Page 10 of Nikola

Yeah, this woman would be the end of me if I wasn’t careful. It was time I taught her a lesson. After all, it was years in the making.

“Pull that pretty little dress up for me and climb on.” I pointed my chin at the bike.

Her sharp inhale filled the space between us; the city sounds drowned out by everything happening in this little alley.

I was brushing her chest with how close we were standing, and her faint scent—a mixture of wildflowers and honey—gave me déjà vu of our childhood, running through the meadows as we laughed our heads off.

“Why?” she signed slowly, her expression that of a timid rabbit.

“Because I’ll do things to you you’ll never forget.”

A heartbeat stretched into infinity before she got herself together and signed, “You’re not the only unforgettable one.”

Against my better judgment, I pushed forward. I slipped a finger under her chin and tilted it upward, forcing her to look at me. My palm slid down the curve of her firm ass, squeezing as I pulled her closer to me.

I didn’t know what I expected, but surprise flared through me as her soft body complied. Her body was soft, smooth, and so damn tempting with those curves that she hadn’t bothered to hide today.

Her heat—or was it mine—radiated off our clothes, and I stifled a groan.

“We’ll start slow before you take off running, my littlezayka,” I murmured, my lips gliding down the side of her neck.

She inhaled a sharp breath, and before I could think better of it, I crashed my mouth against hers punishingly, resenting her for yielding to temptation.

Skye’s lips molded over mine, her soft moan—the first sound I felt from her—vibrating against me. It was our first kiss, but I knew it would also be our last, and something about that thought infuriated me.

So, my kiss turned brutal, with teeth and tongue, reminding her that I was in control. Again though, she surprised me. Her tongue met mine thrust for thrust, like we’d been fucking for years and knew each other intimately.

Her fingers fisted my shirt, drawing me closer. I bit her lower lip until I split it open, her warm, metallic blood trickling into my mouth.

Break the fucking kiss, zayka. I’m too much for you.

She didn’t. Instead, she kissed me harder. I pulled her entire lip into my mouth, and she let me. In fact, she seemed too eager for it.

I chuckled darkly at her stubbornness, putting more pressure on her lips, kissing her harder, tasting her blood and enjoying it all too much.

Because I was a sadist. Because she was too sweet. Because she was mine.

I was so hard, I knew I was in real danger of taking her right here in the alley, on top of my bike. As if she could read my thoughts, she straddled my thigh, grinding herself against me. Shamelessly. Wantonly. Unapologetically.

Just the way I fucking liked it.

And that was enough.

I tore my mouth from hers, brushing my thumb over her cheekbone. She stumbled forward, and I let her fall on my chest. I craned my neck back to stare up at the night sky, not knowing how she’d turned the tables on me or what I was thinking, ceding control.

She steadied herself and pulled away, blinking repeatedly as if to clear the fog in her head. Then she signed with a confused expression, “Why did you stop?”

Wasn’t that the million-dollar question? The problem was that Skye was innocent, a sheltered princess, and I was a reckless, irrevocably fucked-up man with deviant tastes who would end up hurting her. She deserved better.

“You can’t handle me,” I growled.

It was a lie—to her and to myself—because a dark voice whispered in my head that it was me who couldn’t handle her. I’d known it for a while, and instantly one specific memory flitted to the forefront of my mind.

Skye floated around the old castello courtyard like she was a princess who had stepped through time. The crystal blue waters surrounded one side of the castle while a forested hill and gardens lined the other. It was truly a fairy-tale place, although Skye mentioned once that her papa and his brother had a rough childhood here. Tragic beginnings were a running theme among our parents.

A laugh rang in the air and my gaze locked on its source to find it was Skye’s. She wore a long pink maxi dress, smiling graciously at everyone. But it was when she smiled at her parents and my uncle Sasha and aunt Branka that her expression glowed.

That girl loved them and would die for them.