Nikolai had always been captivated by birds. Their elegant wings, the way they soared effortlessly through the sky-it was a kind of beauty that never ceased to amaze him.
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He often watched them from his window, imagining what i...
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THIRTY TWO
The room was thick with heat, the air heavy and saturated with the aftermath of your shared intensity. Feathers scattered across the bed, mingling with damp sheets, creating a chaotic mess that perfectly reflected the wild night you'd just endured. Your body felt like jelly beneath the blanket draped over you, every nerve ending buzzing with exhaustion. You inhaled deeply, your chest rising and falling with each ragged breath, trying to steady yourself after six relentless rounds.
Your gaze drifted to Nikolai, cuffed to the headboard, his wrists raw and reddened from where the metal restraints pressed into his skin. His white hair clung to his forehead in sweaty strands, tears of overstimulation lingering in the corners of his mismatched eyes—one half-lidded, the other concealed by his disheveled eyepatch. Despite everything, he grinned lazily, looking utterly satisfied, as if the chaos of the night had been exactly what he'd needed.
He had been the one to suggest, after the third round, that you take control. And you had—perhaps too well. Now, with the two of you lying in the aftermath, it was clear that dominating him had worked better than either of you expected.
You shifted under the blanket, your wings fluttering slightly as you propped yourself on your elbow to get a better look at him. His pale skin was marred with crescent-shaped nail imprints, bite marks, and faint red lines trailing over his collarbones and ribs. Each mark was a testament to how far things had gone, evidence of the intensity that had built up between you.
"Sorry... I might've gone a bit too rough there, Kolya," you murmured, your hand gliding gently across one of the bite marks on his shoulder. The contrast between the tenderness of your touch now and the wild passion from earlier was almost jarring. You traced the indents of your nails along his chest, a soft apology lingering in your voice.
Nikolai hissed softly at the contact, the sharp sensation still fresh, but it was followed by a breathless chuckle. "It's fine, Dovie." His lips curled into a mischievous grin. "I like them."
His words sent a flush of warmth through your already overheated body. Typical Kolya—finding joy in pain, reveling in the marks you'd left behind as if they were medals of honor. His gaze flickered with a mixture of fondness and amusement, his head tilting slightly as he observed you with that familiar chaotic glint in his eye.
"You really didn't hold back, did you?" he teased, his voice a bit hoarse from all the sounds he had made throughout the night. "I must say, I underestimated how much you'd enjoy playing the villain."
You rolled your eyes, feeling a mixture of satisfaction and embarrassment at his playful words. "You asked for it," you shot back with a small smirk. "Don't act so surprised."
"Oh, I'm not complaining." He stretched lazily, the cuffs rattling against the headboard as he tested their hold. "I didn't think you had it in you, but you proved me wrong." He grinned wider, his tongue flicking over his lips. "Consider me impressed, my little tyrant."
