Her mind unravelled like a spool of thread dropped to the floor. “You’ll… do…”
“If that—” he flicked a glance at the toy “—is what you want, I’ll do it for you. Would you like to come?”
“Yes,” she breathed, the word spilling out before she could stop it. “Yes, I want to come.”
“Next time,” he said, “just ask.” He pulled down her bikini bottoms without hesitation, his hands rough. When the fabric fell to her feet, he grabbed her arse and pulled her tight against his body. Their kiss was hot and hard enough to make her shake. His tongue thrust against hers in a rhythm that should’ve felt crude, too suggestive, too dominant. She melted against him like he was licking into her pussy instead of her mouth.
A second later, he spun her around to face the bed. His hands, surprisingly gentle, pushed her until she bent forwards, her upper body resting against the mattress, her arse thrust out lewdly. He picked up the toy, and then she couldn’t see him anymore—but she could feel him right behind her, and one of his hands roamed over the curve of her belly.
“Do you have anything to say to me?” he asked softly. For a moment, she frowned, confusion breaking through the haze of lust.
But then she realised he was checking up on her. Making sure this wasn’t too far. Asking for the safe word that wasn’t supposed to be sexual, and yet, here they were.
Aria shook her head, relishing the feel of the cool sheets against her cheek. “No.”
“Good.” She heard the creak of the floor as he moved, sinking down behind her. She could feel his breath against her thighs. Then his big hands palmed her arse and spread her wide, and she felt his breath against her slick folds instead. He let out a low moan. “You are so fucking wet.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
She hesitated. “Why?”
“Tell me why.”
Exquisite tension coiled tight in her core. “Because… because I want you.”
“Thank fucking God for that,” he muttered. A second later she felt the cool, blunt tip of the vibrator sliding through her folds, growing slippery as it eased over her wetness. When it nudged her swollen, desperate clit, she gave a ragged cry, and Nik’s head fell forward to rest against her thigh. “Ah, fuck, Ri. Do you need it? Right now?”
“Now,” she agreed, the word strangled.
His fingers spread her intimate folds wider. She could almost feel his intensity, could imagine that dark, focused stare. And for a moment she didn’t want the toy at all; she wanted his hot mouth, his hands, and his thick cock. God, she wanted that cock.
She didn’t get it. Instead, he murmured, “How long have you been like this?”
“Long enough,” she gritted out. And then felt a delicious stretch as the vibrator eased into her pussy, painfully slow but beautifully thick. “Oh, God, more—”
“Can you take it?”
With a frustrated growl, Aria thrust her hips back. Sensation arced through her as she took the toy deeper, her need beginning to be sated.
“Fuck,” he hissed, as if it was his dick inside her. As if he was experiencing this pleasure. “Oh my God. The way you look right now—”
“Shut up and fuck me,” she ordered, but it sounded more like she was begging. She was begging.
And he knew it, too.
“Whatever you need, sweetheart.” His voice was a low murmur, ripe with wry amusement… and heavy promise. He thrust the toy deeper, until her cries became ragged and her hips rocked back in a desperate rhythm. And then she felt the slight pressure of the rabbit’s ears against her tender clit. She tensed in anticipation for a second before he switched on the vibrations and sent pleasure shuddering through her.
“Oh, fuck,” she gasped, hearing how high and needy she sounded, lacking the ability to care. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She could cry, with this thick length buried deep inside her and that sweet vibration massaging her swollen clit. “Nik, I’m gonna come, make me come, I need to—" Her words turned into a keening moan.
Without warning, she felt the hot, wet stripe of his tongue between her cheeks, just missing that sensitive hole. Always, he was a fucking tease. What she wanted was his mouth, hot and unrestrained on that forbidden place. “More,” she gasped out, straining towards him.
“More?” He sounded, for the first time, slightly hesitant. “You want—fuck, you want more.” His words broke off a second before his tongue found her tight hole, flicking sweet and wet over her puckered flesh, sending daggers of desire through her veins. The pleasure was so intense it seemed almost painful.
He licked her again and again, still driving the dildo inside her, nudging that vibrator against her clit—until infinity stretched and paused all at once, until spiralling bliss became screaming release. Too fast, way faster than usual, and way too fucking intense. But that wasn’t the part that bothered her.
No. What bothered Aria was the sound of his name on her lips. She cried out to him as if it meant something. As if he wasn’t the kind of man who’d fuck her just to fuck her. And when she was done, he kissed her hip and ran a soothing hand over her spine as if he actually gave a shit.
Knowing him, he did give a shit—she couldn’t doubt that no matter who Nik slept with, he treated them gently.
But she wasn’t the kind of woman who could take orgasms and gentleness and emerge without compromising her ridiculous heart. In fact, she’d learned the hard way that orgasms and gentleness were enough to sneak past her defences in a way that endangered lives.
Maybe that was why panic clawed at her throat. Maybe that was why she blurted out, her voice overly loud in the silence, “Banana split.”
He didn’t ask questions. He left.
Chapter Eleven
Nik was absolutely shitting himself, and he had been for… oh, the past eight hours or so. Which was about how long it had been since he’d lost his goddamn mind, pushed Aria way too far, and enjoyed it way too much.
When they’d gotten ready to go out that night, she hadn’t said a word about earlier. They’d both carefully avoided staring at the foot of the bed, but the straightened sheets weren’t enough to erase the memory of her bent over and spread open to his gaze. His touch. His tongue.
Fuck. Nik’s fingers tightened around the cold glass in his hand. He settled back into his seat at the bar and glowered into the darkness, watching Aria and Laurie dance. He felt like a stalker. The feeling didn’t improve when Aria flicked a glance at him through sooty lashes, running her tongue over her lip ring. She was nervous, or thinking, or nervous and thinking. Probably about him and the fact that he was…
What? Too attached? That he wanted her too much? Could she feel it in his hands, earlier, could she hear it in his voice? Or were his words too obvious? Or was it something else entirely? He had no fucking clue. Typically, what Nik didn’t know couldn’t bother him. Right now, it was eating him alive.
With a scowl, he threw back the last of his whiskey and got up to take a piss. Kieran was hovering protectively around the girls as usual. Nik wasn’t worried about leaving Aria here alone with the Fearsome Defender of Women, Children and Kittens around.
Gritting his teeth against the jarring thud of some blaring dance track, Nik made his way down to the toilets. “I should just ask her,” he muttered. “That’s what I’ll do.” He didn’t know why he hadn’t already. Usually, when he was unsure or confused, he spoke up. When he had a question, he demanded an answer. But for some reason, when he’d come upstairs to get ready and laid eyes on Aria again… the words had just dried up in his throat.
And then she’d flashed him a smile and asked if he thought her hoop earrings were too big, or too small, or some shit like that. And he’d thought, If this is what you want to do, I’ll do it.
Just a few hours later, he was changing his mind. It wasn’t as if he could forget what had happened; that would require a hard blow to the head with a big fucking brick. Aria was the person who made him feel calm, who let him breathe and laugh and j
oke despite the looming dread that was the rest of his life. Being on edge with her, leaving things unsaid… it felt like leaving an open wound unstitched and letting it bleed out all over the place. He wanted to know what she was thinking. He needed to.
Nik was starting to understand all that crap his sister liked to say about sex being a ‘spiritual experience’, because right now it felt as if his soul was tied to Aria’s, and something from her end was tugging hard.
“What’d the pisser ever do to you, old friend?”
Nik didn’t even look up at the sound of Varo’s voice. He just kept glaring at the urinal in front of him. “Fuck off. Unless you want to suck my dick.”
“Right now?” Varo’s laugh echoed off the washroom tiles. “I’ll pass. I don’t think Aria would be happy about that, anyway.”
“I don’t know if she’d give a fuck, to be honest.” He zipped up his jeans, turning towards the sinks and coming face to face with his friend. “Why are you loitering down here?”
“I was just about to leave, actually, when you came storming in like a thunderclap.” Varo arched one thick brow. “Girl trouble?”
“Something like that.” Nik was able to ignore his friend’s answering silence for… oh, maybe three seconds, before it started to grate. “Fine, yes. I’ve been thinking about—the future, I suppose.” The future he wanted Aria to be in, even though he had no idea what was going on in her head right now. His confusion had no effect on the ravenous thing in his chest that growled Mine every time it saw her. “I’m not sure what to do, now I can’t play.”
Varo shrugged. “So? Take your time, figure it out.”
“I want to know now. I want to be useful. I need to have a plan so I can…” So I can show Aria that I’m not just a privileged waste of space. He gritted his teeth and glared at his own reflection, refusing to say that out loud. “Women like men with jobs.”
Varo burst into laughter. “Seriously? What, you’re worried Aria will leave you because you don’t have a job? I think you’re just looking for reasons to worry.”
That was true, actually. And it probably seemed pretty weird to Varo, because he thought Aria was Nik’s girlfriend. He had no idea how tenuous the situation really was, and Nik couldn’t tell him.
Still, he tried. He met his best friend’s gaze and let the other man see his desperation, his hopeless adoration, how unbelievably out of his depth he was right now. “I’m panicking, okay? I need her more than I should, and I don’t know how to explain it to her. It’s fucking ridiculous—”
“Why is it ridiculous?” Varo asked, his brow furrowed.
“Because—“ Because I don’t understand how I can feel like this so quickly. “Because I don’t know how relationships work,” he finished. “I don’t know what the timeline usually is.”
Varo shrugged. “You know I asked Georgia to marry me the night we met.”
“I also know that she told you to piss off. And that you still aren’t married.”
“But she is mine,” Varo grinned, “and she hasn’t left me yet.” The humour in his voice softened for a moment. “Maybe the moral there is, tell her how you feel and she’ll tell you what she’s ready for. Just because you aren’t on the same page, doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the book together.”
Nik digested those words and waited for the doubting voice in his head to say something doom-and-gloom-y. Something like, We’re not even reading the same damned book. But the voice didn’t come. Maybe because the fire of his determination, smouldering for a while now, was finally burning bright. Its smoke was more than thick enough to suffocate his hesitation.
He was Nikolas Christou, for fuck’s sake. So what if he was falling for his fake girlfriend? So what if he didn’t even know how to describe his feelings? It was all a bit fucking intense, sure, but he could handle it.
She made him feel like he could handle anything.
“You’re plotting,” Varo said, eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you?”
“Something like that,” Nik allowed with a smile. “Let’s go upstairs, shall we?”
They went.
When they all arrived home, wasted and bleary eyed, Aria was the one who suggested they stay up and play a drinking game.
She felt Nik’s presence beside her, the way she had for the past couple of hours. He’d gone from avoiding her almost completely to being her shadow, radiating an intensity she could feel with every breath. But she didn’t dare look up, even as everyone else cheered at her suggestion. She didn’t want to see the question in his eyes. She didn’t want to let on that she was afraid to be alone with him.
Afraid because she might do something even more regrettable than the unspeakable horror they’d shared earlier. Calling it ‘the unspeakable horror,’ she’d decided, made it seem slightly less sexy. Even though the lust-soaked memory wouldn’t leave her alone. Even though a dull ache appeared between her legs every time she looked at him, as if her muscles recalled the pleasure he’d brought them and wanted to ask for more.
She had to call it ‘the unspeakable horror.’ If she called it something accurate, like ‘the best sex of my life’, the sky might fall.
They all moved into one of the great rooms, piled down with more booze, shitty pizzas, and questionable kebabs, and Aria wondered if she’d accidentally doomed the household to the most hellish joint-hangover of all time. But she hardened her heart—and her gut—as everyone sat in a circle and argued about which game to play.
Then she felt Nik’s hand in hers. She knew it was his. If his constant affection hadn’t taught her to recognise his touch, the feel of his hands spreading her open certainly fucking had. Aria looked back before she could stop herself. Meeting his eyes was like taking a hit of some new and exciting drug that would almost certainly kill you. His gaze was so tender, yet sensual, like hot chocolate and whiskey: comfort with a bite.
He gave her his usual rakish grin, but his touch was gentle, almost unsure. Probably because, she realised with a jolt, he didn’t know how she felt about earlier. He didn’t know that she’d stopped things because she wanted him too much, not the opposite. And if Aria knew anything about Nik, it was that he had no fucking idea how to read between the lines. So there was absolutely no chance he’d read her mind.
That thought, combined with slightly too much alcohol, made Aria climb into his lap instead of sitting on the floor. He wrapped his arms around her as if worried she might change her mind and scramble off again. “Are you okay?” he whispered in her ear.
“I am.” She kissed his cheek and fidgeted until she found a comfortable position. By the time she finished, his cock was hard against her backside. Oops. That really had not been her intention—but the rigid length turned her mind into a mess, reckless desire swelling between her thighs.
And Nik seemed to know it. He pressed his lips to her bare shoulder, his teeth grazing her skin. When he ran his hand over her belly, she was thrown back to the last time he’d done that—as he knelt behind her and drove her to orgasm with her own fucking Rampant Rabbit. Jesus, that was one hell of a power move. She wouldn’t even be able to use the thing without thinking of him, now. And it’d cost eighty fucking quid!
She wriggled around some more, rubbing her arse over his stiff dick, just to spite him. When he released a soft, choked groan, petty satisfaction made her smile.
“Never have I ever!” Georgia bellowed suddenly, cutting through the commotion. “That’s what we’ll play!”
Across the circle, Baxter scowled. “What are we, seventeen?”
“Shut up, miserable. I have spoken.” Georgia stood, which didn’t put her much higher than everyone who was sitting down. “Okay, I’ll start. Never have I ever had a threesome—wait for it,” she insisted over the circle’s tired groan. “Never have I ever had a threesome in public. Yeahhh, who’s drinking now, fuckers?”
“You, querida,” Varo said.
Georgia blinked. “Oh. Oh, yeah!” She tossed back a shot. So did an impressive number of the circ
le, including Nik. Honestly, she felt kind of left out.
But she redeemed herself over the next few questions. Except for the weird ones, like “Never have I ever swum with sharks.” She wasn’t surprised when Nik drank to that, either. Personally, Aria would rather live to a ripe old age with only a vibrator and a bottle of vodka to thrill her than run around inviting predators to take a bite, but she tried not to judge.
As the game went on, Nik’s hands roamed over her body, so slow and casual that no-one seemed to notice he was essentially groping her. He stroked lightly over her breast, then glided down her ribs. A second later, his fingers would breach the hem of her dress to skate over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. And then he’d be back at her chest, his fingers nudging her tightening nipples, his lips grazing the dip where her neck and shoulder met.
“Do you need something, agapi mou?” he asked her suddenly. Which was when Aria realised that she’d begun rocking against his erection, desperate for pressure on her swollen, sensitive pussy.
“No,” she bit out.
“Mmm,” he murmured dryly. He might as well have called her a liar. His hand rested on her hip, feeling hotter than it should. “I don’t know why you stopped things, earlier, but I think you still want me. Am I wrong?”
She turned her head, met his eyes, and her sarcastic response dropped out of her head. She was caught, as if in a spider’s web—but the trap lay in the expression on his face, the gentleness that belied his teasing tone, as if he really fucking cared about the answer. He held her gaze, unflinching, as he waited for a response.
Before she could manage one, the next challenge was shouted in Baxter’s deep voice. “Never have I ever had a fivesome. Public or otherwise.”
Nik’s expression soured, and he looked past her to glare at the grinning blond. Then, his face still hard, he drank.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. How the hell was she supposed to compete with a fivesome? “At that point it’s just a bloody orgy,” she muttered.
Sweet on the Greek: An Interracial Romance (Just for Him Book 3) Page 9
