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Nikolai Zhukov isn’t just under my skin—he’s in my veins. And the scariest part is I’m done fighting it.
“That’s my girl. How about you tell me what you want so that I can grant your every fucking wish.”
The question hits harder than it should. Because what I want is simple and impossible all at once—I want him.
“Oh, sweet wife, you have no idea what you do to me. Your smell, your skin, the sound of your goddamn voice haunts me. It’s like every sweet inch of you was made to drive me insane. Now I’m going to need you to hold on tight because I’m about to fuck you so hard, you’ll feel me for days.”
“Maybe we don’t make sense, but I’m not sure if that matters. It’s just right between us.”
Once again, Niko saved my life.
