my butt, and his thumb grazed my clit.
It’s possible I was showing off. A little.
I couldn’t help it — he made me want to be better.
I took him into my mouth, slowly, then faster, then slow again, searching for the hitch that would tell me how he liked it.
There it was—a shudder in his leg, the smallest grunt.
I squeezed him between my tongue and the roof of my mouth, just to see if I could actually make this man lose control.
I could. He shuddered hard, the pulse in his thighs going wild, and I felt a savage little curl of satisfaction.
He lost it, but not the way I thought he would. He hauled me higher until my core was over his face and attacked me with that devilish tongue.