Isabella's POV
Nikolai was a hungry beast. My body was on fire. I was scared, but my body wasn't going rigid and freezing up. Instead, I was responding to him. His savage kiss. He was devouring me to the point that I couldn't breathe, and his hold was so strong. I barely pushed to breathe a little as his lips trailed down my neck, giving me open-mouthed kisses.
I was still trying to catch my breath when the knock came.
It startled me, and I jumped slightly before shoving him away with force as he stumbled back slightly. His thick brows drew together in anger as he glared at me as if I had taken his favorite candy from him while he was devouring it.
There was another knock. Too casual. Too normal. Like it hadn't interrupted the kind of kiss that ruined the air between us, left my lips swollen, and his hands still trembling with the effort not to tear my clothes off.
I'm thankful to whoever was at my door right now. My eyes widened as panic suddenly kicked in, and I jumped off the counter, only to fall because my legs were jelly. Nikolai grabbed my arm as he helped me to my feet, but I was losing my mind as I fisted his shirt and yanked him down.
"Hide... Just hide quickly. It could be Mia or Jerry. No one else visits me. So go-"
"I'm not going anywhere." He said plainly, and my jaw slacked at his audacity.
"Are you crazy?" I gritted. My knees were still soft from what we'd been doing on that counter just seconds ago.
"I am." He rasped and began to walk towards the door, and my heart stammered.
"They'll find out about us-"
"It's not them." The way he said it made my heart skip a beat.
Not Mia or Jerry. Then.... Who could it be?
It's not them.
I tried to stop myself from having a panic attack.
He leaned in closer.
His breath touched the shell of my ear.
His hand cupped the side of my neck as he noticed the shift in my demeanor after his words.
Another knock.
My pulse jolted.
He didn't release me. He just whispered against my ear, voice low, dangerous.
"Stay behind me."
I didn't argue. I couldn't.
Nikolai walked over to the door as he opened it with the kind of controlled violence only he could pull off. The street light spilled around his body, outlining the cut of his shoulders, the ridges of his abs through the shirt, the tension coiled in his stance.
A man stood outside with a cap pulled low, holding a pizza box.
My breath hitched before I took in a shaky breath.
"Delivery for… uh…" The guy checked his phone. "1203?"
Niko didn't blink. "This is 1201."
The guy nodded quickly, looking startled by the sight of a half-shirtless man built like sin and murder. I didn't notice, but I had accidentally tucked his shirt, ripping three of the front buttons. His gaze flicked behind Nikolai straight to me.
That was a mistake.
Because Nikolai's hand shot up so fast, I flinched. He fisted the pizza guy's collar, dragging him half a step backward before the man yelped.
"You have three seconds," Niko hissed, "to turn around and walk away before I break your f-"
"Nikolai!" I gasped, my voice cracked sharply in the air.
I hurried to them and grabbed his arm, making him let go of the poor guy.
The pizza guy stammered, "S-sorry! GPS always messes this up, my bad, my bad-"
Nikolai shoved him back, hard enough that he stumbled.
But not hard enough to hurt him. Not physically, at least.
Emotionally? The guy would probably have nightmares.
He sprinted down the street just like me when I escaped Nikolai's office, as if my ass was on fire.
Nikolai slammed the door shut.
The sound echoed through me, vibrating down my spine.
"You didn't have to scare him to death," I whispered.
He turned to me slowly.
His eyes were still dark, blown wide with possessiveness, fury, and the remnants of the kiss that had nearly undone us both.
"He looked at you," he said, voice low, guttural. "I don't like when men look at what's mine."
My breath left my body in a rush. He sounded obsessed.
He had no right to say things like that.
He had no right to look at me like that, like I belonged under him, over him, on his tongue, anywhere he wanted me.
God! What am I even spouting?
But God… he did want me.
His jaw flexed.
He took one step toward me.
Then another.
"I'm not yours," I said, but the words sounded weak even to me.
"You will be," he murmured.
He lifted his hand, touching my cheek gently, almost reverently, such a contradiction to the violence he'd shown seconds ago.
"You're shaking," he said.
"You kissed me," I whispered back, voice unsteady. "And then threatened a pizza guy."
His mouth curved in that dark way that made my stomach flip. That sinister smirk.
"If you think that kiss was the part that should scare you, little dove… You really don't understand me yet."
I swallowed hard.
The air grew thick again. Heavy. Charged.
A coil of heat settled low in my belly, tightening with every step he took closer.
"Let's get some sleep," he said suddenly.
Sleep?
How?
Wait...
I blinked. "Sleep?"
He didn't answer. He just… moved.
One second, I was standing there confused.
Next, he was lifting me off my feet.
Effortlessly.
Like I weighed nothing.
"Mr. Volkov! Put me down—"
I gasped, my body jerked, and my eyes widened when he spanked me.
"Call me Nikolai," he mused, seeing my rigid reaction as he took two stairs at a time, making me cling to him.
"Not happening." I gritted, and he spanked me again so hard that my butt stung.
He adjusted his grip, one arm behind my knees, the other gently soothing my burning ass. "You're exhausted. And you're not sleeping alone tonight."
"I wasn't planning to sleep with you."
He smirked darkly. "You don't get a vote."
I bristled. "You don't get to make decisions for-"
His voice dropped. "You wriggling in my arms is not helping your argument."
I froze.
In one swift move, he tossed me in the air before catching me in a way that my legs wrapped around his waist, and I grabbed his shoulder to balance myself.
His breath brushed my cheek, warm and steady.
"You feel that?" he whispered.
And oh God...I did.
His hardness...
There was no hiding what I was doing to him.
My face burned.
"Stop wriggling," he murmured, voice thick with warning. "Or I'm going to pin you to the nearest wall, and we're not sleeping at all tonight."
My entire body went still.
He carried me to my bedroom like that, my heart hammering, his arms wrapped around me, the air between us molten and unbearable.
When we reached my room, he didn't hesitate.
He lay me down gently on my bed, but his hands lingered, one on my waist, one sliding a strand of hair away from my face.
Then, slowly, pulling back, he pulled off his shirt.
My lips parted.
The hard planes of his chest caught the dim bedroom light. The scars across his skin, earned and old, looked almost beautiful in the shadows. I don't recall that he had scars when we got intimate that night. His muscles flexed as he tossed the shirt onto a chair, then leaned over me.
"Nikolai…" I whispered.
"Yes, bella?"
"You can't just… stay here."
"I can." He slipped into the bed. "And I will."
He pulled me into him before I could protest, his body warm and solid, his arm sliding around my waist, tugging me back until my spine met his chest.
I could feel everything.
Every breath.
Every heartbeat.
Every inch of him.
Too close.
Too dangerous.
Too intimate.
"This is a terrible idea," I breathed.
"This is the first good idea I've had in years."
He buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling me like it soothed something feral in him.
"You smell like you're mine," he murmured, half-asleep already, fingers tightening on my hip. "Don't fight me tonight, Isabella. Just… stay."
My throat tightened.
This was the part of him that scared me more than the anger, more than the violence, more than the obsession.
The softness.
The aching, unguarded need he tried so hard to bury.
I lay stiff for a long moment, my mind racing, my heart pounding so loud I was sure he could feel it against his chest.
Then...
"Isabella," he mumbled, voice thick with sleep, "stop wriggling… you're making me hard."
My entire body went rigid.
His arm tightened around me.
And then, finally...finally...he went still.
His breathing deepened.
Evened out.
Softened.
He fell asleep holding me like I was something precious he couldn't let go of.
I stared into the dark.
My heart felt like it was being torn open from the inside.
Because the worst part wasn't how close he was.
Or how right it felt.
Or how safe I suddenly was in his arms.
The worst part was...
I didn't want to pull away.
I didn't want him to let go.
And I didn't know what terrified me more:
The fact that Nikolai was obsessing over me.
Or that I was starting to like it.