Page 9

Chapter nine

Nick

Nick couldn't breathe.

It wasn't just the weight of Viktor's body pinning him to the tree, or the way his massive hands gripped Nick's thighs, holding him aloft as if he weighed nothing. It was what had just happened between them—what was still happening.

Viktor had kissed him.

Not as a power play or to shut him up, but with a hunger that matched Nick's own. Their lips had crashed together like they'd been magnetized, drawn by some force Nick couldn't name or fight. And Nick, who'd spent months telling himself he hated this man, had melted into it like he'd been waiting his entire life for Viktor's mouth on his.

That realization terrified him more than anything that had happened tonight.

"Viktor," he gasped as their cocks slid together, hot and slick. Every thrust sent sparks racing up Nick's spine, but it wasn't enough. Nothing seemed like enough anymore.

Viktor's strength was intoxicating. The way he held Nick against the tree, legs wrapped around his waist, making Nick feel simultaneously helpless and completely safe—it was a contradiction that made his head spin. Nobody had ever made him feel this way: challenged but precious, dominated but desired.

Then Viktor shifted him higher, and everything changed.

The head of Viktor's cock—that massive, beautiful monster that had just been in Nick's mouth minutes ago—slipped between his cheeks and pressed against his entrance. Nick's eyes flew open, a strangled sound escaping his throat. The pressure was exquisite, teasing, the sensitive ring of muscle tensing against Viktor's cockhead.

A shiver ran through Nick's entire body. That cock inside him. Viktor inside him. The thought should have terrified him—Viktor was huge, and Nick hadn't done this in... God, he couldn't even remember how long. But instead of fear, all he felt was a desperate, aching want.

"Yes," he heard himself say, voice shattered beyond recognition. "Viktor. Yes ."

Something dark and hungry flashed in Viktor's eyes, something that made Nick's cock jerk hard between them. With deliberate slowness, Viktor raised his hand to Nick's face, pressing two thick fingers against his lips.

"Suck," he commanded, voice rough with need.

Nick didn't hesitate. He parted his lips, taking Viktor's fingers into his mouth, his eyes never leaving Viktor's. He swirled his tongue around the digits, tasting salt and skin, sucking hard enough to hollow his cheeks.

Viktor's pupils dilated further, his breath coming faster. "Good," he murmured, the approval sending a fresh jolt of pleasure through Nick's body. "Get them nice and wet for me, Nicky."

The nickname caused another unexpected flutter in Nick's chest. Nobody called him that, not even his family. From Viktor's lips, it sounded like both a taunt and an endearment at the same time.

When Viktor finally withdrew his fingers, they were glistening with saliva. Nick watched, breath caught in his throat, as Viktor reached down between them, never breaking eye contact. The first touch of those wet fingertips against his hole made Nick gasp, his body tensing instinctively.

"Relax," Viktor whispered, his voice gentler than Nick had ever heard it. "I've got you."

And somehow, inexplicably, Nick believed him. He let his body soften, surrendering to Viktor's touch as one finger circled his entrance, teasing but not yet breaching.

"That's it," Viktor encouraged, and the praise sent another wave of heat through Nick's veins. When had approval from Viktor become something he craved?

The first finger pushed in slowly, carefully, and Nick's breath caught at the intrusion. Viktor's fingers were thick, far more substantial than they had any right to be, and the stretch burned in the most delicious way. Nick's head fell back against the tree trunk, a low moan escaping him as Viktor worked deeper, past the second knuckle.

"God," Nick panted, his internal muscles clenching around the invading digit. "Your fingers are—fuck—"

Viktor's smile was predatory. "Too much?"

"No," Nick gasped, rocking his hips down to take Viktor's finger deeper. "More."

Something flickered in Viktor's eyes—surprise, maybe, or satisfaction. He pulled his finger back slowly before pushing in again, establishing a rhythm that had Nick squirming against the tree.

When Viktor added a second finger alongside the first, the stretch intensified, pulling a startled cry from Nick's lips. His body tensed again, muscles clamping down on Viktor's thick fingers. He forced himself to exhale slowly, focusing on the sensation of fullness rather than the burn. Gradually, his body yielded, accepting both fingers as Viktor thrust into him, stretching him with meticulous care.

It struck Nick then, with startling clarity, that Viktor—the man who'd made his working life hell for months, who'd threatened and manhandled him less than an hour ago—was being careful with him. There was still that edge of dominance, that wolfish control that seemed woven into Viktor's very DNA, but beneath it was an attentiveness Nick had never expected.

"You're opening up for me," Viktor observed, his voice a low rumble that Nick could feel in his bones. "Taking my fingers so well."

The praise sent a flush racing across Nick's skin. He'd never been particularly vocal during sex, had always found dirty talk somewhat embarrassing, but Viktor's words made his cock throb almost painfully.

Then Viktor curled his fingers, searching, and—

"Fuck!" Nick's entire body jolted, his back arching off the tree as Viktor's fingertips brushed against his prostate. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating outward. His cock jerked, another bead of precome joining the mess on his stomach.

A slow smile spread across Viktor's face. He pressed against that spot again, more deliberately this time, and Nick couldn't stop the high, desperate sound that tore from his throat. Nick wanted to make a sarcastic comment, to maintain some illusion of control, but all that came out was a broken moan as Viktor began massaging that bundle of nerves in slow, relentless circles.

"Listen to you," Viktor whispered, leaning in to brush his lips against Nick's ear. "Making such pretty noises for me."

Nick squeezed his eyes shut, embarrassment warring with pleasure as helpless whimpers escaped him with each press of Viktor's fingers. He'd never been particularly loud in bed, had always maintained some level of composure, but Viktor was dismantling his defenses one by one, reducing him to raw sound and sensation.

"Look at me," Viktor commanded, his free hand coming up to grip Nick's chin.

Nick forced his eyes open, meeting Viktor's gaze. The intensity there made his breath catch—Viktor was watching him with single-minded focus, cataloging every reaction, every flicker of pleasure that crossed Nick's face.

"That's it," Viktor encouraged as their eyes locked. "I want to see what I'm doing to you."

His fingers picked up speed, rubbing Nick's prostate with ruthless precision. The dual sensations—Viktor's fingers inside him and Viktor's gaze upon him—were overwhelming. Nick could feel himself spiraling higher, his cock leaking steadily now, untouched but so close to the edge.

"Viktor," he gasped, the name a plea. "I'm—I can't—"

Viktor made a low, satisfied noise, deep in his throat, and Nick felt that sound in his spine. The world tilted as Viktor thrust in faster, his other hand gripping Nick’s waist like he had every intention of holding on for dear life.

Nick had one last coherent thought—this is a terrible idea—before Viktor leaned in and bit his bottom lip, and oh. Oh. That was new.

Nick made an embarrassingly wrecked sound that Viktor would absolutely use against him later, but screw it, he was already halfway gone. Viktor kissed like he argued—relentless, smug, and determined to win.

Fine. He could have this round.

Just this round.

Probably.

Maybe.

Nick wasn’t sure when his hands had tangled in Viktor’s hair, but there they were, gripping tight as if letting go would send him crashing back into reality—into a world where this was a terrible, terrible mistake. But right now, with Viktor’s mouth moving against his like he wanted to claim him from the inside out, reality could go to hell.

Viktor must have sensed it, because he made a low, satisfied sound and bit at Nick’s jaw before trailing his lips down his neck. The scrape of teeth, the flick of his tongue—Nick’s entire body shuddered, his head knocking back against the tree. His breath came out in a stutter, and damn it, he should have some witty comeback, some sharp remark to reclaim some control.

But all that came out was Viktor’s name, dragged from his throat like a confession.

Viktor groaned, his grip tightening, and suddenly, Nick knew that he wasn’t the only one unraveling.

Viktor cursed, a guttural sound that was more growl than word. He withdrew his fingers suddenly, leaving Nick empty and clenching around nothing.

Nick whimpered at the loss, but Viktor's next move silenced him. With a desperate urgency, Viktor spat into his palm and reached between them, slicking his massive cock.

"Tell me to stop," Viktor demanded, his voice strained as he positioned himself. The blunt head of his cock pressed against Nick's loosened hole, hot and impossibly large. "Tell me now if you don't want this."

Nick could hardly breathe. The rational part of his brain screamed that this was insane—Viktor, the man who'd made his life a living hell for months, was about to fuck him against a tree in the middle of the woods. He should say no. He should push Viktor away and reclaim some dignity.

Instead, he tightened his legs around Viktor's waist and whispered, "Don't you dare."

Something flashed in Viktor's eyes—relief, hunger, something deeper Nick couldn't name. Then he was pushing forward, the thick crown of his cock breaching Nick.