Nikolai
I run a hand through my damp hair, then push the short locks into submission. Goddamn Rush. Goddamn everything. A pulse of dark intent pounds through my veins. I could kill.
I look at Rose, so lush and fresh, even with the bruises, but what irks the shit out of me is how she laughed with Rush, how when I came in, there was a lightness to her.
A lightness, until she saw me. She looked at me and the joy, that ease, dulled.
My irritated look hardens on her. She’s wearing my favorite shirt, and she’s butt naked beneath. It would’ve ignited heat in me on any other occasion, but not with Rush getting an eyeful too. He saw more of Rose than I’d like. As much as I loathe it, I’m going to have to leave her clothes in her room from now on.
But fuck she looks good. Maybe I should tattoo my initials on her. Fuck, yes; I could get behind that. Then again, I’m not sure I want to mar all that pristine flesh with a tattoo, even with the appeal of her permanently labeled as always and forever mine.
She isn’t, though.
Today’s a full day, extra full because I spent the moments between showering, dressing, and coming down here adding more to my list.
Now, Rose is staring at me with anger pinching her brows, like I’ve ruined her day with my words or my presence. Maybe both. “If I’m ruining all your plans, throw me back, Nikolai.”
“Throw you back?” I ask, taking a step closer. “To where? Your father? The man I rescued you from?” Rose doesn’t back away like I expect, and I know she can feel the blaze of my anger at her and Rush doing…whatever the fuck they were doing.
No, she holds her ground and raises her chin. “Back to my life,” she says. “Just…return me.”
I take her in, head to toe. She doesn’t even quiver, and it’s costing her, but she holds it, holds her own. Her face… There’s fire there, blazing, in her eyes, her voice. She’s getting bolder, and I’ve a mind to undo my belt, loop it around my hand, and beat that hot little ass of hers.
Last time I spanked her, she got so fucking wet. My cock starts to stir.
“Do you want a spanking, Rose?”
She sucks in a breath. There’s the slight quiver, but it isn’t fear. No, it’s need, and it makes my cock start to stiffen. “I want to go home.”
“Do you now?”
She swallows but doesn’t move. “Yes.”
She’s looking at me differently. The soft, moony-eyed little girl with a crush is there, but she’s not front and center. This is a young woman with backbone and flame in her veins. Steel.
Oh, fuck. It’s hot. Hotter than sweet Rose. This Rose has sharpened thorns, and when she learns how to dip them in poison? When she learns how to twist metaphorical knives with intent? That’s a woman I could obsess over, more than I am now. That’s a woman I might think of keeping longer.
I want to meet that Rose. I’m not going to, though. She’ll be long gone by the time she ever gets to that point. Who am I kidding? There won’t be enough of her left to become that, just all the broken shards of what might be.
Collateral fucking damage.
It is what it is, no matter what minuscule softness she managed to stir in me when she whispered my name. It’s not real, and even if it was, it wouldn’t matter. She’s here because I have a job to do.
I take one step towards her. “Not happening.”
“Fuck you.” There’s a wildness that comes with those rush of words, a wildness that’s fear, excitement, a taunt. She doesn’t step back, and her tits rise and fall, little stiff, peaked nipples poking at the material of my shirt as she does so.
“Hankering for punishment?” She doesn’t answer, but her gaze glitters a little more, her breath erratic. I look at her again, really look at her.
What…?
Oh. Fuck.
“Rose. You want me to put you over my knee and spank you, don’t you?”
My words hang there. She’s crossing all sorts of lines, and I think I know which one she’s aiming for. Really, I should kill her for that. I won’t, though.
But punishment…
“Fuck you, Nikolai.”
“Fuck me? You know you don’t get away with saying shit like that to me, right?”
“I said. Fuck. You.”
“You know I could kill you for that. However, I think my little Rose wants a spanking. She’s asking. Begging.” I pause. “That it?” Her eyes get a little unfocused as her lips part, and my cock gets harder, bigger. “Yeah, you are. You want the good kind of pain, don’t you, Rose?”
Sidling closer, I brush against her, and her soft gasp tells me she feels my erection. Good. She wants it. Wants me. Wants whatever I decide to do, no matter what her mouth might say. Her fire was always there, but when I got her back…yeah, that was gone. But now? It’s back, embers stoked and flames flickering higher than ever. I’m glad it wasn’t snuffed out.
Rose is fucking made for those flames.
I trace her lips, then tease open the top buttons of my shirt on her. “Never said you could wear fucking clothes, Rose. We have rules.”
“You want me to let your cousin see me naked?”
I take one of her breasts, palming it, squeezing. “You flash your fucking body to anyone without my permission, and I’ll punish you. The bad kind.”
She flinches and the fire dips low. I curse myself. Wrong fucking thing to say. I let her be taken. It’s my fault that I didn’t come up with a better plan on the run, a plan that didn’t entail her being hurt by Finnegan, or having that sick fuck Lugo trying to finger her. It pulls at me, twists something in me that sends sharp pain surging.
“Maybe,” she says, “my clothes will fall off, and what are you going to do then, Niko?”
An arrow of electricity shoots straight through me at that. I narrow my eyes and pull my hand free. Then I grab her face and back her across the library, right into the desk. She’s breathing hard, fast, uneven; her eyes begging, demanding, challenging.
Fuck, she’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s almost like little Rose was made for me.
“You want to play games, Rose?” I push her back. “That it?” I catch her as she stumbles, hold her. I’m not letting her fall. If she goes down, it’s going to be to her knees, to service me.
She bares her teeth. It’s like a shot of pure lust. “You don’t scare me anymore.”
“Liar.” I take hold of her face again. She swallows, but the defiance is so vibrant, so electric, it dims the fear I see. Her skin is that warm silk I can’t seem to get enough of, and she needs to be naked. Now.
I release her face, her hips, and, shoving the shit on the desk to the floor, I push her down on her back. She stares up at me, the challenge bright, but the need brighter. It’s in me, too. I grab my favorite shirt with both hands and wrench it in two, buttons flying. Fuck it. I can get another. I prefer what’s under it. What’s under it is perfection: warm, wet, lush Rose.
Her thighs are wet, right at the top at that little gap. Her cunt…the moisture clings to her outer lips, too. I part her thighs so the view’s better. I drink her in, the splay of her legs where I stand between them, her hooded clit, the soft swelling of her need, that sweet musk of her arousal.
I need her.
“Nik-”
“Shut up, Rose.” I come down over her, taking her mouth, silencing her properly in an open mouthed, hot, erotic kiss. So hot and wet, her tongue eager, lips soft and clinging.
Christ, her mouth gets better and better with every taste. She mewls and for a moment, when her hands come up, I think she’s going to push me away, but she doesn’t. She pulls me to her and deepens it, with more passion than finesse, and that’s hotter than someone who knows what they’re doing, really doing. When Rose learns that, she’s going to be the most dangerous thing on the planet, way more dangerous than she already is.