Page 19 of Rivals

And somehow, inexplicably, Nick believed him. He let his body soften, surrendering to Viktor's touch as one finger circled his entrance, teasing but not yet breaching.

"That's it," Viktor encouraged, and the praise sent another wave of heat through Nick's veins. When had approval from Viktor become something he craved?

The first finger pushed in slowly, carefully, and Nick's breath caught at the intrusion. Viktor's fingers were thick, far more substantial than they had any right to be, and the stretch burned in the most delicious way. Nick's head fell back against the tree trunk, a low moan escaping him as Viktor worked deeper, past the second knuckle.

"God," Nick panted, his internal muscles clenching around the invading digit. "Your fingers are—fuck—"

Viktor's smile was predatory. "Too much?"

"No," Nick gasped, rocking his hips down to take Viktor's finger deeper. "More."

Something flickered in Viktor's eyes—surprise, maybe, or satisfaction. He pulled his finger back slowly before pushing in again, establishing a rhythm that had Nick squirming against the tree.

When Viktor added a second finger alongside the first, the stretch intensified, pulling a startled cry from Nick's lips. His body tensed again, muscles clamping down on Viktor's thick fingers. He forced himself to exhale slowly, focusing on the sensation of fullness rather than the burn. Gradually, his body yielded, accepting both fingers as Viktor thrust into him, stretching him with meticulous care.

It struck Nick then, with startling clarity, that Viktor—the man who'd made his working life hell for months, who'd threatened and manhandled him less than an hour ago—was being careful with him. There was still that edge of dominance, that wolfish control that seemed woven into Viktor's very DNA, but beneath it was an attentiveness Nick had never expected.

"You're opening up for me," Viktor observed, his voice a low rumble that Nick could feel in his bones. "Taking my fingers so well."

The praise sent a flush racing across Nick's skin. He'd never been particularly vocal during sex, had always found dirty talk somewhat embarrassing, but Viktor's words made his cock throb almost painfully.

Then Viktor curled his fingers, searching, and—

"Fuck!" Nick's entire body jolted, his back arching off the tree as Viktor's fingertips brushed against his prostate. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating outward. His cock jerked, another bead of precome joining the mess on his stomach.

A slow smile spread across Viktor's face. He pressed against that spot again, more deliberately this time, and Nick couldn't stop the high, desperate sound that tore from his throat. Nick wanted to make a sarcastic comment, to maintain some illusion of control, but all that came out was a broken moan as Viktor began massaging that bundle of nerves in slow, relentless circles.

"Listen to you," Viktor whispered, leaning in to brush his lips against Nick's ear. "Making such pretty noises for me."

Nick squeezed his eyes shut, embarrassment warring with pleasure as helpless whimpers escaped him with each press of Viktor's fingers. He'd never been particularly loud in bed, had always maintained some level of composure, but Viktor was dismantling his defenses one by one, reducing him to raw sound and sensation.

"Look at me," Viktor commanded, his free hand coming up to grip Nick's chin.

Nick forced his eyes open, meeting Viktor's gaze. The intensity there made his breath catch—Viktor was watching him with single-minded focus, cataloging every reaction, every flicker of pleasure that crossed Nick's face.

"That's it," Viktor encouraged as their eyes locked. "I want to see what I'm doing to you."

His fingers picked up speed, rubbing Nick's prostate with ruthless precision. The dual sensations—Viktor's fingers inside him and Viktor's gaze upon him—were overwhelming. Nick could feel himself spiraling higher, his cock leaking steadily now, untouched but so close to the edge.

"Viktor," he gasped, the name a plea. "I'm—I can't—"

Viktor made a low, satisfied noise, deep in his throat, and Nick felt that sound in his spine. The world tilted as Viktor thrust in faster, his other hand gripping Nick’s waist like he had every intention of holding on for dear life.

Nick had one last coherent thought—this is a terrible idea—before Viktor leaned in and bit his bottom lip, and oh. Oh. That was new.

Nick made an embarrassingly wrecked sound that Viktor would absolutely use against him later, but screw it, he was already halfway gone. Viktor kissed like he argued—relentless, smug, and determined to win.

Fine. He could have this round.

Just this round.

Probably.

Maybe.

Nick wasn’t sure when his hands had tangled in Viktor’s hair, but there they were, gripping tight as if letting go would send him crashing back into reality—into a world where this was a terrible, terrible mistake. But right now, with Viktor’s mouth moving against his like he wanted to claim him from the inside out, reality could go to hell.

Viktor must have sensed it, because he made a low, satisfied sound and bit at Nick’s jaw before trailing his lips down his neck. The scrape of teeth, the flick of his tongue—Nick’s entire body shuddered, his head knocking back against the tree. His breath came out in a stutter, and damn it, he should have some witty comeback, some sharp remark to reclaim some control.

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