NIKOLIA
There was something about this boy—something that kept me from walking away. I hadn't come here to take someone. My only objective was finding information about my missing cargo—twelve containers, worth over seventeen billion dollars. Yet here I was, tugging at my tie, my eyes trained on him—Tate.
Or at least, that's what he wanted to be called.
"Before we start anything, I think it's best we get to know each other first." My voice was calm, controlled, as I slipped my hands into my pockets and leveled my gaze on him. He was watching me with wary eyes, like he wasn't sure if he should trust me. Smart.
"How about we start with your name?" I added, keeping my tone neutral, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—hesitation, uncertainty.
"But you—"
"Your real name," I cut him off, watching the way his breath hitched, the way his chest rose and fell a little quicker now.
"How did you—"
"I didn't," I said with a small shrug. "You just don't look like a Tate." I stepped closer, watching as he took a reflexive step back, his body pressing against the wall. The air between us was charged, and I could feel the heat of his breath on my skin. My hand moved, fingers lightly grazing the skin of his waist, sending a tremor through him.
"Tell me," I urged, my voice dropping lower, more insistent. His cheeks flushed, and his lips parted slightly, as if he was struggling to get the words out.
"Claude," he whispered, and I smiled. It suited him better.
"Claude," I repeated softly, savoring the way it rolled off my tongue. "That's so much better."
I pulled back, giving him a little space, but my gaze remained locked on him. I scanned the room for cameras, for bugs—anything that might compromise me—but found nothing. Not that it would matter if I did. When I looked back, he was still standing there, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling with quick breaths, and I couldn't stop the reaction that shot through me.
My cock hardened painfully, the sight of him, vulnerable and flushed, doing things to me that I hadn't expected.
"How old are you, Claude?" I asked, watching as he finally moved, stepping away from the wall and settling on the love seat, his eyes flickering toward the file I had tossed on the bed earlier.
"I don't trust anything written in that file." I stepped forward, my eyes narrowing as I studied him. "I want to hear it from you… because you look…" I trailed off, my brows pulling together. His features were soft, almost delicate, but his body was a contradiction—lean, strong, packed with muscle. He looked young. Too young that I had to pause in my steps.
"Young," I finished.
"I'm twenty-four," he said, his gaze holding mine. I watched him carefully, looking for any sign of a lie, but there was none. He was telling the truth.
Silence hung between us for a beat, then Claude broke it. "How old are you, Nikolai?" His voice was soft, and I was surprised he remembered my name from earlier when Antonio had mentioned it.
"Thirty-five," I said, my voice steady. I paused, studying his reaction. "Does that make you uncomfortable, Claude?"
He shook his head, his breath coming out in a soft exhale. "No, it doesn't."
Those parted lips, the flush on his cheeks—it was enough to make me close the space between us in an instant. My hand snaked around his neck, my thumb brushing across his bottom lip before pressing it between those soft lips.
"Good," I murmured, my voice thick with intent. "Because Claude…" I pushed my thumb into his mouth, watching the way his eyes widened as I continued, "I'm going to make you all mine."
CLAUDE
To say that I was extremely hard would be an understatement. Even after hours of Nikolai leaving the room, the throbbing heat between my legs refused to go away. I sat on the couch, sighing in frustration as I fisted my cock through my dark jeans. It had been so long—so damn long since I had felt anything close to this, and here I was, completely undone by a human. The thought sent a shiver through me, but the burning between my legs wouldn't settle.
Shaking my head, I stood up, making my way to the shower. Maybe I just needed to cool off, to let my mind clear, and maybe rethink what just happened. The cold water blasted against my skin, but it didn't help. My cock stayed rock hard, defying the cold.
"Fuck," I groaned, wrapping my fingers around the shaft, squeezing in a vain attempt to ease the tension. But nothing. No matter how cold the water was, how hard I tried to ignore it, the need wouldn't go away. My cock throbbed in my hand, refusing to soften, and my mind kept circling back to him—Nikolai.
Flashes of Nikolai's hands on me, his breath hot against my skin, rushed through my mind. His grip, the way he whispered into my ear, had my body burning. I stroked myself harder, faster—the cold water did nothing to calm me down.
"Tell me," came his voice, smooth, deep, like honey that melted over me. My body froze, every muscle locking in place as I snapped my eyes open. I hadn't even realized they were closed.
I didn't dare move—couldn't. My left hand stayed braced against the tiled wall while the other remained wrapped around my cock, straining for release.
"What were you thinking about that had you so worked up?" His voice—God, that voice—drifted closer. I felt him just behind me, his breath warm against my neck, and my cock throbbed in response. I bit back a groan and sucked in a shaky breath.
"Tell me, Claude," he whispered, the heat of him pressing in on all sides. "What was going through your mind?"
My lips parted on instinct, and the truth slipped out before I could stop it. "You"
A low chuckle, dark and smooth, sent a wave of pleasure crashing through me, and I almost came right there—right against the goddamn wall—from just that sound.
"Is that right?" Nikolai's hands came around my waist, slow, deliberate, and one of them closed over my own, gripping my cock. My head fell back with a choked cry, mouth open, barely able to breathe.
"Yes," I gasped as he took control of my rhythm, his hand moving back and forth, teasing me with his lazy strokes.
"Then why don't you let me take care of you?" he murmured, his breath hot against my ear.
I released myself and let my body sink back into his. I was completely under his spell, my head resting on his shoulder, my eyes shutting once again as I let him have every part of me.
"That's it," Nikolai purred, his voice a seductive whisper. "Let go for me." His strokes quickened, each one sending sparks through my body. My balls tightened as pleasure coiled inside me, making me tremble. My toes curled against the slick floor.
"You're so fucking hot, Claude," he said," So beautiful," he whispered and that was it—his voice, his hands, his body. I was lost.
Tears stung my eyes as the orgasm slammed through me, ripping a cry from my throat. My body convulsed as wave after wave crashed over me, and the only thing keeping me upright was Nikolai's firm hold, his arms supporting me while I fell apart in his hands.
Goddamn it, that was hot. That was…
"Feel good?" Nikolai's voice broke through the haze behind me, and I jerked forward, spinning around to face him. Heat spread up my neck, my cheeks burning as I stood there, staring at the man who had just made me feel… what was it he said? Yes, feel good for the first time in years.
My lips were dry, and words failed me. Nikolai spared me the awkwardness, stepping closer. His fingers found my wet curls, twisting them between his fingers, his gaze never leaving my face.
"God, you are so fucking beautiful." His voice, low and rough, sent a shiver down my spine as he shook his head and took a step back. My eyes traveled downward, noticing for the first time that he was only wearing a black brief.
When our eyes met again, his lips curved into a smirk. "I brought you food. It's pretty late out."
I nodded, swallowing hard, and made my way toward the door. But something held me back, and I glanced over my shoulder. "Thank you," I said, my voice soft, barely recognizable.
His smirk deepened, and he tilted his head, hooking his fingers into the waistband of his briefs, slowly tugging them down. "For which one?" he asked, voice thick with amusement.
I didn't answer. Instead, I slammed the bathroom door shut and leaned against it, heart racing. My eyes flicked to the tray of food resting on the nightstand.
Oh, Nikolai, I believe you know exactly which one.