Page 24 of Golden Eagle

6

Sasha woke slowly, his body warm and relaxed beneath the covers. And beneath the weight of the arm thrown around his middle. A brief, fierce joy filled him. Before Virginia, and especially before Trina and Lanny had come into the picture, waking like this would have been normal. But it had been weeks, now, and he wanted to savor it for as long as Nikita would let him.

And then, like dawn breaking, he remembered what else had happened last night. He hadn’t forgotten it – he never would – but the sense-memory of it flooded his mind, and set his heart racing, and he opened his mouth on a silent gasp.

Nik shifted behind him, sheets rustling. Cool fingertips brushed Sasha’s hair aside, drawing a shiver, and then his face pressed into the back of Sasha’s neck, cold nose and warm breath.

Sasha held very still.

“Sashka.”

He closed his eyes. Just a moment. Took a deep breath full of familiar, well-loved scents: their apartment, this bed, the sheets that smelled like both of them. All of it undercut by the low musk of sex, dizzying and thrilling. And probably doomed never to repeat.

It doesn’t matter, he told himself. He loved Nikita. He was pack, he was family, he was the single most important figure in Sasha’s life, and nothing could change that. Not even rejection; not even if Nikita told him, gently, that last night had been a mistake. That some lines shouldn’t be crossed.

He exhaled slowly, dread pooling in his stomach, and twisted around so he lay on his other side, so they faced one another. Heart pounding, he opened his eyes.

Nikita’s head rested on the pillow only a few inches away, gaze impossibly soft. The little groove so often pressed between his brows, a sign of tension and worry, was smooth, his expression relaxed, wide open in a way it never was.

Sasha wasn’t prepared for the raw, vulnerable look of him then, for the gentle steadiness of his stare, and he swallowed down the shocked little sound that tried to climb his throat.

“Are you alright?” Nikita asked, and even his voice was soft.

Sasha’s mouth was dry, and he had to wet his lips. Even then, his voice came out a croak. “Yes.”

“Did–” His brows tensed. “I didn’t hurt you, did–”

“No.” Sasha pressed his hand flat to Nik’s chest; felt the quick throb of his heartbeat, as unsteady as his own. “No, I’m fine. You didn’t–” His breath caught, and he bit at his lip.

They were at the precipice again.Still. They had been for a while, and probably even longer than that, Sasha thought. He wanted to leap across it, but if he didn’t land. If he fell…

Slowly, as if trying not to startle him, Nikita lifted his hand between them. And laid it, gentle as thistledown, on Sasha’s face. Cupped his jaw. Stroked his cheek with his thumb. “I think,” he said slowly, “that I’ve done a very bad job of showing you how precious you are to me.”

Sasha sucked in a breath.

Nikita tipped forward, bridged the gap between them, and pressed their foreheads together.

Another breath, almost a gasp. Sasha felt the sting of tears and shut his eyes, the warm touch of skin-to-skin an anchor.

“I’m sorry,” Nik whispered. His thumb swept back and forth, soothing. Grounding. “I’m so sorry. I can’t…” He sucked in his own unsteady breath, his whole body shuddering against Sasha’s. “You are everything to me.Everything.” Fierce. And then, uncertain: “I want to show you. If…you want. If you…”

“Yes.” Sasha angled his head, surged forward, and kissed him.

It had to be a terrible kiss. Sasha had no idea what he was doing, and just mashed their mouths together; too hard, too fast. Their teeth clicked.

A split-second where he panicked. What if he shouldn’t have? What if Nik hadn’t meant–?

But then he felt Nikita’s lips curve against his own. A smile.

Nik pulled back a fraction, just far enough to ease the pressure – but he didn’t break contact. His hand slid down so it cupped the side of Sasha’s throat, and he kissed back. Gentle, skillful, coaxing. With the kind of finesse Sasha wanted to have, but had been too overcome to attempt.

Sasha sucked in a breath through his nose, still now, feeling Nikita’s lips move delicately against his own.

It was happening. He’d imagined it – sometimes, when he hadn’t dashed his own hopes out of fear. But to live it now – the soft flick of the very tip of Nik’s tongue against his closed lips – defied all imagination. Was he dreaming? Had he hit his head?

Nik retreated a little farther, just enough to whisper, “It’s better to go slow at first,” hint of a laugh in his voice. Then he pressed back in for a slow, thorough kiss that left Sasha clutching at him, mouth opening in complete, helpless offering.

Nik hummed a pleased little sound. He tilted his head, deepening the angle. Pushed up on his elbow for better leverage, his hand sliding down Sasha’s throat, over his collarbone, to his chest.

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