Deadly Desires

Breaking tradition

I hope to fucking God you all enjoy this chapter because I did not enjoy having to edit it.

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I walk into Nikolai's bedroom, looking around. He has a penthouse and I can see all of New York from the floor-length windows he has taking up two walls. He told me his favourite colour was green but I'd have to wonder if it was black.

The walls were black and his furniture was a dark oak colour that reminded me of tree bark. He didn't have much furniture, just a bed with two bedside tables and a desk.

He didn't have any pictures or posters to decorate the walls just shelves of books and plants. He had a lot of plants. I wondered if he, a sociopathic killer, stood here every day and watered these plants just the right amount they needed to grow.

"Why is it so minimalist?" I ask him, turning around to look at him. He's watching me in the door frame, he looks tense.

"I like it to be quiet." He replies, looking around, likely trying to see his bedroom from my eyes. I understood what he meant, he didn't want noise or distraction in this room. It was a safe space for him.

And I was standing in the middle of the room. I wanted to ask him what I was doing here. Once we had broken the kiss he had hailed a cab and asked me to come back to his apartment.

Sex was implied but never said out loud.

"Why am I here?" I asked him, looking at the flashing lights of a city that never seemed to sleep.

Nikolai lets out a short breath, "That is entirely up to you, Poison. I know what I want from you."

Heat coursed through my body, shooting down my stomach and between my legs. I was nervous and afraid, I knew he wasn't. He was just waiting to see what I was going to do.

I caught his gaze from the reflection, he seemed tense and a little agitated, "What is it?" I asked him.

I watched him swallow in the reflection of the windows, "You'd be the only woman I had sex with in my bed." 

"How so?" I questioned.

"I always go to their houses or we satisfy each other in the backseat of cars, or we have sex on my couch. Never my bedroom, never my bed." He replies calmly.

"So why am I standing in your bedroom?" I asked him, turning back around to face him. The air between us crackled with tension. So palpable it scorched my skin.

"You illicit more emotions from me than anyone I've ever met before, those women mean nothing to me. It seems almost wrong for you to be treated the same way as them when you mean so much more." He said, eyes fixed on mine.

It was the closest I imagined a psychopath could ever get to a love confession.

"I want to see it, how it's healed. Your scar." I said softly, walking towards him. He smirked a little before he began to slowly unbutton his shirt. He was going agonizingly slow and I was convinced he was doing it on purpose.

Everything Nikolai did was calculated and planned, even his impulsive decisions had some sort of thought behind them.

It was dark in his bedroom, the sky was not lit up with the stars or a moon and neither of us had turned on a light. The only source of lighting came from the hallway and the flashing lights of the city outside.

But I could still see him, well. He was strong and healthy. His stomach was toned and carved out with abs, his arms were stronger than I had imagined. His suits didn't do him justice.