Eh, what kind of fun would that be?
Nico leads me into his massive kitchen, and I sit on one of the stools surrounding his granite island. I trace a finger over the shiny stone where the dim, overhead light reflects off of the flecks of gold in the pattern. “New pots?” I point a finger to the set of copper pots hanging from the center of the ceiling.
“Yeah.” He shrugs and puts a kettle on the Wolf cooktop, flicking the bright red knob on high to heat the milk since that’s the only way I’d ever drink hot chocolate and Nico knows that all too well. He snickers and collapses onto the stool next to me. “Remember the first time I made you hot chocolate?”
A giggle escapes my lips. “I was just thinking about that. I still feel kinda bad about it.”
“I just wanted to see you smile. I felt really bad when you tripped over my bike and scraped up your knees, but you didn’t even appreciate the gesture. You just spit it out and cried. It was pretty brutal. I didn’t know anyone could fuck up hot chocolate that badly.” He shakes his head.
“Well, I was only eight, so you know, you could cut me some slack. Especially all these years later.”
“It was then that I realized how high maintenance women could be.”
“Really? It took you that long, huh?”
“I never paid much attention before that. Never really had to, you know? There was only one girl I wanted to please.”
I swallow hard, the growing lump in my throat making it increasingly difficult to breathe. “She was lucky to have had all of your attention back then.”
“I was lucky to have had hers.” Nico drums his fingertips on the countertop and looks at the stove where the kettle whistles a happier tune than the one inside my heart. All of this reminiscing can only lead to one thing, the same thing that drove me away from here, and I don’t know if I can relive that. I was doing fine in Florida where the bright sunshine artificially gave my life the light it’s been missing for so long. I’d been trying to heal instead of lamenting. Now, I’m back in the center of the chaos I’d long forgotten, and the stitches I’d carefully sewn, attempting to stem the heartache, are carelessly being torn out. It hurts, and hot chocolate won’t make it better.
“But you didn’t want it, Nico.” I’m shocked that my voice isn’t quivering like my knees are right now. Somehow, by the grace of God, it’s calm, strong, and assured. I show no signs of crumbling. Yet.
“I was stupid. It was stupid.” He turns away from me and pours the hot liquid into a pink mug. My pink mug, the one he’d bought for me when he got this house. It has my name on it. I wonder what his overnight guests think of that when they go to grab a mug for morning-after coffee. I nibble at a stray cuticle. Actually, on second thought, I’ll bet there’s no morning-after anything, knowing Nico. His shoulders sag with a deep sigh as he walks toward me with the steaming hot cocoa.
“I don’t understand,” I say, gripping the handle when I really want to claw his eyes out for that last statement.
He scrubs a hand down the front of his face, his expression pained and pinched. “Nothing about this works, Shaye. It never did, and I knew that. But I still managed to hurt you because I couldn’t walk away. I still can’t.”
I leap off the stool. A sob builds deep in my chest, and it’s only a matter of time before it explodes out of my mouth. But no fucking way will I let that happen before I get these next words out, the ones I’ve been harboring for so long. “Then why am I even here? You should have just told me all of this the night in the hospital and been done with it! Instead, you’ve been trying to convince me that this can happen, that you want it to happen!” I spin around, searching for something, anything to hurl at him. I can’t even find a goddamn pen to stab him with. Sadistic asshole. “Do you enjoy treating me like a damn yo-yo? Is this how you entertain yourself? Or is it really just about the chase for you? You get what you want from me and then you put it out with the trash when you’re done?”
He stands up and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Stop,” he murmurs, pulling me close. “You don’t understand. I do want this to happen, Shaye. That’s why I called you. I made such a mistake letting you go. But the pressure…it’s so fucking stifling. I never know who’s staking me out. I don’t know who’s got my back anymore. I don’t know if everything I’ve worked so hard to build is going to crash and burn because one of my associates fucks me over. I’ve seen all of this happen to my dad. I know what he’s battling now, and I know it’s only a matter of time before it happens to me.”
“But…”
“But I don’t care. Right now, at this second, I don’t give a flying fuck about anything except you.” He runs a hand down my spine, pressing the small of my back into him. “And for all of that, I’m a selfish bastard, Shaye. I need to care about all of this shit because you mean everything to me. I can’t put you in danger, and I can’t say you’ll ever be completely safe under my care. I’d do anything to make it so, but I can’t.”
Tears pool in my eyes. “I’ll never be safe, Nico. You know that. As long as I’m Tony Oriani’s daughter—"
He nods, swiping away the lone tear that trickles from my eye. “But this is different. I’d be responsible for you, and if anything ever fucking happened to you, to our family, our kids…it would kill me, Shaye. Kill me.”
Our kids. Our kids? I’m so freaking confused right now. I feel like this is one long therapy session and the couple of classes I’ve taken haven’t exactly prepared me for this kind of emotional outpouring, especially from the guy I’ve cursed for the better part of the past four months. “Nico,” I whisper. “This is our life. It’s all we have ever known. It has its good parts and bad parts, but we both know that nobody is ever truly safe in it, regardless of what side of the family tree they stand on. Why should we fight something we both want because of the fear of what might happen?” I reach upward, my hand snaking around the back of his neck, gently grazing the skin with my fingernails.
He lets out a little moan. “That’s not fair. You know I can’t think when you do that.”
“I think it’s time to stop thinking.” I stroke his neck harder, and he pulls me against his chest, a low growl tumbling from his lips. “Just feel, Nico. I want you to feel me, and I need to feel you. Please. Tell me everything I need to know about what we are doing by not saying another word, okay?”
He nods, dipping his head so that our foreheads touch. When his lips crash against mine, I swear I can feel the panties evaporate from my body. His mouth is just that freaking powerful.
His tongue coils with mine…hot, hungry, and intense. It knows exactly what it wants and sets on a path to take it. And I am oh so ready to give it all and then some.
He runs his hands up and down my back, his fingertips pressing into my spine, claiming every inch of my body as his own. My head falls back as I fall into him, beckoning his lips to jump on a scorching hot path to the areas begging for some attention. I’m limp in his arms and all conscious thoughts are eradicated from my body with each nip and tug of his teeth on my earlobe.
A quivering breath escapes my mouth, and the tingling sensation that I’d thought had only been reserved for certain areas now seems to have enveloped my entire being. I feel him everywhere, his hot breath fluttering against my bare skin, the pure, carnal energy coursing through my veins, the warmth generated by his very determined lips consuming my insides.
He stands me upright from my previous position hanging over his arms and grips the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head. His eyes are dark with lust and crazed with a greedy need I am all too excited to satisfy. My breasts heave in the hot pink lace that barely covers them. I grip the edges of the island behind me until my fingertips lose blood flow. Small sacrifice, though. Every second Nico spends unbuttoning my jeans and peeling them from my wobbly legs is one less moment I have to wait for him to plunge inside of me and blast me back to that place where I’m the center of his world and nothing exists but us. I want to go back there, never to retur
n again.
I can’t steady my breathing. It’s impossible, so I stop trying. Nico’s lips are searing a path down my inner thighs as he slides off my jeans. My stomach clenches with every tiny kiss he leaves in his wake. His hands grasp the back of my legs, spreading them, giving him full access to the one place that is reserved only for him. It’s always been his. Always and forever.
He pushes the matching hot pink lace panties aside, and dips two fingers inside of me. They slide in so easily, and my hips rock against them, creating the friction I so badly crave. Except it’s not his fingers I yearn for. What seems like seconds later, they’re gone and my body immediately clenches, the loss of his touch damn-near making me scream out in frustration. “Nico…”
I let out a loud gasp as his tongue delves into my wet heat, his fingers gripping my ass tight. “Oh my God,” I moan, limp once again against the counter. He pushes me into his mouth, his tongue plundering my core, stripping me of any possible hesitation I might have carried in here tonight. Nothing about this could possibly be wrong when it feels so incredibly amazing, right? Fuck, no. That would be much too cruel.
He drinks in my desire, my tiny mewls spurring him on. I grip his shoulders, digging my nails into the fabric of his shirt…the shirt I am desperate to tear off his body. When the screams come, they reverberate through my body along with the intense euphoria I’ve only read about in books. But holy crap…I could never write about this. Putting into words the intense feeling of sheer elation coupled with the most incredible and explosive sensations that make me believe God is, indeed, a woman…it would be impossible.
Of course, there is one little factor that makes the waves of pleasure rolling through me that much more consuming…the undying love I have for the man who is currently between my legs, catapulting me into the heavens with his deliciously devious tongue.
Nico
She pushes her hips upward, my mouth still feasting on her sweet pussy because I can’t get enough of her.
I always knew I’d be a fucking goner after just one taste.
I was right, and everything about this is so goddamn wrong.
Her body quivers in my grip, her skin smooth as silk under the pads of my fingertips. I dig my fingers into her soft flesh, moaning as I lap up every last drop of her juices. She lowers her body to the floor until we are face to face. Her cheeks are stained a deep pink and her eyes…Jesus, the Hope Diamond doesn’t have enough facets to sparkle as brightly. I swallow hard as her legs straddle me. Those luscious tits pressed against me, rubbing just enough, beckoning my fingers to tweak the nipples. Shaye lets out a tiny gasp and then collapses against me, laying her head on my shoulder.
My cock is damn near ready to explode, my stiff length stretching tight against my pants. But this fucking fabric is preventing me from getting close to the place I long to be. I drag my fingers down her torso and flick her clit before slipping two fingers deep into her pussy again. She shudders against me, thrusting her hips against my now-soaked fingers. I reach around her head and gently fist her hair, forcing it backward and giving my lips access to the slope of her neck. My tongue is out of my mouth before I can give the order to attack. It wastes no time sampling every inch of her supple skin and I plunge a third finger into her core. Her moans get louder every time I force my fingers deeper, her nails digging into my shirt.
My shirt. Dammit. I need to get it the hell off, along with everything else that’s keeping me from diving into her slick and sinful entrance.
I’ve never met a woman who can undo me with so little effort, and I’ve had the some of the hottest pussy all over the world. Nobody has ever done to me what Shaye does every time she so much as looks at me.
I allow my eyes to flutter closed, focusing on her body writhing against my fingers. I keep one hand on the small of her back as she fucks my fingers, pressing her closer to me. If I only have a few hours with her, I’m going to make every second count.
Fuck the hot chocolate.
When she falls against my chest, breathless and heaving for the second time, I nuzzle her ear with my lips. “I’d like to go three for three, that is, if you’re up for it.”
That gets her attention. She sits straight up and flips her tangled waves over one shoulder. The looks she gives me…fuck. I fully expected to have an Incredible Hulk moment with my cock busting out of my pants in exchange for that look. Must be some pretty strong fibers holding these jeans together.
A seductive smile lifts the corners of her swollen lips and she rises from her position, hands held out, ready to bring me to her level, but I’m already there. The palms of my hands run the length of her torso, pausing only to cup her perfect breasts. I take each taut nipple into my mouth, flicking and suckling them until I hear that all-too-familiar squeal escape her mouth. She reaches around my head and pulls the back of my hair to detach my mouth from her tits.
“Not cool,” I murmur. “I was enjoying that.”
“Me, too,” she breathes, sidling even closer to me. “But maybe we can do something else instead?”
Oh, hell yes. Beg me. Saves me the trouble of falling to my knees and doing the very same thing since another second without her body plastered against mine is the worst form of torture to endure. I fucking love how into this she is…how she trusts me, how she wants to experience this with me. Only with me. My breath hitches when I see the expression of nervousness flicker in her eyes. Christ, I never want to see it again. I have a lot to prove to this girl, and it starts now. I need to make her understand that she’s everything to me and more than I could have ever imagined or dreamed about.
I loop my arms around her waist and hoist her into my arms. She locks her legs around my waist, rubbing herself against my hard cock, the cock which is still pulsating against my pants “Not so innocent anymore, huh?” I groan, the friction deepening the ache in my balls.
She cups the sides of my face and presses her lips against mine, forcing them open with her hungry tongue and plundering my mouth with a voracity I’d have never expected from her. I guess I got my answer…
I can’t get her into my bedroom fast enough, so I opt for the guest room. It’s right off of the kitchen, and it has a very large, very plush, and much more accessible, king-sized bed, just waiting to be broken in. I kick open the door and ignore the light switch even though my feet have already crashed into various pieces of furniture scattered around the perimeter of the room. I don’t care. I can take the pain. Hell, I’d suffer a lot more for the chance to be balls deep inside of Shaye again.
I lay her on the bed, our lips still firmly connected. My hands cannot get enough of her soft skin. Her toned muscles twitch and tighten under my touch, and her arms tighten around my waist. “You have on too many clothes. I want to feel you inside of me, but I can’t let you go,” she whispers against my mouth, her lips nipping at mine.
“I don’t want to let go, either.” I run a hand through her hair. Even in its tousled state, it’s so silky, sliding easily between my fingers. I bring one of my hands to the buttons on my shirt and unfasten them as fast as humanly possible, sliding out one arm and then another while keeping her mouth thoroughly occupied.
Her fingers move from my waist to the front of my pants, and she fumbles a little with the belt buckle, finally pulling open the belt and sliding it off. It falls to the floor, the buckle cracking on the hardwood. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs. Uncertainty now commands her fingers as she slowly unbuttons my pants. They shake a bit against my abdomen. She’s hot, bothered, and scared. She may want this, but her last experience wasn’t exactly the best one to start out with, and if that’s creeping back into her mind, I need to eradicate it once and for all. She needs a new memory, a fucking heart-stopping, toe-curling one that will forever brand her.
I pull away slightly to slide my pants and boxers to the floor. Stepping out of them, I watch her watching me as she shifts on the mattress. She is perfection. The curves of her tan body are splayed over the bright white comforter, her le
gs bent and laying to the side, full breasts just begging me for a quick nip. A finger flies up to her lips, and she nibbles at her already-chipped nail polish, a tentative smile lifting her lips. “Is there usually such a long break between foreplay and the actual…you know…thing?”
I smirk and kneel over her on the bed. “It depends. I could stare at you forever and never lay a finger on you.” I smooth back a strand of her hair. “You’re gorgeous, Shaye.”
“Nico….” She runs her hands down my side, pausing at my hip and then sliding back up toward my chest.
“Will you touch all of me, Shaye?” My voice is low, raspy, and desperate. I’m hard as an iron rod right now and ready to dive inside of her slick pussy, but I need her to feel completely comfortable so I’m taking it slow. I want to break down any barriers between us. I want all she has to give. I fucked it all up last time, and I won’t make that mistake again.
She nods and takes my dick in her hand, softly stroking the sides. Her hands are so warm. A surge of adrenaline courses through me, and my stomach tightens as I thrust into her hand. Her grip gets tighter and she cups my balls with her free hand. She’s getting bolder. I fucking love it. “Is this good?” she whispers.
I nod and groan my agreement. “Lick the palm of your hand,” I choke out, my eyes squeeze shut involuntarily. I go through a mental loop of the more grotesque images burned into my memory so I don’t come on her tits before I can even roll on a condom. My plan and the urge are quelled, at least momentarily. Then her wet palm grasps me again, working her way up and down the shaft. “Squeeze me tighter,” I grunt, clutching the bedsheets in my fists. I’m still on my knees, still straddling Shaye’s body, and still ready as ever to explode. “Fuck, Shaye, that feels so good.”
She smiles, biting her lower lip. Her hand rubs harder, her finger sliding over the tip. I let out a gasp when her finger plays with my slit. “You’re killing me.”
Screwing the Mob Page 11
