Chapter 4

Nova's Pov

His growl vibrated through my chest, low and primal, the sound sinking straight between my thighs like a command I hadn’t agreed to obey.

He didn’t move at first—just held me there, pinned under the heavy press of his body, knee still wedged between mine, forcing them apart just enough to make me feel every inch of the space he controlled. His free hand slid up from the mattress, fingers trailing the inside of my wrist, slow, deliberate, until he reached the delicate skin at the crook of my elbow. Goosebumps raced ahead of his touch.

“You think you can provoke me and walk away unscathed?” His voice was rough silk now, dragged over gravel. Those starlit eyes locked on mine, gold flecks spinning faster, brighter, like a storm building inside him.

I arched a brow even though my heart was trying to hammer its way out of my ribs. “I think you’re the one who pinned me down, stranger. If anyone’s walking away unscathed, it’s looking like me so far.”

A dark chuckle rumbled from his throat. “Bold words for a girl whose pulse is racing like a rabbit under my thumb.”

He shifted his weight, sliding his knee higher until it nudged the sensitive heat between my legs. The pressure was light—teasing—but it sent a sharp, electric jolt straight through my core. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from gasping.

“Still talking,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of my ear. His breath was hot. “Let’s see how long that lasts.”

His mouth found the spot just below my jaw, not a kiss—more like a claim. Open-mouthed, slow drag of tongue and teeth, tasting the frantic beat of my pulse. I jerked involuntarily, hips lifting toward his knee before I could stop myself.

“There it is,” he whispered against my skin. “That’s what I wanted to feel.”

His hand left my wrist and slid down my side, fingers splaying wide over the curve of my ribs, then lower, tracing the dip of my waist, the flare of my hip. He hooked the hem of the silk dress and dragged it up inch by torturous inch, knuckles grazing the bare skin of my thigh as he went.

I sucked in a breath. “You’re awfully sure of yourself for a man who hasn’t asked permission.”

He lifted his head just enough to meet my eyes again. “You want me to stop?”

The question hung there, heavy and honest. His hand stilled on my thigh, thumb stroking lazy circles over the soft inner skin—close enough to my center that I could feel the heat radiating from his palm, but not touching. Not yet.

I could say yes. I could shove him off, walk out, keep my pride intact.

But my body was already answering for me—hips shifting, seeking more of that maddening pressure, thighs trembling around his knee.

“No,” I breathed. “Don’t stop.”

His eyes flared—gold exploding across the obsidian like fireworks in the dark.

“Good girl.”

The words hit me like a slap and a caress at once. I should have hated them. Instead they made my core clench hard.

He rewarded me by finally sliding his hand higher, cupping me through the thin lace of my panties. No teasing now—just firm, possessive pressure, heel of his palm grinding slow circles right over my clit.

A moan tore out of me before I could catch it.

He swallowed the sound with his mouth, kissing me deep and filthy, tongue stroking mine in the same lazy rhythm as his hand. I arched into him, fingers digging into his shoulders, nails biting through the fabric of his shirt. He tasted like storm and smoke and something darker—something that made me want to drown in it.

He broke the kiss only to trail his lips down my throat, teeth grazing my collarbone, then lower, nipping the swell of my breast through the silk. His free hand tugged the neckline down, baring one nipple to the cool air. He blew a soft breath over it, watching it pebble tight, then took it into his mouth—hot, wet suction that made my back bow off the bed.

“Fuck,” I gasped, fingers threading into his hair, holding him there.

He hummed around me, the vibration shooting straight to my core. His hand between my legs pressed harder, fingers slipping under the edge of my panties now, finding slick heat. He groaned against my skin when he felt how wet I was.

“So ready,” he rasped, voice wrecked. “All that sharp tongue and you’re dripping for me already.”

I tugged his hair harder, forcing his head up so I could glare at him through the haze. “Don’t get cocky. You’re not that good.”

He grinned—slow, dangerous, all teeth. “Challenge accepted.”

Two thick fingers slid inside me without warning, curling just right, thumb circling my clit in tight, relentless strokes.

My vision blurred. A broken cry ripped from my throat. My hips bucked against his hand, chasing the pressure, the stretch, the perfect drag against that spot that made stars burst behind my eyelids.

“That’s it,” he growled against my mouth. “Ride my fingers, little dancer. Show me how badly you need this.”

I did. Shamelessly. Grinding down on his hand, thighs shaking, breath coming in ragged pants. His mouth found mine again, swallowing every moan, every whimper, while his fingers fucked me deeper, faster, curling harder with every thrust.

Heat coiled low in my belly, tight and bright and unbearable.

“I’m—” The word dissolved into a sob.

“Come for me,” he ordered, voice rough velvet. “Let me feel you shatter.”

His thumb pressed down hard on my clit at the same moment his fingers curled again.

The world exploded.

Pleasure crashed through me in brutal waves, thighs clamping around his wrist, back arching so sharply I thought my spine might snap. I screamed his name—or tried to—but it came out as a choked, desperate sound swallowed by his kiss.

He worked me through it, slow now, gentle strokes that drew out every aftershock until I was trembling, boneless, clinging to him like he was the only solid thing left in the room.

When the tremors finally eased, he lifted his head, eyes still blazing, lips swollen and wet.

I stared up at him, chest heaving, body humming.

And then—because some part of me still refused to surrender completely—I managed a shaky, defiant smile.

“Is that all you’ve got, stranger?”

His gaze darkened. The gold in his eyes spun wild.

“Oh, little dancer,” he murmured, voice thick with promise. “We’re just getting started.”