by RC Boldt
I shed my clothes at what feels like light speed, smirking at her little snicker because I’m damn impatient to feel her skin against mine. I stalk closer, but when she scoots back to lie propped on the pillows, I hesitate. Because I know me being on top in any way is a trigger for her.
She holds out a hand, offering a shy smile. “What are you waiting for?”
I know the silent question shows on my face because she sits up and reaches for my wrist, giving it a tug. Her eyes never veer from mine. “Please? Trust me. I’ll be okay…with you.”
Emotion clogs my damn throat. She has no way of knowing how powerful her words are. How conflicted they make me. Here she is, asking me to trust her. Trusting me to help her get past this hurdle.
I love you, Olivia Wright, I declare silently. I’ll love you forever, even when you hate me once this all ends.
With slow, careful movements so I don’t spook her, I trail my fingertips along her bare shoulders before flicking open her bra clasp. She removes it and tosses it aside, leaning back to rest against the pillows again. Skimming my hands over her breasts, she arches into my touch, nipples pebbling, and I rake my thumbs over the tips.
When she says my name on a breath, it sends a staggering bolt of lust shooting through me. Tucking my fingers beneath her panties, I tear them down her legs and cast them off.
She watches with heavy-lidded eyes when I climb onto the bed and brace myself above her. When our bare flesh meets, I suck in a sharp breath, and her eyes turn a shade darker.
Her hands trace a path down my back and curve over my ass. I want to memorize her touch and the way she watches me so intently. Because this’ll be over in a few days.
Her brow creases, and she reaches up to skim her index finger along my lips. “Is this okay?” She whispers this like I’m upset with her.
Closing my eyes, I draw in a breath before my gaze locks with hers. “Just wanna remember you like this.”
She searches my features curiously. “Like what?”
“Like the breathtakin’ goddess you are.” I drop a light kiss to each corner of her mouth, then trail kisses along her cheek and the column of her neck. I glance between us, at our positions. “Sure you’re okay with this?”
She frames my face in her hands and guides my mouth to hers. “More than okay.”
I kiss her with everything I have to give, and when she lets out a little whimper in the back of her throat, it makes my dick throb, aching to get inside her.
Tearing my lips from hers, I speak against her mouth. “You gotta tell me if I’m doin’ somethin’ you don’t—”
When she widens her thighs and wraps her legs around my waist, the singeing heat of her pussy has me clenching my jaw so damn hard it begins to ache.
“I need you to treat me like…I’m normal.”
The thread of hesitance in her voice guts me, and I can’t help my reaction. I glare down at her. “Don’t wanna hear you talkin’ like that. You’re so much better than normal. You’re fuckin’ exquisite, you hear me?”
Eyes holding a slight sheen, she blinks against it as her features soften with affection. I kiss her before she can come up with any other protests. Mouths fused tight, our tongues meet, and I groan at her taste. She clutches me closer, and I let her hands travel over me, getting acquainted with the feel of a man on top of her.
A man who would sooner cut off his own arm than force himself on her.
A man who will cherish her—her body, her touch—like it’s the gift it is.
A man who’d give anything to have this end differently. But it won’t—it can’t—so I put everything into my touch.
I need her to remember this so that maybe, one day, she’ll realize I loved her the best way I could.
51
Olivia
Nico ravages my mouth in a kiss blistering with heat, spurring the needy ache between my thighs to ratchet even higher. His fingers dive into my hair, turning my head exactly how he wants, working his lips over mine in a feverish claim.
The hot, wet glide of his tongue and the weight of his rigid length against my stomach have me clutching at his muscled shoulders. A driving need bombards me to get even closer to him.
He catches my lower lip between his teeth and suckles, his tongue rasping over my flesh and sending a shudder rolling through me. His eyes blaze with intent, but traces of uncertainty lie in the depths. I assume it’s because of this…what we’re doing. That I’m trusting him to be on top of me in this dominant position.
I take this moment to gaze up at him. At…my Nico. Straight nose, angular jawline, and that full lower lip all gracing his dark, tanned skin are enough to garner him appraising looks from others. But now that I’ve gotten to know him better, I’m able to see beneath it and recognize his other qualities. It’s why I want this moment with him. Sunday will rear its ugly head far too soon and send our worlds spinning out of orbit.
Brown eyes bore into mine with an intensity that has my breath stuttering. “If I do somethin’ you don’t like, you tell me.”
I swallow, attempting to draw moisture into my bone-dry mouth. “Okay.”
Both desperation and determination line his features as he levers himself up, the pads of his fingers skimming along my forehead, cheek, and over my lips. It’s as though he’s embedding the memory of every curve he encounters. A shiver of arousal assails me, and I sweep my hands along the sinewy muscles of his back. His body is tense while he restrains himself, and I don’t want that.
My thought morphs into whispered words. “I want all of you.” They hang between us, but I can’t regret them because it’s the truth.
I want him. I want Nico Alcanzar. The criminal. The murderer. The lover. The protector. The man who never asked for my heart.
The man who already owns it.
He closes his eyes, a look of reproach crossing his features before they flare open. As he eases himself lower on the bed, a whisper of a smile teases his lips before his head descends, and he dusts a soft kiss to the center of my chest. His mouth hovers above my skin as his hot breath washes over me with each syllable, his guttural voice rife with affection. “I’m all yours.”
Before I can catch my breath at the emotion brimming in his words, he moves down my body, leaving a trail of slow, soft kisses until he’s between my thighs. I automatically tense until I remind myself that it’s okay. That there’s nothing to be worried about.
Of course, he senses it, soothing my outer thighs with sweeping strokes of his palms. Yearning is etched on his features while his voice is a low murmur. “Just wanna show you”—his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard—“how it can be.”
Inhaling a deep breath, I release it slowly and nod. As soon as I do, his eyes soften.
“Anytime you want me to stop, you say so.”
“Okay.”
Gliding his large palms beneath my ass to lift me, he ducks his head and drags his tongue along my slit. I jerk at the initial touch but then relax as he laps at my folds with languid strokes.
“You taste so damn sweet.” His breath kisses my skin, and when I glance down, he’s watching me, eyes flaring with searing hunger. “You gonna let me make you feel good?”
Never breaking eye contact, he fastens his lips around my clit and sucks it into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue before releasing it. “’Cause I need you to feel good.” He licks a path along my entrance. “So, all you’re thinkin’ ’bout is comin’ all over my face.”
I fist the bedsheets, arching into his touch.
“Gotta tell me what you want. What you need.” He gives another long, slow lick, barely dipping the tip of his tongue inside me. “You want my tongue deep inside this sweet pussy? Or you want me to suck on this pretty little clit?”
How does he sound so unaffected while I’m a tense, aching mass of want?
“All of it?” My response comes out as a question because I don’t know. I’m not sure. With any other man, I’d be mortified that I, a grown woman, don’t
know what I want or what I prefer. But I’m not, and Nico’s answering words confirm why.
“S’okay, baby. I got you.” He presses a kiss to the crease of my inner thigh. “We got this.”
And I know it’s not simply posturing, but that he’s in this with me—that we’re in this together.
He darts his tongue inside me slowly before retreating and pushing in again, and my breath hitches. Pleasure courses through me and my inner muscles clench, silently demanding more. A surge of wetness floods me, and I can tell the instant he detects it.
When he groans, “So damn perfect,” against my sensitive flesh, it feels as though he’s dismantling the remainder of my defenses.
He continues tonguing me, in and out, while circling his thumb over my sensitive clit with the precise amount of pressure. My thighs tense until I force them to relax, and my body arches instinctively while my eyes fall closed. The craving for his touch, the progressively amplifying ache that has me chasing his tongue and pressing myself shamelessly against it, takes hold of me.
My breaths come out in short, rapid bursts, and my muscles tighten as I strain, desperate to reach out and grasp the pleasure dangling in front of me. A deep growl reverberates against my flesh when I rock my hips frantically, silently begging for more of Nico’s tongue.
I open my eyes to find his hazy with lust. My breath rushes past my lips, and my tongue darts out to wet them.
With his eyes locked on me, my hips cant as a ragged moan spills from me. “Nico,” I whimper. “Don’t stop.”
Fitting his mouth securely over me, he explores me with hungry licks of his tongue and delves in as deep as he can. His thorough, intimate kisses tip me over the edge and my climax rips through me. I rock myself against him, riding out the waves of pleasure.
I’m unsure how much time passes, but Nico eventually eases back and places a kiss along my sensitive flesh. His hot exhale sends a rush of shivers skating along my spine. He rises up and settles on his side next to me. I turn my heavy-lidded gaze on him and notice that my wetness clings to his mouth.
“I got you messy.” A rush of heat singes my cheeks. “Sorry.”
His smirk can only be described as a man who is wholly satisfied. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, and he uses his thumb for the area around his mouth, licking it once he’s finished. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry ’bout.” Then his features sober, gaze searching mine. “You good?”
I know I’m probably smiling like a fool, but I can’t stifle it. “Yeah. Really good.”
“Hm.” His eyes narrow. “On a scale of Really good, I could go for that again or Really good, Nico’s a sex god, how’d you rate it?”
A startled laugh spills out of me, and the way his face brightens has my heart galloping. My eyes drift over his lean body to where he’s impossibly hard. Just looking at him has flames of desire rising higher within me. I recall the way the flared head of his cock felt when it first breached my entrance. When I’d slid down his hard length and taken him deep inside me.
“Ain’t expectin’ anythin’, if that’s what you’re thinkin’.” His deep, raspy voice draws my attention back to his face.
A spark of inhibition strikes me, and I turn onto my side to face him. I notice his eyes flicking to my breasts which shift with the movement before meeting my gaze.
“What if you were expecting something?” I pose quietly. “What would you want from me?”
His expression flickers, morphing into something unreadable, while his words hold heated want and underlying affection. “Whatever you wanna give.”
A stream of anticipation and need jettisons through me, and I lean in closer to kiss him. Although my intent was for it to be brief and sweet, the feel of his lips beneath mine and the taste of me lingering on them have lust licking through my veins as if I hadn’t just come all over his tongue mere moments ago.
When I break the kiss, we’re both breathing hard. His palm skims my side as if he can’t bear to break contact in any way. With our foreheads touching, he murmurs huskily, “Havin’ you let me do that was beautiful and so fuckin’ hot.” A groan rumbles up from deep in his chest. “Goddamn, baby. Just thinkin’ about how you rode my face gets me…” The hand that’s been caressing me disappears, and I watch as he grips his heavy cock in hand, fingers flexing.
Gently, I press against the hard wall of his chest, guiding him to his back, and straddle him. His heavy-lidded gaze meets mine. “Yeah, you like bein’ in charge, don’t you?”
He surveys my body with smoldering eyes. His voice drops even lower, the raspiness skittering along my skin. “Won’t be able to last long. Havin’ you ride my face…” His grip on my hips flexes, and his jaw works. “Almost had me losin’ my mind.”
I lean back on his upper thighs and reach between us to take him in my palm. He’s thick, heavy, and when I smooth the bead of fluid at the tip with my thumb, he lets out a low, tortured groan. I give his hot length a slow stroke before tugging the crown, and his nostrils flare.
Lust turns my voice husky. “We need a condom.”
He sits up, palm moving to my nape to guide me, and our mouths collide in a greedy kiss. His tongue slips inside to tangle with mine, and I barely register his body shifting and the noise of a drawer being opened. When he breaks the kiss and rips open a condom, I lean back and watch as he rolls it down his length.
Lifting up on my knees, I grip him and run his flared head along my slit, gathering my wetness. The feel of him trembling at the touch sends my need for him skyrocketing.
As I take him inside me, inch by inch, his eyes are hooded while the muscles strain in his shoulders, veins standing out in his neck as our bodies meld together.
Once I sink down all the way, a shudder rolls through me at how deep he is, at how good he feels inside me. Allowing me to adjust to him, he trails his fingertips up my body and cups the weight of my breasts in his hands. I arch into his touch, rocking my hips, and our combined moans sound within the silence of the room.
Nico’s eyes skim from my breasts down to where we’re joined before lifting to meet my gaze. My throat constricts with emotion at the expression on his face. It’s as though this—us—is something he’ll cherish. It spurs me to reach for his hands and guide them away from my breasts. Instead, I link our fingers together and lean over him, pressing our hands against the mattress.
Fusing our mouths together, I’m a marauder with my kiss, fully laying claim to him. His muscles go rigid beneath me, and he matches me with frantic urgency. My hips rock against him in needy, jerky movements. Each time I move, the root of his cock rubs my clit, causing more wetness to seep from me, coating him with my arousal.
Overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotion and need hurtling through me, I bury my face in his neck. “Nico.” My voice is thin, reedy, and God, if he feels this good—this perfect, like we’re two pieces that flawlessly interconnect—how am I going to survive without this? Without him?
His voice is ragged, as though it’s being forced from a throat coated with the roughest sandpaper. “Olivia.” The way he says my name at this moment is unlike any other. Infused with a myriad of emotions—hunger, need, affection, and a trace of grief—I realize that this is more. It isn’t simply a type of intimacy I’ve never experienced. This is the kind of sex that leaves a person’s heart in ruins.
Even though he hasn’t expressed his feelings for me, I know he must feel something. Maybe it’s not love, but ultimately, it doesn’t matter. Deep down, we both know this can’t last. We’re on two completely separate paths.
I suppose that’s the funny thing about falling in love. Your heart is in charge of choosing its recipient, regardless of what your mind has to say on the matter.
My eyes burn with unshed tears, and I pinch them closed. Letting my lips have their way, I trail kisses along the cords of his neck and then back up to capture his earlobe between my teeth. When I tug gently before laving it with my tongue, a shiver wracks his body.
“Baby… N
ot gonna last—” He breaks off when I rock against him and tears his hands from mine. “Gotta touch you.”
One hand moves to fist my hair tight, guiding me to lift my head, and when my eyes lock with his, my heart gives a little flip. The need in his gaze is so utterly raw that it has every molecule in my body straining for release. His other hand molds the curve of my ass, fingers tightening around it in a near desperate hold, urging me to rock against him.
But I know what I need to do. What I want to do.
Placing my palms against his firm pectorals, I carefully ease off him. His brow creases as he watches me, but he remains silent. I lie back on the bed and reach for him. His gaze is searching, as if unsure and also wary, afraid he’ll spook me.
He shifts on his side, lifting to brace himself on his arm and reaches out to trail his fingertips along my cheek. The action is so tender, my chest tightens.
“Come here,” I whisper.
Nico dips his head and dusts a light kiss to my lips. “Baby, you don’t have to do this.”
“I want to.” I reach up and cup the side of his face in my hand. His eyes fall closed briefly before flashing open, the golden brown blooming with emotion. Turning his face against my palm, he kisses the center before cautiously settling himself between my legs.
Braced above me on his forearms, he lowers his head and captures my mouth in a kiss that not only serves as a soothing balm to my heart but also incites a needy hunger for more. For more of his touch, his kiss.
He holds my gaze, and I know he’s silently telling me that I can stop him at any time—that he will stop if I so much as tense a single muscle—and notches the thick head of his cock at my entrance. He slowly eases inside me. My lips part on a silent gasp as his thickness stretches me wider, sinking farther until he’s buried as deep as he can.
Once he finally moves, he does so while carefully gauging my reaction, and the tenderness in his features steals the breath from my lungs. With the hard wall of his chest flush against my nipples, the simple contact has me arching and rocking my hips. Wrapping my legs around his hips causes him to sink a fraction deeper. He captures my lips in a quick, wet kiss.
