Chapter 136
NIKOLAI’S POV
He felt like home.
Not a place. Not a memory. Not even a promise. Just the warmth of his body pressed against mine, was enough. It was steady and quiet like the world had finally shut the fuck up for a second and let me breathe.
I didn’t mean to crawl over to him like that. I told myself I didn’t need to. I was fine on my side of the bed. He gave me space. Gave me respect. But it felt like the space was eating me alive.
And when I moved, when I pressed into him I expected tension. Hesitation. Maybe a polite step back. But he didn’t flinch. He pist stayed, solid and warm and real. My hand reached for his. Hesitant. Pathetic. I didn’t even know what I was doing.
But then he met me halfway.
Fingers laced together like it meant something. Like I meant something to him.
He didn’t say a word. Just squeezed my hand, slow and gentle, like it didn’t matter how long I took to say anything. Like silence was allowed.
And that was when it hit me. That strange, disarming stillness. His body, close enough to share breath. The slow rise and fall of his chest beside mine.
We had no blacket covering our bodies but I wasn’t feeling cold.
He felt like home. And it terrified me.
I buried my face in the crook of his neck before I could think better of it.
And he let me. He even leaned into me, slightly, like he wanted me there.
I don’t know how long we laid like that. Minutes? Hours? Time bent around him like it didn’t matter. All that did was the rhythm of his breathing, the weight of his hand in my hair, and the quiet way my body finally started to believe it wasn’t in danger.
Sleep didn’t come easy. It never did. But something close to rest pressed at the edge of me. That heavy–lidded stillness that only comes when your body feels safe, even if your mind still doesn’t know how to trust it.
He didn’t say anything. Not even when my breath hitched and I pulled in a sharp inhale like I was bracing for something. He didn’t tense. Didn’t ask. He just shifted a little, his thumb brushing over my knuckles, grounding me again.
And I hated how much I needed that.
I’d spent so long teaching myself how to not need anyone. How to make silence my armor. How to turn solitude into power.
But with him here solid, patient, maddeningly warm, I couldn’t pretend anymore.
I needed this.
My nose brushed the edge of his jaw. A light scrape of stubble met me there rough against my skin in the way that made me want to feel more of it. I didn’t even think, My lips followed instinct, pressing a slow kiss just beneath his ear.
He inhaleddeep, not startled, but aware. Present.
I stayed there, my mouth hovering a moment too long. Then I kissed him again, slower this time. My lips parted just enough to graze him, tasting the salt of his skin. His hand slid up my spine, not guiding, not pushing just a response. A silent yes.
1/3
Chapter 136
The tension in my chest began to unravel. I lifted myself alightly, eyes searching his in the dim light.
He looked at me like I wasn’t broken.
Like he wasn’t afraid of how much I felt.
Like he wanted all of it.
I cupped the side of his face, fingers trembling slightly, but he leaned into the touch.
When our lips met, it wasn’t a rush. It wasn’t fire. It was heat, yes but low and steady, a smoldering burn that started at the mouth and spread through every inch of me with quiet purpose.
He kissed me like he’d been waiting.
Like he knew I’d come to him when I was ready.
And I was ready.
I let my fingers drag down his chest, memorizing the way his muscles shifted beneath my touch. I was still learning him, still trying to believe he was real. That this was real.
His hand slid under my shirt, palm flat against my back. No urgency just contact. Skin to skin. I shivered.
Not from cold. From the way I wanted. From the way I wasn’t scared of it.
I pulled back just enough to look at him again. His pupils were wide, breath a little heavier now, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.
“I want to feel something that doesn’t hurt.” My voice came out low, almost a whisper.
“Don’t ask for what you won’t hold when it’s given“, His hand slid into my hair and gripped just firm enough to make me gasp.
I didn’t care. I needed more.
My fingers curled against his chest, the cotton of his shirt soft and warm from his body. “I’m not asking to be saved,” I said. “I just… I don’t want to feel like I’m made of broken glass anymore.”
His eyes flicked over my face, not searching just seeing. He nodded, once, slow. And then his hand slid up my spine, the warmth of it sinking in like sunlight through frost. He didn’t press, didn’t pull. He just stayed, and for once, so did I.
“Tell me to stop when…“,
I didn’t allow him to finish, instead, I leaned into him, forehead resting lightly against his head.
He immediately kissed me hard, like he was staking his claim. Lips pressing firm, teeth grazing, tongue demanding. I gasped into his mouth, hands clutching his shirt as he pinned me back against the mattress.
Alessandro’s hands were everywhere gripping my hips, sliding under my shirt with rough insistence, fingers tracing hot lines over my skin like he was marking me. There was no gentleness here. Only control.
I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his sweats and tugged. He let me, helping me strip them off, his own hands already sliding beneath my boxers, pushing until we were both naked and pressed full–length together, skin to skin.
