Eliana heard the voice like a blade to her ribs.
"Nicky?"
Liv.
She felt Nicky tense behind her, his breath catch where it ghosted against her skin. Her body was still trembling—used, full, wrecked. Her thighs slick. Her nipples hard from sweat and leftover pleasure. But the sound of Liv's voice cut through all of it.
And in that terrible second, Eliana realized—
He might leave.
He might open that door.
He might walk out for her.
Nicky straightened slightly, eyes darting toward the door. His lips parted like he was about to say something. Like he was coming back to himself.
Eliana turned quickly, caught his face in her hands, and kissed him.
Hard.
Deep.
The kiss wasn't sweet—it was possessive. Desperate. Her lips slick with sweat and want, her hands dragging into his hair.
She kissed his cheek, then his jaw, trailing heat. "I need more Nicky," she whispered, voice silken. "You're still hard." She touched his hardness with her fingertip.
