16. Nicholas

CHAPTER 16

Nicholas

I woke up to the unfamiliar warmth of another body pressed against mine, the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back grounding me in a way I couldn’t explain. My usual restlessness, the ache in my shoulders, even the nagging anxiety that came with waking up somewhere new—it was all gone.

Markus’s arm was draped over my waist, his hand resting with an easy grip, loose yet steady, like even in sleep he was anchoring me. I stared at the faint morning light filtering through his blinds, the soft shadows playing across the ceiling, and let myself breathe it in.

It had been years since I’d felt this safe. No, scratch that—I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt this safe.

My chest tightened, the thought prickling against my usual defenses. Safe wasn’t something I could afford to lean on. Safe was fleeting, a crack in the armor before everything fell apart again. But here, wrapped in Markus’s warmth, it felt like those cracks weren’t as sharp as I thought.

I wasn’t expecting any of this—a night like last night, a man like Markus—but it felt... right. And that terrified me.

His arm shifted, his fingers brushing against my hip as he stirred. I turned my head slightly, catching a glimpse of him, still half asleep, his hair mussed, jaw slack in a way that made him look almost boyish.

The corner of my mouth twitched. Ridiculous, really, how he could be so solid and commanding one moment and soft the next.

“Morning,” I murmured, unsure if he’d hear it.

A low, sleepy hum escaped him. His grip tightened slightly before he rolled away, stretching out and sitting up. The bed dipped with his movement, the warmth of him slipping away like sand through my fingers.

The room felt colder without him near me.

He rubbed a hand over his face, muttering something under his breath, and then he glanced my way, his expression shifting into something polite. Too polite.

“Did you sleep okay?”

I pushed myself up, propping on one elbow, watching him carefully. “Better than I have in... well, ages, honestly.”

He nodded, his gaze flicking away, landing somewhere near the edge of the bed.

The knot in my chest tightened. Something was off.

“What about you?”

He stood, pulling on a pair of sweats from a nearby chair, his movements slower than they had been last night, like he was lost in thought. “Yes, I’m fine.”

Fine. That useless, empty word. Fine never actually meant fine. I’d used that word so many times in my twenty-four years, I knew that to be true.

My stomach sank. This was the part where I got booted, wasn’t it?

The rational part of me knew it wasn’t fair to jump to conclusions, but years of practice had trained me to read the signs. Politeness, distance, a carefully neutral tone—it all screamed one thing: time to go.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, reaching for my jeans. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

Markus turned sharply, his brows knitting together. “What?”

“I get it,” I snapped, yanking my jeans on. “No need to do the whole awkward morning-after thing. You’ve been a perfect gentleman, and now I’ll make this easy for you.”

“Nicky.” His voice softened, but I wasn’t in the mood to hear it.

I reached for my shirt, my fingers clenching the fabric. “No hard feelings, really. Thanks for... whatever this was.”

The bed creaked as he moved closer. Before I could react, his hand was on my arm, firm but gentle, stopping me.

“Why are you leaving?”

I blinked, his question catching me off guard. “Because... you obviously want me to.”

His brow furrowed deeper, confusion flashing in his eyes. “What gave you that idea?”

I gestured toward him vaguely. “The way you’re acting. Distant. Polite. Like you’re trying to figure out how to let me down easy.”

He sighed, his shoulders relaxing as his grip on my arm loosened. “Nicky, that’s not—no. That’s not what’s happening.”

I folded my arms, defensive even as my heart tugged at the sincerity in his tone. “Then what is it?”

Markus hesitated, his gaze searching mine. “I was... in my head. Trying to figure out how to ask you to stay without sounding desperate.”

I froze, the words sinking in slowly. “You... want me to stay?”

“Yes.” He stepped closer, his hand trailing down my arm before his fingers brushed mine. “I do.”

My defenses wavered, the softness in his voice undoing me. “Oh.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “You sound surprised.”

“Maybe I am,” I muttered, looking anywhere but his face.

He caught my chin, tilting my gaze back to his. “Stay.”

The word was simple, but the weight of it hit me like a punch to the chest. I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “Okay.”

Markus’s smile widened slightly as he leaned in, brushing his lips against mine. The kiss was tender, slow, filled with a quiet affection that melted every last shred of resistance I had left.

Before I knew it, I was pressed against him, his hands firm and steady on my hips as I let myself sink into the moment. It was too much, all this softness and affection, but somehow not enough.

My knees hit the floor, the rough texture of the carpet scratching against my skin, and I tilted my head back to look at him. His chest rose sharply with a hitched breath, and I could see his pupils dilate, swallowing up the blue in his eyes. The pounding of my heart echoed in my ears, threatening to drown out all other sounds.

"Nicky..." His voice trembled on my name.

I pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "Don't."

He nodded.

My fingers brushed over the fabric of his sweats before slipping beneath it. "Just let me." I tugged his sweats down, watching them pool over his ankles. He was commando. His dick long and hard and thick, begging to be blown.

His fingers found their way into my hair, gripping tight as if he were holding onto sanity itself. A soft gasp escaped him, filling the silence of the room with its raw intimacy.

I tasted salt and musk as I took him into my mouth—an intoxicating mix that made me want more. His body tensed above me as I moved slowly at first, exploring with teasing licks and gentle nips until he was shaking.

As his grip tightened in my hair and a low groan rumbled from deep within him, I lost myself completely in giving pleasure to Markus.

My mouth moved along Markus’s length, tongue swirling around the head before plunging back down again and again and again. And then he came, his body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over him.

I swallowed him down greedily, pulling away only when I was certain I'd drawn out every last drop of his release. He looked wrecked. I did that. Wrecked him, made him lose his senses. The sight of him, the taste and smell of him, caused a rush of heat to course through my veins. And there I was, lost in a world of my own pleasure.

I reached down to stroke myself urgently, faster, faster until my balls drew up. My breath hitched. And then I spilled over my fingers, ribbons of cum, Markus’s name falling from my lips in a choked gasp that echoed throughout the bedroom.