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Amour Amour Page 78
Author: Krista Ritchie

“Thighs?” he says, more huskily, his hands running up the bareness of mine.

I tensely shake my head, my legs tightening around him, pulsing more intense.

“Erection.” He eye-fucks me.

I buck up, and a tight, low noise catches in his throat. He grips my hip again, and he keeps me still beneath him. I shut my eyes, his gaze basically drilling into me.

“Open your eyes, myshka.” I hear the smile in his voice.

“I’m going to come…and you’re just speaking to me.” My eyes staying closed so this will last longer.

“But I haven’t even reached the best part.” His thumb caresses my cheek, daring me to look at him, to take a quick peek of his features.

It’s too tempting. And I’m too curious to stay in darkness. So I open one eye. And then two, half of his attention planted on the book, scanning a new part.

Nikolai meets my gaze. “With her, and only with her, the dead in me is alive.”

I highlighted that line. And underlined it. And starred it. Coming from his lips—it does more to me than all the others.

He says, “I love that quote.”

“Why?” I have to ask.

It takes him a moment to collect his thoughts, staring off. I watch as his eyes seem to lighten with more and more clarity. And then he focuses back on me.

“I couldn’t explain, for the longest time, why I wanted you near me,” he says. “I knew I was attracted to you, but it was more than that. Your energy, your idealism and optimism—I missed those things, the places inside of me that made me feel more alive. And for years, I only sought them out on Saturday nights.”

Performing. During his after-show. His one time to let go and be free.

“And I realized,” he says lowly, “you are my Saturday nights. Being with you makes me come alive all over again.”

My heart thrums and soars at his proclamation. Even if I could speak, I’m not even sure how to express my feelings. He’s never said anything like this to me before.

Thankfully he leans closer, kissing me, not urging me to fill the silence with my voice. He sets the book aside, tugging me to his chest. As though we’re cuddling. His actions are all smooth and fluid like skilled choreography.

Nikolai drapes my leg over his waist. Then he tugs down his boxer-briefs, pulling aside my panties and shorts. He slides his hardness far into me, filling my need.

After many experiences with him, there’s no pain this time. Just pleasure.

I hold him tighter, my fingers gripping the longer hairs by his neck. He’s slow and sweet, powerful and deep. The fullness lights me on fire, and I relax into his body, into the way he has me protectively in his arms.

As he thrusts, his gaze meets mine again, those hypnotic, gunmetal skies.

And I don’t want to lose all these moments with him.

Not yet.

Act Forty-Four

Nikolai believes red and green stockings and a yule log on the television are enough to satisfy all Christmas requirements. He apparently hates dragging a real tree into the suite, but Katya begged for one, citing me as a source for it.

I’m without my family.

It’s sad.

He caved, so now we’re wandering along gravel paths, searching for the perfect evergreen. My hair whips in the wind, strands sticking to my lips. A cold-front moved into Nevada this weekend, chilling any exposed skin.

“I don’t know how she does it,” I say aloud, watching Katya skip off towards a punier looking spruce.

Nikolai clasps my gloved hand after I drop my arm. “Does what?”

“Spends the holidays without her parents.” She hasn’t been with her mom or dad since she was ten. It made me realize that I have no room for self-pity this Christmas.

“She’s not happy about it,” Nikolai replies. “This is actually the only year she hasn’t complained. Though it’s more because of you than suddenly not caring.” Our breath smokes the air. “She’s auditioning in January too.”

I frown. “What?”

“For Noctis,” he clarifies, stone-faced and brick-walled. “She landed the full-in, full-out last night, and she’s been able to repeat it just as well.”

“That’s great,” I say, trying to be happy for her. She’s accomplishing her dreams. She worked hard for it, but…I know if she leaves on a traveling circus show, I won’t ever see her again. You won’t see her if you leave too, Thora.

Right.

My stay here may be temporary as well.

I strain my neck to look up at him. If I miss Katya, his feelings have to be stronger. “What are the odds she’ll make it?” I ask him.

“High.” He stops by a towering lopsided tree, to keep some distance between us and his sister while we talk. “She’s wanted to be with them since the day she left, so this is good.” He nods like he’s trying to convince himself.

“And you’ll still have Luka and Timo here.”

His brows harden, and his darker gaze falls to me. “Luka has been working on a new discipline. There’s a good chance they’ll either put him in Somnio or Infini soon. He has better use there than as a porter.”

I digest this. “So that leaves you with Timo—”

“Kat! I found a winner!” Timo rounds the corner, his fingers cupped to his mouth as he yells. His pink fingers are exposed from his cut-off gloves.

Katya spins on her heels. “Is it big?!”

Timo snorts. “Who do you think I am? It’s the biggest one in this place.”

Nikolai makes a noise that sounds close to a groan. I can tell he’s picturing himself carrying the tree into the hotel. “You were saying about Timo?” he asks me.

I rub his back, trying not to smile too much. He loves his little brother, despite the irritations. “Sorry,” I apologize with a grimace. “In my defense, I had no idea Timo would want the largest tree.”

“He lives his life in excess,” Nikolai reminds me. “He wants the biggest, grandest everything. And he’ll take too much enjoyment watching me lug the fucking thing inside.”

After Thanksgiving though, their relationship is much better. They haven’t had a drag-out screaming match since then. Now when they poke jabs at each other, they’re the friendly kind, not the ones with undercut, hurt feelings.

I look up at him again. Masculine, his hair disheveled in the wind. His jaw unshaven. His eyes piercingly gray. The moment he meets my ogling gaze, his lips curve up. “You’re supposed to stare at me like I’m a devil, not a god.”

Wittier words actually come to me, my face lighting before I say, “I think you’ve always been both.”

Nikolai clasps me by the waist and draws me behind the crooked tree, large enough to conceal us from the gravel pathway. It’s too hard to hide my smile or stop my heart from racing. I just travel with the feelings.

Nik lifts me up around his waist, so my lips align more with his, and he kisses me deeply, slowly, his hand warming the back of my neck.

And then my phone buzzes in my army-green cargo jacket. I break our lips apart. “…it could be my mom.” Though if she could see me now, legs wrapped around a six-foot-five acrobat’s waist, I wonder what she’d say.

“Tell her I said hi,” Nikolai says. He needs to be liked by my parents if we ever want to make this long-term. He knows how much they mean to me.

“Sure…” I trail off as I check the caller ID: SHAY. “Or maybe not.” I hesitate to answer, on account of Shay and Nikolai fighting that one time. I never mention Shay to him. Or vice versa.

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Krista Ritchie's Novels
» Fuel the Fire (Calloway Sisters #3)
» Hothouse Flower (Calloway Sisters #2)
» Addicted After All (Addicted #3)
» Thrive (Addicted #2.5)
» Amour Amour
» Kiss the Sky
» Addicted to You (Addicted #1)
» Ricochet (Addicted #1.5)
» Addicted for Now (Addicted #2)