Ice & Prejudice

Chapter 59

Ria's POV:

The rain still clung to our clothes as we stumbled through the door of my apartment, our lips never parting. Nikolai's hands were everywhere-cupping my face, sliding down my back, gripping my waist as though he couldn't bear the thought of letting me go. My fingers were tangled in his damp hair, pulling him closer, as if I could fuse us together with the sheer force of my need.

He moved with purpose, lifting me effortlessly as I wrapped my legs around his waist, clinging to him as he carried me into my apartment. The door slammed shut behind us with a resounding thud, but it barely registered over the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. His mouth was insistent on mine, our kisses deep and frantic, as if we were both desperate to make up for lost time.

In a rush, he pinned me against the door, the solid wood cool against my back, a stark contrast to the heat simmering between us. Every kiss, every touch was a plea, a promise. I could feel the hard lines of his body pressed against mine, and it only fueled the fire raging inside me. I had never felt this way before-so completely out of control, yet so certain of what I wanted.

Nikolai's hands slid under my sweater, his touch sending shivers down my spine. But just as I was about to lose myself completely in the sensation, he pulled back, his forehead resting against mine as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Victoria," he murmured, his voice husky with restraint, "I want you. God, I want you so badly, but I'm not going to rush this. Not tonight."

I blinked at him, confused and frustrated. "Why not?" I asked, my voice trembling with the intensity of my desire. I could feel the heat pooling low in my belly, the ache that only he could satisfy. "I want you too, Nikolai. Please..."

He groaned softly, closing his eyes as if he were in pain. "I know you do. And that makes this even harder. But I need you to know that this isn't just about sex for me. I need you to trust me, to trust that I'm here for more than just your body. I want us to take our time, to do this right."

I could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he was fighting against his own desires for my sake. It made my heart ache in a way I wasn't prepared for. He wasn't just saying the right things-he meant them. He was doing this because he cared about me, because he wanted to build something real between us.

His words were like a balm to the wounds I'd carried for so long, and I found myself nodding, even as my body screamed for more. "Okay," I whispered, trying to steady my breathing. "I trust you."

He smiled then, a slow, sexy curve of his lips that made my pulse quicken. "We'll take baby steps," he promised, his voice dropping to a low rumble that sent shivers through me. "I'll help you, Vic. We'll go slow, and I'll be right here with you."

His hands moved to the hem of my sweater, and he looked at me, waiting for permission. I nodded, biting my lip as he gently pulled it over my head, leaving me in just my bra. He did the same, stripping off his shirt to reveal the sculpted lines of his chest, broad shoulders, every inch of him as perfect as I remembered.

He guided me to the bed, his hands gentle but firm as he laid me down. My breath hitched as he sat beside me, his eyes dark and intense as he looked me over. I felt vulnerable under his gaze, but at the same time, I'd never felt more alive.

"Take off the rest," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You can stay in your bra and panties."

I hesitated for a moment, the last vestiges of insecurity flickering in my mind. But the way he looked at me, with such reverence and need, made me feel beautiful, wanted. Slowly, I shed the rest of my clothes, lying back on the bed as I let him see me, all of me.

"Fuck," his breath hitched, and I could see the struggle in his eyes, the effort it took for him not to reach out and touch me. "You're so beautiful, Victoria. So fucking beautiful."

He stood then, shedding his own clothes until we were both bare, the cool air of the room mingling with the heat between us. But instead of joining me on the bed, he knelt beside it, his eyes locked on mine.

"We're going to take this slow," he said again, his voice a rough whisper. "I want you to touch yourself. I want to see you, just like this."

I felt my cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coursing through me. But there was something in his gaze, something so commanding and sure, that made me want to obey. Slowly, hesitantly, I began to move my hand down my body, feeling every curve, every line.

Nikolai's breath caught, his eyes never leaving mine. "That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice like velvet. "I want you to feel good. I want to see what you look like when you let go."

I closed my eyes, letting his words wash over me, guiding my movements as I explored my own body under his watchful eye. Every brush of my fingers against my skin felt heightened, more intense with him watching. And as I lost myself in the sensations, I could hear his breathing grow heavier, matching the rhythm of my own.

When I finally opened my eyes, I saw him mirroring my actions, his hand moving in time with mine. The sight of him, so raw and unguarded, sent a jolt of electricity through me. I wanted him so badly, but more than that, I wanted this connection, this trust we were building.

My eyes dropped to his body and I noticed something black on his shoulder. Ink. Does he have a tattoo on his back? My eyes dropped lower. And I saw his lenght.

Fuck, he was big.

There's no way that thing is going inside me. Nah-ah.

Nikolai's eyes darkened as he watched me fasten my speed, he matched mine, his voice rough with need. "You're perfect, Vic. So fucking perfect. Don't hold back. I want to see you come undone."

His words were my undoing. With a soft cry, I let go, the pleasure washing over me like a tidal wave, leaving me trembling and breathless. And as I came down from the high, I saw him reach his own climax, his eyes never leaving mine.

He leaned down, gave me a soft forehead kiss before rushing out, giving me a glimpse of his tattoo. It was a black skull with a sword pierced through the top of the head, a serpent circling the sword and skull. And some lightining streaks from the top. It was spectacular.

When he returned he had some tissues in his hands and gently cleaned both of us up. Then he helped me dress back up, while he did the same. Finally he plopped down next to me, pulling me against his chest, into his arms as we both calmed down, our breathing returning to normal.

For a long moment, we just lay there, catching our breath, the air between us charged with the shared intimacy of what we'd just experienced.

"You did so good, baby," he whispered, pressing a kiss to my temple. "I'm so proud of you."

I nestled closer to him, feeling safe and secure in his arms. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could really trust someone again. Nikolai had shown me that he was willing to be patient, to earn my trust step by step. And for that, I was willing to let my guard down, to give him a chance.

Eventually we watched a movie, then got started on dinner. And it turns out he is really good at cooking Italian. He literaly made the best spaghetti bolonaise, with substitude meat, of course. Together with a delicious Caprese side salad.

And I found out I liked having someone like Nikolai beside me. I liked spending time with him, talking to him, even just cooking next to him, although tonight I didn't have to do much. It was...nice.