Page 17 of Stalk Me

“More wine?” He signals the server, acting as the attentive dinner companion.

I tense my jaw, not trusting my voice. My nipples strain against my dress, and I’m certain my face is flushed. How is he maintaining such perfect composure while reducing me to a quivering mess?

“You’re doing so well,” he whispers. “Such a good girl, taking whatever I give you.”

His praise sends another flood of wetness between my legs, and I clamp them together.

Nikolai tuts softly. “Spread them wider,” he commands. “Show me how badly you want it.”

I comply without thinking, despite my mind’s protests. His fingers resume their skilled torture, building me up only to deny me release again and again.

The dessert course appears—a chocolate soufflé. I stare at it, wondering how I’m supposed to eat when every nerve ending in my body is screaming for release.

I stare down at the soufflé, trying to steady my breathing. Nikolai’s touch between my legs is maddening, keeping me constantly on edge. I’m dangerously close to the precipice, barely clinging to my composure.

As I lift the first bite of soufflé to my lips, his fingers curl inside me again, stroking that sensitive spot with expert precision. My mouth falls open in a silent cry of pleasure, the chocolate melting over my tongue.

I quickly school my features and offer our tablemates a shaky smile. “My goodness, this is exquisite.”

Nikolai’s thumb circles my clit, faster now, ratcheting up the pressure. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Only the best for you,malishka.”

His possessive endearment in front of the others makes me clench around his fingers. I shift in my seat, fighting the urge to grind against his hand.

“Here, have a taste.” Before I can protest, he lifts a spoonful of soufflé to my lips. As I swallow, his fingers curl again, pushing me closer to release.

A strangled gasp escapes me. Our tablemates glance over in concern.

“Sorry,” I choke out with an embarrassed laugh. “It’s just so delicious. It took me by surprise.”

Nikolai smiles indulgently, though his eyes hold a predatory gleam. “I’ll get you another. We can’t have you missing out.”

As he flags down our server, his fingers increase their tempo between my legs. I grip the edge of my seat, torn between arching into his touch and maintaining decorum.

The server appears with another soufflé. I thank her through gritted teeth, trying not to betray the effect Nikolai is having on me under the table. He waits until she retreats before resuming his sweet torture, intent on completely breaking me.

My thighs tremble uncontrollably now. So close... I’m right there...

Nikolai’s breath feathers my ear. “Come for me, Sofia.”

His whispered command undoes me. My vision goes white as my inner walls convulse around his fingers. I cry out, unable to hold back any longer.

Concerned glances turn my way. I flush, lowering my eyes.

“Forgive me,” I stammer. “I’m just... overwhelmed by how delicious this is.” I lift a shaky bite of soufflé, avoiding the curious stares of our tablemates.

Nikolai withdraws his hand slowly, bringing his fingers to his mouth for a languid taste. My cheeks burn hotter at the intimacy of the gesture.

“You’re right,malishka,” he murmurs, those stormy eyes fixed on me. “Absolutely delectable.”

The promise in his gaze leaves no doubt that our encounter is far from over. But for now, I can only sit here trembling in the aftermath, wondering how I’ll ever regain my composure after coming undone so completely under Nikolai’s touch.

7

NIKOLAI

Iwatch Sofia rise from the table through narrowed eyes, still trembling from our intimate encounter. Her cheeks flush as she excuses herself with a murmured apology to our table companions. The sight of her retreat stirs something dark in me—she can’t just walk away.

I stand, ignoring Margaret Winchester’s attempt at conversation. My long strides eat up the distance between us as Sofia hurries through the ballroom doors into the hotel’s marble corridor.

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