Page 7 of Rivals

A muscle in Viktor’s temple twitched. Oh yeah. That hit a nerve.

Nick grinned, pressing his advantage. “All that big, bad wolf talk at the office, but now that you finally get me alone…” He let the sentence dangle, letting the silence stretch before clicking his tongue in mock disappointment. “I expected more.”

Viktor’s entire body went rigid. His grip tightened on Nick’s wrists, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind him who was really in control. His breathing was heavier now, deeper, like he was working through something dangerous.

Andgod, he looked dangerous.

Nick could see it now, the way Viktor’s control was cracking at the edges—his teeth bared just enough to reveal the sharper points of his canines, the way his chest rose and fell with deliberate, restrained force. His body was a study in tension, every muscle flexed, his skin taut over power barely leashed. The moonlight slashed over him, throwing deep shadows across thehard planes of his body, highlighting the sheersizeof him, the way he was built for this—for the hunt, for the chase, for taking exactly what he wanted.

Nick refused to acknowledge what that realization did to him.

He rolled his hips deliberately, drinking in the sharp inhale it tore from Viktor.

Oh yeah.There it was.That one sharp second where Viktor's grip faltered, where his pupils dilated even more, where his breath hitched. Nick could feel the raw tension in him, like a taut wire about to snap. Good. He wanted Viktor unhinged. He wanted to win this round, even if only for a second.

A low, warning growl rumbled in Viktor’s chest, vibrating straight through Nick’s bones. "Stop that."

Nick swallowed hard, pulse spiking, but forced his smirk wider. “What’s the matter, Viktor?” he taunted, voice all honeyed provocation. “Can’t handle a little fight?”

A slow smirk curved his lips as he murmured, “Guess I’ll just have to tell everyone at work that Viktor Ivanov is all bark, no bite—”

Viktor snapped.

One second, Nick had control. The next, Viktor took it.

Nick barely had time to process before there was a sharp rip, and the cool night air hit his skin. His shirt was gone. His pants followed in one brutal motion, reduced to nothing but pathetic scraps.

He sucked in a breath, shivering at the sudden exposure. "Jesus, ever heard of buttons?"

Viktor didn’t answer. His gaze raked over Nick’s body, slow and predatory, like he was committing every inch to memory. Green eyes burned, pupils blown wide, his expression caught somewhere between hunger and possession. He looked like a man who had just found exactly what he wanted.

Nick’s pulse jackhammered against his ribs. His skin felt too hot, nerves crackling under the weight of Viktor’s stare. The way he was looking at him—so intent, so focused—was doing something strange to his body, something Nick wasn’t prepared to deal with.

This was bad. This was so bad.

And yet.

Nick swallowed hard and forced himself to smirk, pretending his own breathing wasn’t uneven. "Like what you see, big guy?"

Viktor’s lips curled into something dark, something amused and dangerous all at once. He reached down—Nick braced himself, body tensing—but Viktor didn’t touch him.

Instead, his hand wrapped aroundhimself, slow and deliberate.

Nick’s brain short-circuited.

His eyes flicked down before he could stop himself, before he could remember that looking was a terrible idea.

Oh. Oh, fuck.

Nick’s breath stalled. His mouth went dry.

Viktor didn’t stop.

His grip was firm, steady, pumping over thick, hard cock with a slow, almost lazy confidence, like he had all the time in the world to make Nick unravel. His fingers curled at the tip, slick and teasing, squeezing just enough to drag a rough exhale from his throat. Each stroke was deliberate, practiced, the kind of touch that came from knowing exactly how to drive himself crazy—and knowing exactly who was watching.

Nick's pulse pounded so hard he could hear it in his ears. His mouth was dry. His skin burned. He should have looked away, should have forced himself tonotwatch the way Viktor's fist worked over himself, slick with pre-come, glistening in the moonlight, his abs tensing with every slow drag of his hand.

But he couldn't.

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