Page 16 of Rivals

"I'm not most humans," Nick rasped, his throat raw, his voice barely recognizable.

Viktor panted, his fingers lingering in Nick’s hair before they loosened, slipping away. They stared at each other, both getting their breaths back, the air thick with tension and uncertainty.

The fresh silence between them was suffocating.

Nick sat back on his heels, chest heaving, his lips tingling, swollen from use. He barely registered the cooling night air against his overheated skin. He was too busy staring at Viktor, and Viktor—damn him—was staring right back.

Nick’s mind scrambled for something, anything, to say. A joke, an insult, some razor-sharp quip that would put distance between them again. But nothing came.

What the hell happens now?

The answer that came to mind was wild, but inescapable:Whatever I wantto make happen.

And right now, with his cock aching, he knew what that was.

Nick's voice was thick and raspy when he finally spoke. "Seems like I've made you come twice tonight, Viktor," he said, his voice laced with challenge. "If you don't want everyone at work tomorrow to know that you're a lousy lay, you better even the score."

Chapter eight

Viktor

Viktor barely had a moment to breathe, the aftershocks of release still crackling through his body. Nick was a mess—panting, flushed, marked by their frenzy. And yet, despite everything, the bastard wasstill teasing him.

Something in Viktor snapped.

Before he could think, he had Nick shoved against the nearest tree, rough bark scraping against bare skin. Nick gasped, but Viktor didn’t care. Couldn’t. He was past the point of reason. This wasn’t about control anymore. It was about need. About proving something—to Nick, to himself.

His hand found Nick’s cock, gripping him with purpose, stroking hard.

Nick sucked in a sharp breath, body tensing, then melting, surrendering to the pleasure. His head tipped back against the tree, mouth parting on a low, sinful moan. Viktor felt it like a spark to dry tinder, his own desire roaring back to life.

At the office, Nick was a thorn in his side, a constant irritation, always knowing exactly how to push his buttons. Now, hewas under Viktor’s skin in an entirely different way—shaking, desperate, undone by Viktor’s touch.

Viktor's gaze traveled down, taking in what he held in his hand. Nick's cock was like the rest of him—not the biggest Viktor had seen, but perfectly proportioned. It was straight where Viktor's curved slightly, the head flushed a deep pink, almost purple with need. A prominent vein ran along the underside, throbbing against Viktor's palm with each stroke.

Beautiful,Viktor thought grudgingly. He'd never admit it aloud, but Nick's cock suited him—elegant in its way, responsive to every twist of Viktor's wrist. Pre-come leaked steadily from the tip, slicking Viktor's movements, the scent of it sharp and enticing to his heightened senses.

Despite having just come himself, Viktor's cock stirred again, hanging heavy between his legs, not fully erect but far from satisfied. Each gasp that escaped Nick's lips, each involuntary thrust into Viktor's hand, sent blood rushing back to Viktor's groin. One round wouldn't be enough—not after years of tension, not with the way Nick's scent filled his nostrils, a maddening mixture of arousal and defiance.

Viktor tightened his grip, watching the muscles in Nick's stomach contract, the definition there more pronounced than he'd expected. Nick was all lean lines and hidden strength—no visible abs like Viktor's, but a fighter's body nonetheless. His nipples were hard peaks, goosebumps rising on his skin from the cool night air or from Viktor's touch—or both.

"Look at you," Viktor growled, his accent thicker with desire. "All that mouthiness, and now you can barely speak."

Nick's cock pulsed in his hand, a fresh bead of pre-come welling at the tip. Viktor swiped his thumb through it, spreading it over the sensitive head in circles that made Nick's hips buck forward involuntarily.

Viktor pressed closer, his own cock nudging against Nick's thigh, hardening again with each passing second. One taste of Nick hadn't been enough. Nothing about this would be enough. The realization should have alarmed him, but with Nick pinned against the tree, writhing under his touch, Viktor couldn't bring himself to care about the implications.

All he knew was that he wanted more.

Viktor leaned in, teeth grazing the shell of Nick’s ear. “This is what you wanted, yes?” he growled, voice thick with possession. “Tell me how much you need it.”

Nick whimpered, his hips jerking into Viktor’s fist, chasing more. His body answered before his mouth did, and fuck, that was satisfaction enough.

Viktor let out a low, satisfied chuckle. He had resisted for so long—resented Nick, fought the attraction, convinced himself he felt nothing but irritation.

But now, here they were.

Could've been here sooner, if they weren't bothso damn stubborn.

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