Fyodor X Nikolai Novels & Stories

It was hardly a question this time. Kilvic could easily disagree, but having had similar encounters with the boy, he knew it had to be an answer he would believe if he was to avoid continued pestering. “I would say—” “Fyodan,” Gyra’s voice scolded from somewhere inside the room before he stepped out a moment later in his uniform trouser and an unbuttoned shirt revealing his torso. “Stop trying to provoke the boy.” Fyodan ignored Kilvic almost immediately and turned his dimpled smile on the head student. “But it’s so much fun,” he whined. “And I still haven’t gotten a reaction out of him.”

Every thrust sent sparks through me. “Nikolai,” I gasped, forgetting to use his title. His grip on my hip tightened. “Say it again.” “Nikolai,” I moaned louder this time. The tension built higher and higher until I shattered completely, crying out as waves of pleasure crashed through me. He followed moments later with a deep groan, falling his forehead against my shoulder.

, Mr Vladimir called back. Seeing them together, I can see the striking resemblance. I can't help but notice how much Nikolai looks like his father. They share the same dark, piercing eyes and chiseled features that seem chiseled from granite. Their sharp jawlines and noses are identical, giving them an intimidating presence.

They are both fuccking wealthy and are only doing this for fun. Nikolai reaches out for his glass of vodka and has been rejecting the cigar Mikhail has been offering to him. He has stopped smoking. I noticed that. Alexei is the only one who does not naturally smoke among us. I'm not a heavy smoker. Nikolai and Mikhail are, or Nikolai was. He has changed. “Isn't that Viktor's nanny?” Alexei suddenly asks and my eyes travel in a direction. I tilt my head and I look through the transparent glass to see Milana with her friend Zoya and two other men. And what is she wearing? Why is she even here?

I say softly. Biting inside of his cheek not to burst with excitement he walked forward with an outstretched hand which with a full blown smile I nudged a grumpy Tagon to hand him over. “Ni..ko…Lai.” Fidelis spelled out his name, tears brimming on his lashes I couldn't stop myself from tearing up. “He’s everything…” he reveals, stroking little Nikolai’s cheek who was fast asleep after being breastfed.

“Sit with me.” They sat in the dining room and began tasting the dishes together. Sandra asked suddenly, “What’s your favorite food? Color? Movie? Hobby?” Natalia laughed. “Mother, you don’t need to—” “I do,” Sandra insisted softly. “I missed too much.” Natalia’s smile faltered into something tender. “Okay… my favorite food is pelmeni. My favorite color is blue. I don’t really have a favorite movie. And my hobby?” She grinned. “Fighting. Dedushka trained me, even though he refused to let me fight in real battles. Said it was only for my protection.”

He was basically ruining the purpose of spending Fifth million in charity. Aleksandr Fedorov was breaking his image He had established as a Billionaire, at this moment He was nothing else than The Bratva Pakhan. The merciless monster. The man whose name was whispered with fear in the whole Russian And Chicago. And New York was soon going to learn to follow their lead.

I watched him from a distance, feeling the vast chasm between our worlds wider than ever. He was a king preparing for a siege, and I was just the girl who had cleaned his wounds in a one-bedroom apartment. Suddenly, a hand gripped my shoulder. I gasped, spinning around to find Nikolai standing behind me. He looked even more disheveled than he had at the cabin, his grey eyes wide and flickering with a restless, manic light. “The martyr and the monster,” Nikolai whispered, looking past me toward Ivan. “He thinks he can save you and the empire at the same time. He is a fool.”

"I think that's his idea, yes." Nik turns a light shade of green at the thought. "Nope. Not with that guy. Who the hell is he, anyway?" She sighs and swipes through her phone to pull up files. I'd bet a testicle she has everything from the guy's birth certificate to the location of his prepaid burial plot. "Arlo Fedorov, fifty-eight years old. Russian national. Got married to Sasha Moskowitz Federov only two years after Otets and Mama got married. Three kids, all healthy. Wife is dead, though. Passed five years ago from ovarian cancer."

Werewolf warrior princes, like Nikolai, had brief childhoods. Despite Beatrice protests, Niķolai had been training hard alongside his father since he was a child, and he’d been taught to be fierce and ruthless to his enemies. Contrary to what Akari had said, he never broke a treaty unless grievously provoked by the Federation, and when the Federation launched Operation Victory, he was the Battle Commander of all their forces. He had thrown the logistical futility of attempting such a massive invasion along such unmaintainable distances back in their faces and shoved it down their collective throat.