GUARDED FLAMES

CHAPTER NINE

EVANGELINE

i woke up sore.

not in a bad way.

in that aching, delicious way that made me stretch and smile and blush all at once.

the sheets were a mess. my skin still buzzed from last night. his scent—cologne and sin—clung to my body like it belonged there.

and him?

he was still here.

nikolai sat at the edge of the bed, shirtless, elbows on his knees, head in his hands like he was at war with himself.

i slid out from under the covers, the cold hittin my bare skin like a shock.

he heard the sheets move and turned to look.

his eyes locked on mine.

and damn.

the way he looked at me?

like i was trouble.

like i was paradise.

like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to kiss me or beg god to take me away so he’d stop wanting me.

“come back to bed,” i whispered, voice still hoarse from the night before.

he shook his head. “that shouldn’t’ve happened.”

i stood in front of him, bare. shameless. “then why didn’t you stop?”

he reached out, touched my hip, fingers trailing over my thigh like he couldn’t help it. like he needed to feel me again.

“cuz i’m weak,” he muttered. “and you... you make me forget all the f**kin’ rules.”

i straddled his lap without askin, arms around his neck, mouths a breath apart.

“then let’s break 'em,” i said.

he growled, low in his throat. his hands gripped my waist, pulled me tight against him. i felt him—hard, ready—and suddenly we were back in it.

his mouth found my neck, kissin down, slow, wet, leavin goosebumps everywhere.

“you drive me crazy,” he whispered, lips brushin my collarbone.

i tugged his hair, made him look at me. “then lose your mind.”

he flipped me onto the bed so fast i gasped.

his mouth was on me, hot and everywhere. his hands—rough, strong, greedy—explored like he was relearnin every inch of me.

i moaned his name, again and again, louder with every pass of his tongue, every thrust of his hips.

and when he finally slid into me?

slow at first—just enough to make me feel every inch—

i swear, i saw stars.

he moved like he owned me.

and maybe he did.

my nails raked his back. he bit my shoulder. the sound of skin on skin, our breaths tangling, the need—it was animal.

messy.

raw.

real.

“mine,” he growled into my ear, f**kin me deeper. “say it.”

“yours,” i cried out. “all yours.”

he kissed me hard then—like he believed it.

and for a few stolen moments, there was no mafia. no rules. no scars.

just him.

just me.

just us.