Page 24 of Rivals

He broke the kiss, sucking in air, his heart hammering against his ribs. Viktor didn’t move far, his forehead resting against Nick’s, green eyes dark with heat.

Nick let his hands drift lower, just to be a menace. “You know, one day we’re gonna get caught.”

Viktor chuckled, voice rough. “Then we’d better make the most of it.”

Nick barely had time to roll his eyes before Viktor kissed him again, deep and claiming.

A wicked idea slithered into Nick’s brain, curling up like a cat in the sun, smug and dangerous. His fingers trailed along Viktor’s jaw, feeling the subtle clench of muscle beneath his touch. He didn’t miss the way Viktor’s pupils darkened, sharp eyes zeroing in on him like a predator locking onto prey.

Nick smirked. Perfect.

“You think you can take me right here,” he murmured, his voice a purr of pure provocation, “without making a sound?”

Viktor’s grip on his hips tightened, fingers pressing in like he was already claiming victory. His breath, hot and teasing, ghosted over Nick’s ear as he leaned in. “Challenge accepted.”

Nick barely had a second to process before Viktor spun him around and bent him over the copier. The cold surface joltedagainst his overheated skin, sending a shiver down his spine. His fingers curled against the smooth plastic, breath hitching, adrenaline thrumming through his veins.

This was reckless. Stupid.

So damn good.

The hum of the machine beneath him filled the silence, a steady white noise masking their ragged breathing. Nick bit down on his lip, hard, because Viktor’s hands—strong, possessive—were already tracing a slow, torturous path down his sides, sending sparks of anticipation through every nerve in his body.

“This is a terrible idea,” Nick whispered, voice wrecked even before Viktor really got started.

Viktor chuckled, low and knowing, his thumbs digging into Nick’s hips. “You’re the one who started it.”

Viktor's hands gripped his hips possessively, thumbs digging into the sensitive flesh. The werewolf pressed against him from behind, his solid warmth a stark contrast to the cool machine beneath Nick's chest.

Nick’s breath fogged against the copier’s surface, shivering as Viktor’s fingers dragged down his lower back, teasing, deliberate. When they slipped beneath the waistband of his slacks and between his cheeks, he felt the second Viktor’s breath hitched—the exact moment realization hit.

Silence. Then, a slow, dark chuckle.

“Someone came prepared.” Viktor’s voice was lower now, rough around the edges. His fingers teased Nick's hole—slick with lube.

Nick glanced over his shoulder, smirking. “Please. You think I didn’t know exactly what I was doing in that meeting?” He pushed back slightly, making damn sure Viktor felt him. “Your face when I called out your ego? Worth every minute I spent in the bathroom getting ready.”

Viktor’s grip on his hip tightened, his other hand still lingering like he was deciding how much trouble Nick was actually in. A growl rumbled in his chest, a vibration Nick felt before he heard.

“You little tease.” Viktor’s fingers drove straight into Nick, making him suck in a sharp breath. “The whole time you were sitting there, running that smart mouth…”

“Thinking about this?” Nick arched slightly, voice just shy of breathless. “About how easy it would be for you to just bend me over and take what’s yours?” His head tilted, and he let out a shaky breath as Viktor’s slid two thick fingers into him. “Maybe.” A pause, the sharp flicker of a smirk. “Definitely.”

Viktor cursed under his breath, his fingers flexing. He leaned in, his breath hot against Nick’s ear, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to make him shudder. “You’re going to pay for this,” he murmured, voice edged with promise.

Nick grinned, exhaling sharply. “That’s what I’m counting on.”

Viktor’s chest rumbled with silent laughter, a dark, knowing sound that sent shivers down Nick’s spine.

Viktor's answer was the unmistakable sound of expensive fabric being yanked down. Nick's tailored pants pooled around his ankles, cool air hitting the heated skin of his exposed ass. The position—bent over the photocopier, ass bared, still wearing his dress shirt and tie—should have been humiliating. Instead, it sent a fresh surge of arousal through him, his cock twitching against the hard edge of the machine.

Behind him came the metallic clink of Viktor's belt buckle, followed by the slow, deliberate rasp of his zipper. The sound alone made Nick's cock jerk, a visceral response born from a year of associating that specific sequence with the mind-blowing pleasure that inevitably followed. Pavlovian conditioning at its finest. Viktor had ruined him for perfectly normal sounds.

Nick opened his mouth for some clever retort, but the words died in his throat as he felt the blunt head of Viktor's cockpressing against his entrance. Despite the preparation, despite a year of taking Viktor inside him, the initial pressure still made his breath catch. Viktor was big—unnaturally so—and the stretch of accommodation never failed to make Nick's mind go temporarily, blissfully blank.

A moment of resistance, a heartbeat of pressure, and then Viktor was pushing inside, a slow, thick invasion that had Nick biting down on his lower lip to keep from making sounds that would alert the entire floor to exactly what was happening in the supply room.

"Fuck," Nick breathed, the word barely audible as Viktor sank deeper, filling him with that perfect combination of pleasure and burn. His fingers gripped the edges of the photocopier, knuckles turning white as Viktor bottomed out, hips flush against Nick's ass.

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