His unclaimed mate

Chapter 4

Elena’s POV

I got to Nicolas' place before 7am, the sky was still that deep midnight blue, the kind that makes everything feel like it’s not yet quite morning. I barely slept. I had spent the whole night staring at my ceiling trying to figure out what Nicolas' true intentions were.

I rang the doorbell once.

Nothing.

I pressed it a second time, my fingers lingering against the button as I waited for a response. Still nothing.

I was about to ring it a third time when the door suddenly shifted.

My hand froze in midair.

The handle slowly turned, followed by the faintest creak as the door began to open.

Someone was on the other side.

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, my bags digging into my shoulder. I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears, or maybe that was just the silence of the street. No birds yet. No cars. Just me and the heavy oak door and the faint glow of a lamp through the frosted window beside it.

When the door finally opened, Nicolas stood there in front of me, wearing a towel covering his waist downward with my eyes catching a view of the towel up to his chest then his face.

His hair was wet, darker than usual, the ends curling slightly against his forehead. A few droplets clung to his skin, catching what little light spilled through the doorway.

But it was his eyes that made me pause.

Sharp. Knowing. Far too alert for someone who had supposedly just stepped out of the shower.

He stared at me without saying a word, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, the silence between us felt heavier than it should have.

Then the thought crept into my mind.

Maybe he hadn’t just happened to be awake.

Maybe he had been waiting for me.

He took my hands gently, his fingers closing around mine as he drew me inside. There was no force in the gesture, only a quiet certainty that made me wonder what he wasn’t telling me. The door swung shut behind me with a soft thud, and suddenly the world outside, the quiet street, the gray sky, the weight of my bags, all of it vanished.

He pushed me behind the door, my back pressed against the cool wood, and started kissing me.

Not gently, he kissed me rough enough to keep me completely off guard. His mouth was hot and demanding, making my heart pound wildly against my ribs and somehow, I wanted even more of him.

My fingers loosened around the bags. They slipped from my hands and landed on the floor with a dull, heavy thump as I attempted to touch his face while he was kissing me.

He grabbed one of my legs, pulling it over his waist with one hand, pinning both my hands with one of his other hands. His grip was strong, almost bruising, but I didn't want him to let go.

His lips found my neck, he started kissing them slowly and deliberately trailing down from just below my ear to the curve where my shoulder began. Each kiss was ticklish, making me flinch as it made my body turn on I'm a way that surprised me every time.

I gasped.

“Nicolas”, I said, barely able to speak. I wasn't even Sure about what I was trying to say.

As he was about to kiss me, well, that's what I thought before he unexpectedly carried me from my a**, lifting me above him as he went straight to his bathroom. Both hands hooked under my thighs, and my arms wrapped around his shoulders.

The bathroom was dark when we entered, just a sliver of pale light from the half-opened window. Then he turned on the shower, and the cold water immediately made my body sensitive.

I gasped as the water hit my shoulders down to my chest, my b*east, my stomach downwards. My n* pple pointed, hard and so obvious through my wet dress, it was so obvious to Nicolas.

His eyes dropped down, then back up to my face, and that crooked smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Nicolas slowly helped me out of my dress, his hands finding the zipper at my back and pulling it down with agonizing slowness. The fabric slid off my shoulders, pooled at my feet, and left me vulnerably naked with only my panties on. His body pressed against mine as I felt my b*reast touching his chest.

The warmth of him was shocking against the cold of the water, and I pressed closer without thinking, desperate for more heat, more contact.

His heart was beating fast, I could feel it through his chest. A steady rhythm that matched my own. For a moment, he just stood there, looking at me. Really looking. Like he was memorizing every curve, every drop of water tracing down my collarbone, every goosebump rising on my arms.

He looked down at my b*east again, smirked, and said

“Woah your big, better seen without clothes on”.

I felt my cheeks flush, but I didn't look away.

He removed his towel revealing his d**k. They more big, much bigger because they were, hard and erect, standing proud and heavy between us.

I bent down slowly, my face looking directly at his d**k, I placed my hands on his d**k and started rubbing my hands on it. Feeling the smooth heat of his skin, the pulsing hardness beneath. He was so warm. So alive. I could feel him twitch against my palm, and a low sound rumbled from deep in his chest.

He then, placed his hands at the back of my head, as I put my mouth on his d**k, sucking the life out of it. I took him as deep as I could, my tongue working, my hands gripping the base. The taste of him was salt and skin and something purely him, and I lost myself in the rhythm of it. The water still sprayed down on us, mixing with the sounds I was making, the wet sounds that seemed too loud in the small tiled room.

Nicolas couldn’t help but moan, each one grew louder as my mouth and hands were working, his hips began to move, just slightly, pushing deeper into my throat. I gagged once, twice, but I didn't pull back. I wanted this. I wanted to hear him fall apart.

And then his big moan came, deep, guttural, torn from somewhere raw inside him and he c*mmed all over my face. His chest was heaving. His jaw was tight. For a second, he just stared down at me with this unreadable expression, something between satisfaction and something else. Something darker.

He pulled me up and was about to kiss me, I leaned in, eyes half-closed, expecting the warmth of his mouth again. But instead He picked his towel off the floor, wrapped it around his waist, and left.

Just like that.

I was left confused.

I picked up the next available towel, chasing right after him. The floor was slippery, and I nearly lost my balance twice as I stumbled out of the bathroom.

“Nicolas”, I called out.

My feet slid on the polished floor, and I felt myself going down, arms flailing, towel barely staying wrapped around me. I fell hard on my knee, and a sharp sting shot up my leg. I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

He came running back, lifted me back into his arms, and took me to a room. He didn’t even look at me; he applied ointment to my leg to prevent it from swelling, and he told me to change and get ready since we had a flight to catch, acting as if nothing had happened.

I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him and demand to know what that was. But I didn't. I just nodded, because that was easier. That was safer.

The drive to the airport was silent and nobody spoke. The car hummed along the highway, and I watched the city blur past the window, my reflection ghosting over the glass. Nicolas kept his eyes on the road. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. I couldn't tell if he was angry, or guilty, or just done with me already.

At the airport, we checked in without a word. I scanned my boarding pass, found my seat number, and realized I was a seat behind him. Bella sat right next to him, blonde, polished, laughing at something he said and I sat in my seat alone.

Until, Jacob Lucas sat right next to me.

The joy that came from me I didn’t know where it came from. With a calm, gentle voice he spoke to me.

“Hello beautiful”, he said

My head was spinning all around, looking for the right word to say. Finally managed a squeaky "Hi."

We soon got along, talking ever since he got on the plane. He asked about my job and my favorite coffee order. Normal things. Easy things. My laughter filled our seat, genuine, surprised laughter that I hadn't heard from myself in weeks. And Nicolas couldn't help but steal a glimpse of us. I saw him look back over his shoulder. Once. Twice. His jaw was tight again.

Then, Bella stood up from her seat, making her way into the restroom on board, not too long after Bella stood up, Nicolas stood up too and went in the same direction. After a while none of them came back.

I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. The laughter faded. I excused myself from Jacob, murmured something about needing to stretch my legs, and stood up.

I headed towards where both of them went.

With my heart beating rapidly, I opened the door. I almost couldn’t believe the scene in front of me

Nicolas was F*cking Bella.

Her back was against the mirror. His hands were on her hips. Their bodies moved together like they'd done this a hundred times. Like I wasn't even a thought in his head. Like the morning, the shower, the kisses, the way he'd looked at me like nothing had ever happened.

I stomped out of the bathroom immediately. My face burned. My hands were shaking. I went straight to my seat, feeling utterly bitter.

My chest ached. I refused to cry over him. Not here. Not now. Jacob looked at me with concern, but I just shook my head and stared out the window at the clouds below.

The plane hummed on. And I felt emptier than I'd ever felt in my life.

And I wondered who else he was f*****g too?