It doesn’t take long for my orgasm to build up again. I gasp when he encircles the pad of his finger over my clit, teasing me in the perfect position as I push my ass against his hard cock. Niklaus brings his other hand around and places it at my throat as he continues to whisper filthy nothings int
VerenaAs we stand at Dante and Keilani’s private landing zone, I take a deep breath, letting the early afternoon air fill my lungs. Niklaus’s jet waits for us on the tarmac, sleek and ready to whisk us away. Axton and Laz left a day ago to get things ready back home, but saying goodbye to Dante and
VerenaTouching down in New York feels like stepping into a storm. The weight of everything Niklaus and I have been through crashes into me, but there’s no time to process it all. As soon as we land, we head straight for the pack house. The ride is silent, tension hanging in the air like a thick fog
*** I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, flipping through a book Niklaus left on the nightstand, when Kristina knocks softly on the door. Her face appears, a mix of relief and weariness as she sees me. I motion her in, my heart aching a little at her stricken expression.“Hey, Kristina,” I greet her,
NiklausI lean back in my chair; the leather creaking under the shift of my weight, and rub at the bridge of my nose, feeling the onset of a headache. Laz sits across from me, his expression grim. The maps and various reports spread out between us only adding to the sense of chaos that has settled
VerenaFeeling queasy again, I clutch the edge of the sink, my reflection in the mirror a ghostly shade of pale. These past few days have been a whirlwind of nausea and exhaustion, with Niklaus playing the unexpected role of caretaker. He’s been incredibly supportive, even though we’re both clueless
VerenaThe kitchen smells like garlic and basil, the warm aromas mingling as I stir the marinara sauce simmering on the stove. I’ve decided to make spaghetti carbonara, Niklaus’s favorite, hoping to infuse some normalcy and comfort into our evening after the tumultuous events of the past few days.B
NiklausI’m pacing my office, the clink of ice in my whiskey glass barely audible over the storm of thoughts raging in my mind. I pour another drink, the amber liquid doing little to soothe the churn of emotions. Anger, fear, regret—it’s a toxic cocktail, and I’ve gulped it down greedily.I’m pissed