Ava
When we finally step inside the hallway leading up to our bedroom, Nikolai shifts slightly, carefully setting me down on my feet.
His touch lingers on my waist longer than what most would consider necessary, but to me, it’s nowhere near enough.
“Thank you” I murmur, my voice soft as I clear my throat, carefully trying to balance most of my weight on my good foot. “For the lift” I clarify, and he smiles. My heart combusts. Fucking dimples. “And for the date”
As far as first dates go, tonight was one the best I’ve ever had, granted it was the only one I’ve ever had but still, it was amazing. Nikolai managed to check every box on my imaginary list of honourable first date activities, even the ones I didn’t know I had.
And yes, even with the car breaking down and forcing us to walk home, I doubt any other date will come close to topping this one anytime soon.
He nods once, the smile on his lips stretching as his freaking dimples deepen. That’s twice in the last forty-eight hours that his dimples have decided to make an appearance, and I don’t think my poor heart can take anymore.
“You’re welcome Solnyshko”
In most romcoms, right now would be the exact moment Nikolai would lean in and kiss me, and by the look in his eyes, I can see the thought isn’t far from his mind.
But my life isn’t a romcom and maybe I’m thinking too much in the wrong direction
He steps closer, his presence overwhelming in the best possible way. My breath catches in my throat as he moves his hand from my waist to gently tuck a strand behind my ear.
“You’re staring” I whisper, my voice teasing yet barely audible. My mind wills me to be the first to break eye contact but I don’t look away. I can’t. His green eyes hold me captive and his hand by the door keeps me steady.
“So are you,” he murmurs, his lips curving into a faint smirk, but his voice is softer now, his words almost undetectable.
A slight heat throbs in my veins and my tongue darts out to wet my suddenly dry lips. Nikolai traces the movement with his eyes, his gaze darkening.
If Nikolai were to kiss me now, it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve kissed, but it would be the first time that I actually craved his lips on mine like a woman starved for her next breath.
I wait for him to move, to take the first step and claim my lips like he always did but he doesn’t. He just stands there, watching me, his gaze roaming over my face, my eyes, my nose, my lips and then, as if he’d been knocked out of whatever trance he was in, he steps back, giving me space that, for the first time, I don’t need.
“I should let you rest,” he says, his voice a little rougher. His smile fades into something softer, almost apologetic. “Your ankle needs time to heal, Solnyshko”
Disappointment surges through me, but I try my best to push it down.
“You’re not sleeping in the bedroom tonight?” I ask and he shakes his head.
“No,” he replies lowly. There’s something in his tone that makes my chest tighten, but I can’t quite place my finger on it. He takes another step back, clearing his throat “I have some work I need to attend to.”
“And you can’t do it tomorrow,” I cringe at how whiny I sound.
Am I really trying to get my husband to stay so that he can kiss me? My gaze flickers to the bow of Nikolai’s top lip and something hot flashes between my legs. It seems I am.
“I won’t be here tomorrow”
Something snaps inside me like an annoying twig you didn’t know was in the way until you’ve stepped on it.
“You’re leaving?” I ask, my voice sounding every bit of disappointed as I felt. We just got back and he was taking off again?
Nikolai nods, his eyes unreadable. I try not to let the weight of disappointment crush down too heavily on my chest.
“I see; well, goodnight and thank you for the date. It was nice”
He opens his mouth to respond but I don’t stick around long enough to find out what he has to say. I push open the door and slip inside, quickly shutting the door behind me before collapsing against it.
Once safely inside, I let my forehead press against the cool wood, my chest rising and falling in uneven breaths as I struggled to gather my thoughts.
Nikolai was leaving me. Again. The weight of disappointment crushes my windpipes with each breath I take in and release.
This is ridiculous.
I don’t even like him. At least I don’t think I do.
Sure he was a gentleman all evening and managed to surprise me with how thoughtful he can be when he chooses to, but that doesn’t change the fact that Nikolai infuriates me. He’s stubborn and impossible to read.
So why did I feel this way? Why did it matter to me so much that he was leaving tomorrow?
I turn so that my back is pushed against the wall, exhaling shakily. Without even realising, my fingers fly to my lips, which are burning with the insistent need to be pressed against his.
He wanted to kiss me. I’d seen it in his eyes. The way he looked at me screamed it; his gaze begged me to give him a taste, but for some reason, he’d stopped himself, pulled back right before he got too close and stepped away from me before I could touch him.
In all the times we’ve, Nikolai has never, not once hesitated to take what he wanted. But tonight he did.
He stopped himself, and if he hadn’t if he had kissed me like I knew he wanted to, would it have felt like his usual kisses, or would it have felt different?
The thought swirls my mind, sending a subtle thrill up my spine and I press my fingers harder against my lips.
I shouldn’t be thinking about my husband in that way. I shouldn’t crave his touch like I do right now surrounded by the darkness of his room.
I shouldn’t want the things I want him to do to me in the dark when our clothes are off, and our bodies are touching, creating friction in the most delicious way and yet I do.
I want him to kiss me, and tonight, I found myself craving the feeling of his mouth against mine more than I wish I could admit.
And I knew that Nikolai shared the same sentiment.
Tomorrow, I won’t get to see him again, and if the last time was any indication, I have no idea when-or if-he’ll be back.
The realization that I don’t want Nikolai to leave at all slams into me, fierce and unrelenting, like a wave crashing against the tide.
I want him to stay. I want him to stay here with me.
The thought barely has time to register in my mind before I’m spinning around and wrenching the door open.
To my surprise, Nikolai is still standing there when I unlock the door.
He blinks at me, thick lashes casting shadows over his sharp cheekbones as surprise washes his features.
His gaze roams my face, accessing me, “What’s wrong?” he frowns “Do you need…”
I don’t give him a chance to finish his sentence before I grab his arm, pull him inside and lock the door.
The door clicks shut behind us, the sound punctuating the charged silence that suddenly fills the room. Before I can second-guess myself, I push Nikolai against the door, my hands pressing firmly into his chest.
My smaller frame is nothing compared to his towering figure, but at this moment, it doesn’t matter that I have to tip-toe on my swollen ankle to reach him.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice now an aching rasp. I can sense the tension simmering just beneath his words, and my gaze drops to his throat, where his Adam’s apple bobs in anticipation.
My lips suddenly feel dry and I swipe my tongue over them before lifting my gaze to Nikolai’s lips, then his eyes and then to his lips again.
Nikolai makes a sound deep in his throat, his stance relaxing slightly as his hands fall to my waist just as my lips press to his. His grip tightens around my waist pulling me into him with a half growl, half groan.
In the times we’ve kissed I’ve learnt that there’s nothing quite like kissing Nikolai. It feels euphoric like I’m being transported into a world where nothing else exists except for him and me.
My fingers tighten around the nape of his neck, pulling him down to deepen the kiss and that singular action alone is what causes him to snap.
He spins us around so that I’m the one with my back against the door, his towering frame cages me in. His hands, slide down my sides, igniting a trail of heat through the fabric of my dress as they make their way down my body before lifting me by my ass so that I can wrap my legs around him.
He presses his body into me and In this position, the pressure I placed on my swollen leg to reach his lips, eases and I tighten my thighs around him, releasing a moan as he nips lightly on my bottom lip, gently tugging the flesh between his teeth before releasing it with a low moan of his own.
Nikola’s lips are so soft and warm, demanding me to open for him when his tongue probes against the seam of my lips. I part them without hesitation, granting him access as he strokes my mouth with his tongue sending a wave of shivers crashing through me as he deepens the kiss.
My husband kisses me like he can’t get enough and needs more all at the same time. It’s mind-warping. Too much and yet not nearly enough.
I run my hands up and down his body, fisting the lapels of his jacket before shoving it off his shoulders. He groans, ripping his mouth from mine, momentarily pulling away, which allows me the opportunity to completely shove the fabric to the floor. His jacket lands with a light thud just as his lips start to skate along my jaw, planting hot open-mouthed kisses along my neck.
My head falls back against the door with a soft thud as a breathy moan escapes me. His teeth graze the sensitive skin just below my ear, and I shudder in response, my fingers clutching the back of his shirt, desperate to hold on to something as the world tilts all around me.
“Nikolai” I gasp, my voice trembling with a mixture of urgency and desperation when his tongue swipes against my skin.
His name on my lips seems to awaken something inside him and he grips my thigh tighter.
“I fucking love it when you say my name like that,” he murmurs against my skin, his breath hot and unsteady. “Do you have any idea the things I’ve wanted to do to you since I saw you in this dress?” He asks, and I bite my lip, shaking my head. He chuckles darkly, lips brushing against my neck and his fingertips digging into my flesh. I tighten my hold around the back of his shirt desperate to cling to something.
“I love tasting you”, he husks, timing it with a well-articulated roll of his hips against my centre. A moan so loud it almost sounds strangled slips out of me and I tighten my fingers around his shirt.
“Nikolai,” I pant, “Please” Kiss me? Touch me? Don’t leave me? “Don’t stop”
He pulls back just enough to meet my eye, his gaze searching. There’s a tenderness in his gaze that wasn’t there before and it startles me. He slants his mouth over mine again without giving me much time to process and I instantly melt under each tempered stroke of his tongue.
This kiss is slower, more patient, he takes his time exploring my mouth, coaxing the sounds from deep inside of me, like the way a skilled musician would play their most beloved instrument and in turn I respond with every ounce of pent-up need that’s been simmering inside me from the moment he lifted me in his arms and carried me home.
His hand moves, sliding up my body and gently wrapping around my throat. I suck on his tongue and he releases a shuddering breath, pulling away with one final press of his lips.
“I have to go” he rasps against my mouth as if the words physically hurt him to say.
His forehead rests against mine as we both struggle to gasp for air. The air between us is charged with our desire and it feels like my heart is going to explode.
“I don’t want you to go,” I murmur. Those words are terrifying to say out loud, but it’s how I feel, and apparently, I’m too dizzy from our to give a fuck.
I don’t want him to go.
The corner of his mouth curves slightly and he leans in to press a kiss to my lips softly.
“I know”
He helps me down his body and I’m careful not to press too much of my weight on my foot when my legs touch the ground again.
“When will you be back?”
“In two days”
Two days. Two days doesn’t seem so far.
“Okay,”
Nikolai presses one last lingering kiss to my forehead before slipping out and leaving me grappling with my senses.
I can wait two days to see him again. And maybe, just maybe, by then, I would’ve figured out why I feel so disappointed that he won’t be here when I wake up tomorrow morning.