“My hand,” I say in a thoroughly unaffected tone. He squeezes more. “What about it?” “Let it go.” “Do I have to? It’s kind of soft and nice.” He tightens his hold again, mushing the fingers together, and I have to stifle a goddamn…groan? What in the bleeding livid gates of hell? Pain. It’s only pain. “I need my hand, so yes, you have to release it, Nikolai.” “Fuck. I love the way you say my name.
