Bound by lies, Trapped by Desire - Chapter 45: Chapter 45
You are reading Bound by lies, Trapped by Desire, Chapter 45: Chapter 45. Read more chapters of Bound by lies, Trapped by Desire.
Nikolai’s POV:
What the hell was I doing?
It was a real question—one I’d been trying not to ask myself since Monday morning when I woke up next to her again. And Tuesday. And Wednesday. And… well. Every night except Thursday, and even then, I’d sat in the damn kitchen past midnight, staring at her like a fucking addict trying to stay clean. I wasn’t proud of it.
My heart was doing somersaults—no, summer salts, like some sunburned gymnast slapping the floor of my ribcage. This wasn’t what I was supposed to be doing. The contract said five nights a week. Five. But somehow, I’d made it six. On purpose. And now I was one sharp look from her away from making it seven.
God, I was losing it.
I wanted to fuck her constantly. And I didn’t mean that in some crude, one-track-mind kind of way. It wasn’t just the sex. I wanted her pressed against me, breathing against my collarbone, her hair a mess, the scent of her honey shampoo surrounding me, her voice rasped from moaning too loud. I wanted her arguing with me over the thermostat again. I wanted her to sit across from me at breakfast, and compliment me on my cooking skills. Like she’d been doing everyday. Because for some reason her compliments made me want to do more for her.
But of course… she was keeping her distance. Emotionally, at least. Not physically. I could see that, I wasn’t blind. She was being way too careful about what she said or asked now.
I wasn’t blind. I knew why. Especially after she’d asked me that question in the Kitchen a week ago. Why was I being so nice to her? How was I supposed to answer that when even I didn’t know? I had an inkling that it might be due to the homely feeling at her house, which I had never experienced before.
But I was a Vetrov.
Her mother had said it to my face. Vetrov men weren’t known for loyalty. And while I knew I wasn’t like the rest of them… how the hell was Elena supposed to believe that? Knowing this was all just a contract with a time limit.
I didn’t exactly come with a good reference.
Still, for someone keeping her emotional distance, she certainly didn’t object when I told her we were going dress shopping. Thankfully.
Elena probably stood in front of the mirror now, inside the changing room, her hair down and tucked behind her ears. I was already seated, pretending to be casual, my elbow propped on the arm of the faux-velvet bench like I wasn’t about to combust. I couldn’t stop imagining her naked back as she slowly pulled the zipper of her dress up. Fuck if I didn’t control my imagination I was going to get a boner sitting here.
But the moment she stepped out—wearing that velvet-touched wine red dress that clung to her waist and stopped mid-calf—my brain short-circuited. Her collar bones—one of my most favourite features about her—looked amazing in that dress. But that wasn’t just it. She looked amazing in red.
Her mossy green eyes locked with mine, and I swallowed, hard.
She tilted her head slightly, uncertain. “Well?”
I stood up too quickly, ignoring the look the store attendant gave me. I shot him a glance sharp enough to cut, and he understood immediately—backed off and left like he was never even there.
“Come here,” I murmured.
She barely had time to open her mouth before I was pulling her back into the dressing room, my hand around her wrist, firm but not rough. She yelped softly, eyes wide.
The door clicked shut behind us.
The room was small, just a wooden bench, a row of metal hooks with stray hangers, a shelf stacked with a box of tissues, safety pins, hair clips. One full mirrored wall. Not exactly ideal. But I didn’t give a damn.
I pressed her against the wall, hands on either side of her head, and kissed her.
She melted. Just like I knew she would. Just like she had, multiple times before.
Her gasp against my mouth sent a bolt straight to my gut. I didn’t waste time. My hand slid down her waist, grabbing the back of her thigh, pulling her leg up so her dress hiked higher. Her skin was warm and soft under my palm, and when I pressed my fingers between her legs, I felt the heat through the damp lace.
“Already?” I whispered, lips brushing her jaw.
“Nikolai!” she hissed, shoving my shoulder, eyes frantic. “Are you insane?! We’re outside. Your employees are outside!”
I smirked, leaning in to press my forehead against hers. “They’re my employees. Paid to keep their traps shut.”
Her expression was equal parts horrified and turned on, which made me grin even more. Her pupils were already blown wide, her breathing uneven. She could act mad all she wanted—her body told the real story.
I pulled her panties down. Her hands gripped the hook rack behind her, knuckles white. I was going to hell, no doubt. But I’d take the express lane if it meant getting to taste her again, in this dress.
She cried out softly when I slid into her, lifting her up with her back against the mirror, her legs locking around me, her hands grasping for my shirt, my hair, anything.
The dressing room echoed with the sound of quiet, wet thrusts and the stuttered breath of someone trying not to scream. My hand clamped over her mouth, both of us knowing damn well how thin the walls were. She clenched around me and I knew—I knew she was close.
But just before I tipped over, I forced myself to pull out, biting back a curse as I grabbed a handful of tissues and finished into them. It was clumsy. The kind of thing a teenager would do. However, I’d rather not have our date be spoiled with my wife becoming uncomfortable, walking around with my cum inside of her. Even though that sounded hot as fuck.
Would she be up to trying plugs maybe? If she had a pain kink then maybe she’d be up for a little more….
I caught her staring at me then, like I was deranged. “You’re insane.”
“You say that like you didn’t come harder than usual,” I shot back, grinning.
She gaped at me, flushed from the neck up. “I hate you.”
“Oh no you don’t.” I smirked. “You know. I’m wondering…..”
She hooked her brow in question, “How the hell am I supposed to go back to normal sex after this?”
She rolled her eyes, thunking her head back against the mirror with a groan. “That’s what you’re worried about? Oh my god, Nikolai, I can’t go outside like this.”
Her dress was wrinkled. Her hair, tousled. Her lips swollen. She looked incredible. I bit my lip, half to suppress my laughter and half to keep from pulling her back onto the bench and starting round two.
“Stay here,” I said, kissing her temple. “I’ll be right back.”
She blinked. “Wait—what?”
But I was already out the door, walking like I hadn’t just committed a public sex act in a retail changing room. Well, at least it was my own store. I waved the clerk over, handed over my card, and gestured toward a new dress I had spotted earlier—emerald green, off-the-shoulder, knee-length with a tight waist and circle skirt. It was more casual
I paid for both, had them bag the green one, and walked back to the dressing room. The green one was an extra she could wear for the date.
I knocked.
“Put on the green one,” I said through the door. “T-shirt and jeans go in the bag.”
“What?”
“Trust me.”
A long pause. Then some rustling.
When she stepped out a few minutes later, it took everything in me not to let my jaw drop.
She gave me the red dress, back on the hanger. But I shook my head.
“Keep it,” I said before she could speak. “It suits you. Wear that tomorrow.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, clearly flustered. “Is this bribery for keeping up with your shit?” She pointed at the dress she now wore.
“Yup.”
She opened her mouth, then shut it. Her ears were red. I smirked, stepping aside to let her walk past me out of the store.
She looked like she was trying very hard to walk normally. I let her try.
Once we reached the car and buckled in, I looked over at her.
“You know,” I said, “we still have time left tonight.”
She glanced at me, suspicious. “And?”
“Wanna go to the drive-in cinema?” I asked casually. “We could try having sex in the car.”
Elena’s eyes widened, and she practically recoiled in her seat. “Nikolai?!”
I grinned, turning the key in the ignition. “Just a suggestion.”
“God, you’re actually insane,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Is that a no?”
She turned her head slowly, narrowing her eyes. “We’re not doing anything in a car.”
“But we could try—”
“No.”
I smirked. She’ll come around. Not now, but maybe someday she’ll be open to trying it. Not that I had ever tried car sex before. But with her? I had a feeling it would be as mind blowing as doing it in the office, if not better.
What the hell was I doing?
It was a real question—one I’d been trying not to ask myself since Monday morning when I woke up next to her again. And Tuesday. And Wednesday. And… well. Every night except Thursday, and even then, I’d sat in the damn kitchen past midnight, staring at her like a fucking addict trying to stay clean. I wasn’t proud of it.
My heart was doing somersaults—no, summer salts, like some sunburned gymnast slapping the floor of my ribcage. This wasn’t what I was supposed to be doing. The contract said five nights a week. Five. But somehow, I’d made it six. On purpose. And now I was one sharp look from her away from making it seven.
God, I was losing it.
I wanted to fuck her constantly. And I didn’t mean that in some crude, one-track-mind kind of way. It wasn’t just the sex. I wanted her pressed against me, breathing against my collarbone, her hair a mess, the scent of her honey shampoo surrounding me, her voice rasped from moaning too loud. I wanted her arguing with me over the thermostat again. I wanted her to sit across from me at breakfast, and compliment me on my cooking skills. Like she’d been doing everyday. Because for some reason her compliments made me want to do more for her.
But of course… she was keeping her distance. Emotionally, at least. Not physically. I could see that, I wasn’t blind. She was being way too careful about what she said or asked now.
I wasn’t blind. I knew why. Especially after she’d asked me that question in the Kitchen a week ago. Why was I being so nice to her? How was I supposed to answer that when even I didn’t know? I had an inkling that it might be due to the homely feeling at her house, which I had never experienced before.
But I was a Vetrov.
Her mother had said it to my face. Vetrov men weren’t known for loyalty. And while I knew I wasn’t like the rest of them… how the hell was Elena supposed to believe that? Knowing this was all just a contract with a time limit.
I didn’t exactly come with a good reference.
Still, for someone keeping her emotional distance, she certainly didn’t object when I told her we were going dress shopping. Thankfully.
Elena probably stood in front of the mirror now, inside the changing room, her hair down and tucked behind her ears. I was already seated, pretending to be casual, my elbow propped on the arm of the faux-velvet bench like I wasn’t about to combust. I couldn’t stop imagining her naked back as she slowly pulled the zipper of her dress up. Fuck if I didn’t control my imagination I was going to get a boner sitting here.
But the moment she stepped out—wearing that velvet-touched wine red dress that clung to her waist and stopped mid-calf—my brain short-circuited. Her collar bones—one of my most favourite features about her—looked amazing in that dress. But that wasn’t just it. She looked amazing in red.
Her mossy green eyes locked with mine, and I swallowed, hard.
She tilted her head slightly, uncertain. “Well?”
I stood up too quickly, ignoring the look the store attendant gave me. I shot him a glance sharp enough to cut, and he understood immediately—backed off and left like he was never even there.
“Come here,” I murmured.
She barely had time to open her mouth before I was pulling her back into the dressing room, my hand around her wrist, firm but not rough. She yelped softly, eyes wide.
The door clicked shut behind us.
The room was small, just a wooden bench, a row of metal hooks with stray hangers, a shelf stacked with a box of tissues, safety pins, hair clips. One full mirrored wall. Not exactly ideal. But I didn’t give a damn.
I pressed her against the wall, hands on either side of her head, and kissed her.
She melted. Just like I knew she would. Just like she had, multiple times before.
Her gasp against my mouth sent a bolt straight to my gut. I didn’t waste time. My hand slid down her waist, grabbing the back of her thigh, pulling her leg up so her dress hiked higher. Her skin was warm and soft under my palm, and when I pressed my fingers between her legs, I felt the heat through the damp lace.
“Already?” I whispered, lips brushing her jaw.
“Nikolai!” she hissed, shoving my shoulder, eyes frantic. “Are you insane?! We’re outside. Your employees are outside!”
I smirked, leaning in to press my forehead against hers. “They’re my employees. Paid to keep their traps shut.”
Her expression was equal parts horrified and turned on, which made me grin even more. Her pupils were already blown wide, her breathing uneven. She could act mad all she wanted—her body told the real story.
I pulled her panties down. Her hands gripped the hook rack behind her, knuckles white. I was going to hell, no doubt. But I’d take the express lane if it meant getting to taste her again, in this dress.
She cried out softly when I slid into her, lifting her up with her back against the mirror, her legs locking around me, her hands grasping for my shirt, my hair, anything.
The dressing room echoed with the sound of quiet, wet thrusts and the stuttered breath of someone trying not to scream. My hand clamped over her mouth, both of us knowing damn well how thin the walls were. She clenched around me and I knew—I knew she was close.
But just before I tipped over, I forced myself to pull out, biting back a curse as I grabbed a handful of tissues and finished into them. It was clumsy. The kind of thing a teenager would do. However, I’d rather not have our date be spoiled with my wife becoming uncomfortable, walking around with my cum inside of her. Even though that sounded hot as fuck.
Would she be up to trying plugs maybe? If she had a pain kink then maybe she’d be up for a little more….
I caught her staring at me then, like I was deranged. “You’re insane.”
“You say that like you didn’t come harder than usual,” I shot back, grinning.
She gaped at me, flushed from the neck up. “I hate you.”
“Oh no you don’t.” I smirked. “You know. I’m wondering…..”
She hooked her brow in question, “How the hell am I supposed to go back to normal sex after this?”
She rolled her eyes, thunking her head back against the mirror with a groan. “That’s what you’re worried about? Oh my god, Nikolai, I can’t go outside like this.”
Her dress was wrinkled. Her hair, tousled. Her lips swollen. She looked incredible. I bit my lip, half to suppress my laughter and half to keep from pulling her back onto the bench and starting round two.
“Stay here,” I said, kissing her temple. “I’ll be right back.”
She blinked. “Wait—what?”
But I was already out the door, walking like I hadn’t just committed a public sex act in a retail changing room. Well, at least it was my own store. I waved the clerk over, handed over my card, and gestured toward a new dress I had spotted earlier—emerald green, off-the-shoulder, knee-length with a tight waist and circle skirt. It was more casual
I paid for both, had them bag the green one, and walked back to the dressing room. The green one was an extra she could wear for the date.
I knocked.
“Put on the green one,” I said through the door. “T-shirt and jeans go in the bag.”
“What?”
“Trust me.”
A long pause. Then some rustling.
When she stepped out a few minutes later, it took everything in me not to let my jaw drop.
She gave me the red dress, back on the hanger. But I shook my head.
“Keep it,” I said before she could speak. “It suits you. Wear that tomorrow.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, clearly flustered. “Is this bribery for keeping up with your shit?” She pointed at the dress she now wore.
“Yup.”
She opened her mouth, then shut it. Her ears were red. I smirked, stepping aside to let her walk past me out of the store.
She looked like she was trying very hard to walk normally. I let her try.
Once we reached the car and buckled in, I looked over at her.
“You know,” I said, “we still have time left tonight.”
She glanced at me, suspicious. “And?”
“Wanna go to the drive-in cinema?” I asked casually. “We could try having sex in the car.”
Elena’s eyes widened, and she practically recoiled in her seat. “Nikolai?!”
I grinned, turning the key in the ignition. “Just a suggestion.”
“God, you’re actually insane,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Is that a no?”
She turned her head slowly, narrowing her eyes. “We’re not doing anything in a car.”
“But we could try—”
“No.”
I smirked. She’ll come around. Not now, but maybe someday she’ll be open to trying it. Not that I had ever tried car sex before. But with her? I had a feeling it would be as mind blowing as doing it in the office, if not better.
End of Bound by lies, Trapped by Desire Chapter 45. Continue reading Chapter 46 or return to Bound by lies, Trapped by Desire book page.