Bravery’s Sin: Masters’ Admiralty, book 5, page 11
Nyx looked quizzically down at him. “I’ve watched a considerable amount of ethically produced pornography and I’ve never—”
Grigoris reached out, grabbed her panties, and yanked them down to her ankles in one quick movement.
Nyx gasped and wobbled but found her balance.
“Step out of them.”
Gingerly, she did, and Grigoris rubbed the damp fabric between his finger and thumb. “You’re already wet.”
Nyx’s shoulders hunched with embarrassment and she turned her face into her arm.
“No,” he said. “Look at me. I want to see your face when I touch you.”
Nyx looked down at him, and he wished he could see her better because he was certain there was a blush on her cheeks. He’d never seen her blush. Later…
There was no later for them. Not really. She’d said short-term affair, so clearly Nyx wasn’t imagining this as a one-night stand, but for them, “later” was a brief and fleeting thing.
Grigoris tucked her panties into his pocket, then set his hands on her ankles and started his exploration. He stroked her calves and the back of her knees, placed hot, open-mouthed kisses on her thighs that left damp patches of skin. He blew on one and watched her shiver.
When he went north, toward her sex, Nyx held her breath. He cupped her ass, kneading the cheeks before separating them slightly. She made a little yipping noise of surprise.
“Shhh,” he reminded her, “you have to be quiet.”
“Are you going to touch me?”
“You mean am I going to slide my fingers deep into your pussy? Am I going to spread you open and lick your clit?” He made sure his mouth was close enough that she’d feel the puff of air as he spoke.
“Yes…that.”
“Say it, Nyx. I want to hear the words.”
“I’m not…I’ve…”
“And I’ve never seen you at a loss for words.” Grigoris blew gently over her pussy, which was neatly trimmed, then bypassed it, kissing the skin just below her belly button.
“You are a diabolical man.”
“And you are a delectable woman.” He kissed his way up her torso, as high as he could reach. “Drop your arms.”
Nyx tentatively lowered her hands from the ceiling, her palms nervously tapping her thighs.
“Remember, stay quiet,” he warned.
“What are you going—”
Grigoris hooked his hands behind her knees and yanked. She toppled back, arms windmilling for a moment before she bounced down onto the plush mattress, the downy duvet cradling her body. Grigoris planted one knee between her legs, inching them open, then leaned forward.
She looked up at him, wide-eyed, and smiling with an almost innocent delight.
“Enjoy that?” he asked.
“Unexpected,” she answered.
“I’ll take that as a yes, and I think you’ll enjoy this even more.” He lowered his mouth to her chest and took her right nipple into his mouth.
Nyx gasped and her fingers slid into his hair, tightening until his scalp tingled. He smiled against her and swirled his tongue around her nipple before flicking the tip a few times.
Nyx’s hips rose, bumping into his abdomen. He transferred his attention to her other breast. Bracing his weight on one elbow, he used the other hand to toy with her now-wet nipple.
He started gently, stroking and circling, listening to her breathing and the small noises of pleasure she made, keeping his tongue’s attention to her other nipple consistent. After toying with her long enough that her skin had dried, and her hips were rising and falling of their own accord, he intensified the contact. Pinching her nipple gently, he gave it a little twist. Nyx sucked in air and held it. He twisted her nipple between finger and thumb, as if rotating a dial. Nyx shrieked in pleasure.
He raised his mouth from her breast, releasing her with a pop. “Shh…” he whispered.
“I need…”
“What do you need?”
“I need you to touch me.”
“Ah, ah, ah.” He kissed her sternum, her chin. “You’ll have to be more specific. Which part of me do you want touching you and where?”
“I want…I think I want you to either…” She paused to clear her throat, and though he couldn’t see it, he could hear the blush in her voice. “I would like you to manually stimulate my vulva and clitoris.”
Grigoris ducked his head so she wouldn’t see his smile. She was so intelligent and so well-spoken that her current discomfiture was, for lack of a better word, cute.
He switched arms so he could play with the nipple that had, until now, only been touched by his lips. He didn’t wait as long this time to transition from soft touches to more forceful twisting and plucking.
“Try again, omorfia. What do you want?”
“I told you.” The words were breathy.
“You gave me clinical terms. I like to talk dirty, and I want to hear you talk dirty.”
“You are infuriating,” Nyx whispered.
“Maybe I am. And maybe I’m going to give you everything you want. Maybe, if you talk dirty, and beg, I’ll slide my cock so deep inside you that you’ll forget your own name.”
“Doubtful,” she gasped, but as she said it, she was arching up into his hand, only to fall back and raise her hips.
Grigoris was hit with a wave of love, and it softened both his amusement and his desire to hear her explicitly say what she wanted. He tugged her panties from his pocket, laying them on the bed, then rose.
Nyx looked up, her face registering shocked dismay for a moment before her expression shuttered. She started to roll away, but he grabbed her legs, yanking her down the bed far enough that he could spread, and then step between, her knees.
“Look at me, Nyx.”
She glanced at him, her body relaxing back into the bed as it became clear he hadn’t been leaving her. He dropped his hands to his waistband, unfastening his pants.
Slowly—since he had no desire to get any part of his cock stuck in the zipper—he finished unfastening his pants. His cock was hard, but trapped in his boxer briefs. From the wide-eyed look she gave his crotch, she was either nervous or impressed. Given that this was her first time, he was guessing nervous.
Slowly, Grigoris lowered both his underwear and pants, stepping out of them when they fell to the floor.
Nyx inhaled deeply then blew out a breath. “I’m well aware of the mechanics of the act of copulation—”
“You know how sex works.”
“—but I admit the physical reality of an erect phallus—”
“My cock, which is rock-hard because of how much I want you.”
“—is somewhat disconcerting.”
Grigoris grabbed her hand. “Nyx. It’s me. Look at me.” She raised her gaze to his, and he smiled softly. “I won’t hurt you.”
The tension around her mouth and between her eyebrows smoothed out. “I know. And I trust you.”
He guided her hand to his cock, wrapping it around the shaft. She was tentative for a moment before she started to explore him with her hand. Featherlight touches traced the shaft and head. She tentatively curled her fingers around his balls, then went back to his cock. She wrapped her hand firmly around him and stroked up and down.
Grigoris grabbed her wrist, his breathing labored. “Stop.”
“Did I hurt you?”
“No, but if you don’t stop, I’m going to come on your stomach.” That thought reminded him that he didn’t have a condom. “Hold on, I need to check for protection.”
“I’m on birth control,” she said softly. “I won’t mind if you…if you ejaculate inside of me.”
He lifted her hand, kissing her knuckles. He held his lips there, eyes closed, fighting down the knot of impatience churning inside. Holding back, taking the care he needed, was going to be almost impossible. It wasn’t helped by the voice in the back of his head that warned this could be it. Tonight could be all they ever got.
He sucked in a long, deep breath. And then another.
Finally sure he was back under control, Grigoris lowered her hand back to his cock. “You touch me while I touch you.”
With his hips between her outstretched knees, Grigoris finally slid his hand to her pussy. She jumped, shocked when he cupped her, letting her simply feel the weight of his hand. Her fingers tightened around his cock, and he had to bite the edge of his tongue to make sure her gentle, tentative touch didn’t send him over the edge.
Carefully, he parted her pussy lips, exposing her soft, slick core.
Nyx’s breathing was uneven, and her free hand went to her breast, pinching and plucking the nipple. Grigoris slid two fingers up and down the valley of her pussy as he watched her play with herself.
She wrapped her legs around him, hooking her ankles together at the small of his back, which spread her knees open even wider. In reward, he brought his fingers to her clit and started to circle it, a soft, steady rhythm.
“Your clit is so soft. Next time, I’m going to spread you open and study you, then taste you.” Around and around he stroked the smooth, wet bud, her breathing speeding up with each rotation.
“Once you come, we’ll scoot up on the bed so I can fuck you,” he said softly, his own breathing a tad choppy. Nyx’s fingers were still on his cock, squeezing and relaxing rhythmically. “I don’t want you to feel trapped, so you’re going to be on top and—”
“I want you on top,” Nyx burst out. “I want you on top of me while you slide your cock into my pussy. I want you to fuck me hard and I want to feel you heavy on top of me. I want you to…no. I’m begging you. Touch me. Fuck me. L—”
Her delicious stream of dirty talk cut off as her eyes shot open wide and her mouth opened to scream in pleasure.
He’d thought she was close, could feel the rising tension in her legs. Grabbing her panties, he stuffed them in her mouth, even as his fingers kept circling her clit. She arched up off the bed like a drawn bow, and her thigh muscles quaking, one hand fisted around his cock, the other digging into her breast until the flesh plumped up between her fingers.
As her orgasm started to recede and she collapsed back onto the bed, he pressed his thumb to her clit and slid his long middle finger deep inside her. She arched up once again, screaming into her panties.
“You like it when I finger-fuck you while playing with your clit, don’t you?”
She nodded frantically.
“Want me to fuck you?”
More nodding, and now she pulled on his cock, drawing it toward her pussy. Grigoris slid one arm under her, lifted her enough so that as he climbed onto the mattress, he was able to slide her to the middle of the bed.
“Spread your legs. Good girl. Now put your heels on the bed. Yeah, like that.” He guided her into position, and then plucked the panties from her mouth. She’d come, but he was still half-mad with need. “Could you taste yourself? Next time I’m going to taste you.”
“I want that,” she whispered. “I want you to lick my pussy.”
That was it. His control was at the breaking point. “I’m going to fuck you now. You tell me if it hurts.”
“And if I want it to hurt?” She frowned briefly. “In a sexually masochistic way, not a self-flagellation way.”
Grigoris briefly dropped his head to her breasts, huffing out a breath. “We’ll explore all that later—rough sex, some kink. But right now it’s just about us.”
“Us,” she breathed.
Grigoris shifted his hips, planting his elbows alongside her torso. “Wrap your arms around me.”
Nyx slid her fingers into his hair, lifting herself enough to kiss him softly. “I’m glad you’re my first,” she whispered.
Grigoris didn’t have the words, not anymore. He flexed his hips, the head of his cock finding the warm, wet valley of her pussy. He slid down to her entrance, her breathy gasps the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.
“Nyx, look at me,” Grigoris said.
Nyx met his gaze, and there was something so innocent and trusting in the way she was looking at him. He doubted someone who didn’t know her, didn’t understand her the way he did, would be able to see it.
Grigoris slid the head of his cock into her body. Her eyes rounded, and he held still, though he was shaking with the need to thrust in deep, to claim her in the most primal way.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No. No. It feels…right.”
Grigoris maintained eye contact as he slowly, centimeter by centimeter, slid all the way in. When he was fully seated inside her, he had to close his eyes. The combination of the physical stimulation of her body tight around his cock and the emotional stimulation of looking at her were too much.
She sighed against his neck and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Make me yours,” she whispered.
“You are mine,” he growled. “Mine.” He withdrew halfway then slid in again.
Nyx sucked in air, and he sealed his lips over hers, muffling the sound of her shrieks of pleasure as he started to fuck her in truth. He wanted it to last forever, but he was too ready, and she felt too good in his arms. He felt her tense once more, either another orgasm or a residual one from before, and then go limp under him. That evidence of complete satisfaction was all he needed to finally allow himself to find his own release. He thrust in once, twice, a third time, and then he was muffling his own sounds of pleasure against her shoulder.
He collapsed down on her, breathing hard, for only a moment before holding her tight and rolling so she was on top of him, his still-hard cock inside her. Nyx sighed heavily and nestled her head in the hollow of his neck. He stretched out his arms, gathering the sides of the duvet and flipping the soft comforter over the top of them.
Even as he closed his eyes, Grigoris acknowledged he’d just experienced the most important event in his life.
And for the first time, he questioned whether he’d have the strength to do the right thing. If he’d be able to walk away from her when the time came.
Chapter Nine
He was moving before the sound fully registered. At some point in the night, Nyx had slid off him and was curled up with her back against his side, her butt nestled against his hip. One moment Grigoris was asleep and content. The next he was in motion, instincts developed from years of maintaining the safety of Ottoman members in a territory rife with political upheaval triggered a response before his brain had fully registered exactly what the sound was.
Gunshots.
Two echoing cracks, muffled by walls and distance, but clear and recognizable.
“Grigoris?” Nyx asked sleepily, rising on one elbow.
“Those were gunshots. Grab some of my clothes, get dressed. Be ready to run if I come back for you.”
“Gunshots?” She sat up, crossing her arms, holding the blanket to her torso.
Grigoris hiked his pants into place and fastened them, quickly and efficiently sliding knives into pockets and hidden sheaths with the ease of practice. He grabbed a long-sleeved T-shirt, shrugging it on. “Stay here. Be ready to run.”
“Don’t go out there.” Nyx rose to her knees on the bed, eyes wide in the darkness. Her hair was silvery pale in the moonlight. “Stay with me.”
Leaving her would always be difficult, but if there was a threat outside this room, he wanted to deal with it head-on and on his own. She would be safer here. Protecting her…loving her…they were the same thing, held the same level of importance for him. A world without Nyx wasn’t something he ever wanted to consider. “I want to, o ángelós mou, but I need you to trust me to do my job.”
Less than two minutes had passed since he’d heard the shots, and now there were other sounds—shouts, the faint pounding of footsteps. Nyx’s gaze slid to the door and there was fear in her eyes.
“Nyx.” He said her name like a command, and her attention jerked to him. Her breath was a little uneven, and he could only pray that she wasn’t going to have a flashback-induced panic attack. In Bucharest, Ciril had used the panic and confusion caused by bombs going off to grab Nyx. He held her gaze, and then winked, smiling as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
Nyx blinked in surprise, her body relaxing a bit. “Grigoris, you shouldn’t go out there.”
“I’ll be right back. Be ready for me.” He winked again, and he thought he saw her blush.
Before she could say anything else, he slid out the door. The moment he was in the corridor, the smile slid from his face. He glanced up and down the hall. A few of the other doors were open, and sleepy-looking dinner guests were peering into the hall. He motioned silently for each of them to go back into their rooms. Nikolett Varda looked like she was going to argue. He frowned and started in her direction, when a scream pierced the air.
Grigoris took off running.
He took the stairs two at a time and paused for only a moment, listening, before turning on the ball of his foot and racing toward the room Nyx had pointed out as Petro’s office.
A harcos jumped from the shadows, raising a Hungarian saber. Grigoris skidded to a halt, managing not to decapitate himself. At the same time, he slid his long knife from the sheath hidden under his sleeve, raising it in a wicked underhanded slice.
The harcos’ eyes widened as he and Grigoris stared at one another, frozen in place, a saber inches from Grigoris’ throat, the tip of his knife against the other man’s belly.
“What happened?” Grigoris asked in English. Now would be a good time to use what little Hungarian he knew, but with his adrenaline up, he needed to speak one of the languages he was fluent in.
The man—who Grigoris was fairly sure was named Ivan—responded in kind. “The admiral was shot.”
“Shooter?”
The door to Petro’s office burst open and a blood-covered, wide-eyed Hanna stood there. She said something in a language Grigoris didn’t know—Ukrainian, possibly?—then started to sob.
Grigoris and Ivan sheathed their weapons, but it seemed like Hanna hadn’t really seen them.
Ivan responded to her, then quickly ushered her back into the study. Grigoris went with them, pulling the door closed.
