Page 14 of Rivals

He hadn't planned this—hadn't planned to be on his knees in the damp earth of the forest, pine needles digging into his knees. Yet here he was, looking up at his nemesis, watching Viktor's composed facade crumble with each calculated movement

This was stupid. So, so stupid.

Yet here he was, on his knees, one arrogant werewolf coming apart above him. Nick's jaw ached, his pulse pounded, and his body—traitorous bastard that it was—throbbed with something dangerously close to want.

He looked up, meeting Viktor’s eyes. Dark. Wild. Barely restrained.

Nick smirked, because if he didn’t, he might start thinking about what he was doing. “Look at you,” he drawled, voice lower than he intended. “So damn desperate.” He let his fingers ghost along Viktor’s slick length, barely touching, watching theway Viktor’s stomach tensed in response. “Still trying to pretend you’re in control.”

Viktor let out a growl, low and warning, but Nick only grinned.

This was reckless. Insane.

And yet, he wanted to see how far he could push.

"What's the matter, Viktor?" Nick taunted, his voice a low purr as he leaned in, his breath ghosting over Viktor's hard cock. "Cat got your tongue?"

Nick smirked, his eyes locked onto Viktor's as he parted his lips, taking just the tip into his mouth. He teased, his tongue swirling around the sensitive head, his hands working the shaft with slow, deliberate strokes. Viktor's body was taut, muscles straining as he fought to maintain control. Nick could feel the power dynamic shifting, the upper hand within his grasp.

Nick wasn't new to this game. He'd never been the hottest guy in the room, not like Viktor with his movie-star looks and perfect body. Nick was all angles and attitude, nothing special at first glance. But that had just made him work harder—pun intended. He knew his way around a cock.

And now Viktor was coming undone above him. Mr. Perfect with his tailored suits and cold composure was breathing hard, trembling slightly as Nick worked him with practiced precision. It felt like victory—sweeter than any argument he'd ever won against Viktor.

Nick worked Viktor over slowly, deliberately, keeping the pace just on the edge of teasing. He could feel the tension in Viktor’s body, the way his muscles coiled tight, like he was fighting to hold himself back. It was exhilarating, knowing he could unravel someone like Viktor, someone who usually carried himself with such rigid control.

Viktor let out a low, guttural sound, his grip tightening in Nick’s hair. The rawness of it sent a sharp thrill through Nick’s spine. He should’ve been afraid—this was a predator, a werewolfbarely restraining himself—but instead, it made his own pulse pound harder, made him press in closer, made him want to see just how much he could push before Viktor snapped.

Nick told himself this was still about control. About payback. About wiping that superior look off Viktor’s face and proving that Nick could handle him, that he could take what he wanted without losing himself in it.

But his body had other ideas.

Heat curled low in his stomach, spreading like wildfire, impossible to ignore. His own cock ached, betraying him, pressing insistently against the cool night air. He grit his teeth, willing the feeling away, but it was useless. Every growl that rumbled from Viktor’s chest, every sharp inhale, every shudder of barely restrained need only made Nick’s blood burn hotter.

This was getting dangerous.

Viktor’s thighs tensed beneath Nick’s hands, hard muscle flexing as the werewolf fought for control. The grip in Nick’s hair tightened, fingers digging into his scalp. He should’ve resented the possessive touch, but instead, it sent a shiver down his spine.

Suddenly, Viktor's hand fisted in Nick's hair, gripping tightly. Nick's eyes widened in surprise, a jolt of alarm shooting through him.

The air shifted. One moment Nick was in control, the next—yanked into Viktor's orbit. Viktor's fingers tightened, sending sparks of pain across Nick's scalp.

"You think you're so clever with that talented mouth," Viktor said, voice rough. "Let's see how you handle this."

Viktor's fingers tightened in Nick's hair, holding him perfectly still. Their eyes locked—Nick's defiant, Viktor's burning with dark intent.

"Open wider," Viktor commanded, his voice rough.

Nick complied, a last flicker of triumph in his eyes—still thinking he had the upper hand. Then Viktor pressed forward,the thick head of his cock stretching Nick's lips obscenely. He didn't thrust. Instead, he fed his length into Nick's mouth with deliberate slowness, one excruciating inch at a time.

Nick's confidence wavered as the first few inches filled his mouth. Viktor was bigger than he'd anticipated—thicker, longer, the veins along the shaft pulsing against his tongue. A trickle of uncertainty crept up his spine.

"Look at me," Viktor growled when Nick's eyes started to close.

Nick obeyed, gazing up as another inch disappeared between his lips. His jaw ached, stretched to capacity. Viktor was only halfway in, and already Nick was struggling.

A moan vibrated in Nick's throat—part protest, part unwilling pleasure. His naked body betrayed him, his own cock standing rigid against his stomach, pre-come beading at the tip despite his growing alarm.

Nick's jaw ached, stretched to its limit. Saliva leaked from the corners of his mouth, running down his chin. Each thrust pushed deeper, Viktor's cock filling his throat completely.

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