Page 8

Chapter eight

Viktor

Viktor barely had a moment to breathe, the aftershocks of release still crackling through his body. Nick was a mess—panting, flushed, marked by their frenzy. And yet, despite everything, the bastard was still teasing him .

Something in Viktor snapped.

Before he could think, he had Nick shoved against the nearest tree, rough bark scraping against bare skin. Nick gasped, but Viktor didn’t care. Couldn’t. He was past the point of reason. This wasn’t about control anymore. It was about need. About proving something—to Nick, to himself.

His hand found Nick’s cock, gripping him with purpose, stroking hard.

Nick sucked in a sharp breath, body tensing, then melting, surrendering to the pleasure. His head tipped back against the tree, mouth parting on a low, sinful moan. Viktor felt it like a spark to dry tinder, his own desire roaring back to life.

At the office, Nick was a thorn in his side, a constant irritation, always knowing exactly how to push his buttons. Now, he was under Viktor’s skin in an entirely different way—shaking, desperate, undone by Viktor’s touch.

Viktor's gaze traveled down, taking in what he held in his hand. Nick's cock was like the rest of him—not the biggest Viktor had seen, but perfectly proportioned. It was straight where Viktor's curved slightly, the head flushed a deep pink, almost purple with need. A prominent vein ran along the underside, throbbing against Viktor's palm with each stroke.

Beautiful, Viktor thought grudgingly. He'd never admit it aloud, but Nick's cock suited him—elegant in its way, responsive to every twist of Viktor's wrist. Pre-come leaked steadily from the tip, slicking Viktor's movements, the scent of it sharp and enticing to his heightened senses.

Despite having just come himself, Viktor's cock stirred again, hanging heavy between his legs, not fully erect but far from satisfied. Each gasp that escaped Nick's lips, each involuntary thrust into Viktor's hand, sent blood rushing back to Viktor's groin. One round wouldn't be enough—not after years of tension, not with the way Nick's scent filled his nostrils, a maddening mixture of arousal and defiance.

Viktor tightened his grip, watching the muscles in Nick's stomach contract, the definition there more pronounced than he'd expected. Nick was all lean lines and hidden strength—no visible abs like Viktor's, but a fighter's body nonetheless. His nipples were hard peaks, goosebumps rising on his skin from the cool night air or from Viktor's touch—or both.

"Look at you," Viktor growled, his accent thicker with desire. "All that mouthiness, and now you can barely speak."

Nick's cock pulsed in his hand, a fresh bead of pre-come welling at the tip. Viktor swiped his thumb through it, spreading it over the sensitive head in circles that made Nick's hips buck forward involuntarily.

Viktor pressed closer, his own cock nudging against Nick's thigh, hardening again with each passing second. One taste of Nick hadn't been enough. Nothing about this would be enough. The realization should have alarmed him, but with Nick pinned against the tree, writhing under his touch, Viktor couldn't bring himself to care about the implications.

All he knew was that he wanted more.

Viktor leaned in, teeth grazing the shell of Nick’s ear. “This is what you wanted, yes?” he growled, voice thick with possession. “Tell me how much you need it.”

Nick whimpered, his hips jerking into Viktor’s fist, chasing more. His body answered before his mouth did, and fuck, that was satisfaction enough.

Viktor let out a low, satisfied chuckle. He had resisted for so long—resented Nick, fought the attraction, convinced himself he felt nothing but irritation.

But now, here they were.

Could've been here sooner, if they weren't both so damn stubborn.

Viktor's nostrils flared as he pulled back slightly, his enhanced senses catching every nuance of Nick's scent. God, Nick was drenched in it—in him. His come had dried on Nick's skin, marking him like territory. More of it was smudged on Nick's chin, obscene.

It all screamed one thing: mine . Viktor's cock hardened instantly, primal satisfaction roaring through him. This wasn't just sex anymore. This was ownership. This was Nick's smart mouth, clever hands, and stubborn attitude all wrapped up in Viktor's personal fragrance. Even hours later, any wolf would know exactly who Nick had been with, what they'd done. The thought sent liquid fire through Viktor's veins. One taste wasn't enough. He needed more—needed to cover every inch of Nick until the man couldn't wash him off for days.

"You're soaked in me," he murmured, his mouth hovering over Nick's throat, breath hot against the sensitive skin. "Inside and out."

He lowered his head, capturing Nick's left nipple between his lips, sucking it into his mouth as his fist worked steadily over Nick's cock. The dual sensations made Nick arch against the tree, a ragged moan escaping him. Even now, pinned and desperate, Nick couldn't help himself. "Jesus," he panted, head thudding back against the rough bark. "You always talk this much after you come?"

A growl rumbled in Viktor's chest, vibrating against Nick's skin. Insolent little shit. He squeezed Nick's cock just enough to make him jolt, his breath stuttering into a whimper.

Viktor released the nipple with a wet pop. "Only when I've got something worth talking about."

His tongue flicked over to the neglected right nipple, circling it slowly before closing his mouth around it. Nick's hips bucked involuntarily into his fist as Viktor sucked harder, his thumb simultaneously sliding over the slick head of Nick's cock.

Nick's laugh was breathless, barely there, when Viktor allowed him a moment to breathe. "Admit it," he rasped, eyes blown wide with pleasure. "You like me."

Viktor silenced him again, this time with a particularly wicked twist of his wrist combined with a sharp nip. He bared his teeth against Nick's flushed skin. Liking had nothing to do with it.

Still, the words hooked into something deep and stubborn, something he didn't want to name. Because Nick wasn't wrong—Viktor should've been done with him, should've pulled away the second his own pleasure faded. Instead, he was still here, delighting in each time Nick tried to speak and failed, reduced to incoherent sounds by Viktor's mouth and hands. He was cataloging every flicker of bliss on Nick's face, drinking in the way his body begged for more.

Heat coiled low in Viktor’s gut, sharp and undeniable. Before he could think better of it, he leaned in, lips dragging over Nick’s jaw, his tongue swiping over the remnants of his own release.

Nick gasped, body shuddering. “What the fuck—”

Viktor didn’t stop. He licked again, slow and deliberate, savoring the taste of salt and sweat, the sharp musk of sex. It sent a shiver through him, something primal, something deeper than just claiming.

Nick’s breath hitched, his next words shaky. “You are so—fucking—gross.”

Viktor laughed darkly, fingers tightening around Nick’s cock. “And yet,” he purred, stroking him hard and slow, “you’re still right here.”

Nick shuddered violently, his body arching, his lips parting on a moan—and Viktor’s tongue, lapping at his skin, brushed over them before he could stop himself.

The instant contact was a spark to dry kindling.

Nick’s breath stuttered. Viktor’s grip faltered for half a second. Their eyes met—hot, wild, charged.

And then Viktor was kissing him.

The kiss detonated like a bomb. Months of tension exploded into wet heat and desperate need. Their tongues slid together, fighting for control neither wanted to surrender. Viktor tasted everything: Nick's jagged breaths, the salt on his skin, that unexpectedly sweet flavor that was purely, intoxicatingly Nick. Each stroke of their tongues sent liquid fire straight to his cock.

He fisted Nick's hair, yanking his head back to plunder his mouth deeper. Nick's answering moan vibrated against his lips, the sound shooting straight to Viktor's core like a bullet.

Nick grabbed Viktor's shoulders, hauling him closer until they were pressed together from chest to thigh. The kiss turned savage, all teeth and tongue and bruising pressure. Their mouths separated only for gasping breaths before crashing together again, as if the brief space between them was unbearable.

Nick bit Viktor's lower lip hard enough to sting. Viktor growled, his hand tightening around Nick's cock in warning while his tongue pushed deeper into Nick's mouth. Nick clutched at his shoulders, nails digging in. Their tongues slid together, slick and obscene. Viktor wanted to consume him, to mark him from the inside out. He wanted Nick to feel the phantom press of this kiss for days, to remember the taste of Viktor's tongue every time he opened his smartass mouth at the office.

Who was this version of himself? This man who ground against Nick's hip with shameless need, who devoured his rival like a starving animal?

For months, Nick had needled him relentlessly—cutting remarks, smug smiles, a talent for slipping beneath Viktor's skin like a splinter. Now he was pinned beneath Viktor's body, writhing and gasping against a tree trunk, and the savage pleasure of finally claiming what they'd both been circling left Viktor burning for more.

Nick arched into him, panting between kisses, ever defiant even in surrender. "So," he managed, voice wrecked but still laced with that insufferable edge, "is this how werewolves always settle office disputes?"

Viktor growled against his throat, biting down just hard enough to make Nick gasp. “You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?”

Nick only laughed breathlessly, his hands sliding down Viktor’s back, nails raking just enough to make his muscles tighten. “Admit it,” Nick murmured against his ear, lips brushing hot and teasing, “you’d be bored if I did.”

Damn him. He was right.

With a growl, Viktor slid his hands down Nick’s sides, feeling the tremors of anticipation that ran through the human's body. Without breaking their kiss, he hiked Nick's knees up to wrap around his waist, lifting him effortlessly.

Nick's weight was nothing to his strength. The man's legs locked around him instinctively, heels digging into the small of Viktor's back. The new position aligned their bodies perfectly—cock against cock, skin to skin, nothing between them anymore.

Viktor rolled his hips, grinding against him. The friction tore a groan from deep in his chest. Despite having come twice already, he was fully hard again, his cock throbbing against Nick's straining erection.

He pressed Nick harder against the tree, one hand moving to grip his bare ass, supporting his weight. The bark would leave marks on Nick's back, more proof of this night, more ways that Nick would carry Viktor with him tomorrow.

With a low growl, Viktor hitched Nick's legs higher, adjusting his stance. The movement shifted Nick's weight, tilting his hips just so—and suddenly the head of Viktor's cock was sliding between Nick's cheeks, catching against his entrance.

The realization hit them both simultaneously. Nick's eyes flew open, meeting Viktor's with a look of such raw want that Viktor nearly lost himself then and there.

"God," Viktor growled, his cock pulsing at the direct contact with Nick's hole. "I could—"

He couldn't finish the sentence. His hips twitched forward involuntarily, the head of his cock pressing more firmly against Nick's entrance, not breaching but threatening to. He could feel the tight ring of muscle against his sensitive tip, the heat radiating from Nick's most intimate place.

Nick panted, eyes flickering with uncertainty for just a second. Then, that familiar smirk reappeared. "You're obsessed with me, huh?"

Viktor grabbed Nick's hips possessively, holding him close. He leaned in, breath hot against Nick's ear. "And what if I am? What are you going to do about it?"

Nick's smirk widened. "Let's find out."