CLAUDE
I tried to move, to rock against his hand, but his palm flattened against my stomach, pinning me down.
"Claude." His voice was low, dark, filled with raw need.
"Nikolai," I gasped, moaned, groaned—his fingers pushing deeper, pressing harder until I was trembling beneath him. Heat curled low in my stomach, tightening, coiling—
Then they were gone.
A frustrated sound left me, but he only smirked, gripping my thighs, his fingers dragging over my skin slowly. His voice was wrecked as he rasped, "I want to be gentle, but f**k—"
I grabbed his hand, yanking him down until we were a breath apart.
"I don't want gentle."
Something snapped.
I barely had time to breathe before he pushed in.
Slow. Deep. Hard
I choked on a moan, my fingers digging into his arms,
