by CC MacKenzie
Chapter Fifteen
From his swift intake of breath, Bronte knew she'd scored a hit.
"Why are you acting like this?"
She couldn't look at him. "Because I refuse to be used yet again by a man."
Especially by a man who knew exactly how to press a woman's buttons, literally and figuratively.
Nico hissed out a breath.
"Rewind, you have lost me."
The hard tone of anger in his voice made her wince.
She turned to him, folding her arms to protect her throbbing nipples.
"No matter how much sex we have the house is still not for sale."
His eyes never left hers as heat soared into his cheeks then drained away leaving him white with fury.
Her stomach gave nervy little jerks.
Naked and totally comfortable with it, Nico stood proud and tall.
He hauled on his jeans and moved towards her. God, he looked amazing.
Bronte forced herself to stand still and not step back.
His hands, hard now, gripped her shoulders.
Hot, angry eyes drilled into hers.
"You think I made love to you for the house?"
Why wouldn't her voice work?
"You seduced me. You're trying to soften me up."
By the appalled shock in those dark eyes, by the way his head jerked back, Bronte knew she'd made a terrible mistake and wished she could take the words back.
He released her as if she'd burned him and shook his head.
"You are unbelievable. If you have regrets, say so. Have the courage to tell the truth. But do not dare ..." He took a breath, his voice a whip that lashed her from top to toe. "Do not dare to imply you were not a very willing participant."
"I am not denying anything. But it's obvious you are sexually experienced, very experienced from what I hear. You knew exactly what to do to me."
"And it is obvious that you are not experienced. And also very stupid."
Stung, Bronte followed him as he stalked through to the kitchen.
Nico picked up his sweater and yanked it over his head.
He threw hers and she caught it before it hit her in the face.
All her insecurities, all the little darts of poison that had been fired into her psyche for years by a man who'd tried to destroy her self esteem rose like bile into her throat.
"I'm not stupid. Why else would you hit on me? Why else would you want to have sex with me unless I have something you want? I'm hardly your type am I?"
He whirled around to face her, those eyes now the colour of a stormy sea.
"How do you know my type? You know nothing about me. You have judged and found me wanting from the first moment we met. You appear to believe I am a man who seduces women for his own material benefit."
"Can you deny that you still want my home?"
"No, I cannot deny it. But I would never whore myself to get it. You have just treated me like a damned stud," he roared at her.
Shaking with reaction, she realised she'd hurt him as well as made him very angry.
Oh God Bronte, what have you done?
She was trembling now, her voice a mere whisper, "I didn't mean for you to take what I said in that way."
"What did you mean? Do you know? Because one man treats you badly we are all damned? How fair is that?"
She had to close her eyes to his absolute rage.
"It's just that you've had hundreds of women. You have a certain reputation."
She opened her eyes and saw dark brows wing into his hairline.
"Where did you hear this nonsense?"
Bronte knew instinctively the worst thing to say would be that he'd been googled.
She was losing the argument and rightly so.
What on earth had she been thinking having sex with this man?
She couldn't think straight.
"Look, let's draw a line under this. You like a certain type of woman and I'm not it."
Her eyes slid to his and she saw with relief that Nico looked totally confused now and less angry. He dragged his hands through his hair in an expression of bewildered male frustration.
"I have never slept with a woman if I was in a relationship with another. I have never paid for sex. My needs are crystal clear and I never make promises I do not keep."
Her mind kept coming back to the main issue.
"Why do you want me?"
Stunned dark eyes stared into hers.
He shook his head as if trying to clear it.
"My God, you have absolutely no idea. Have you?"
When she said nothing, he moved closer until his finger tilted her chin.
"What did your fianc? do to you?"
Deeply uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken, Bronte jerked her chin away.
"Why on earth bring Jonathan into this?"
Those eyes filled again with impatient annoyance and glared into hers.
"You brought him into this, straight after we made love."
She opened her mouth and then closed it.
He was right. She had permitted Jonathan's words to affect her. His vicious comments, filled with malice, poured out of her mouth before she could stop them.
"He said I was too frigid for him, because I wouldn't ... er ... do certain things to him. That I couldn't satisfy him and that's why he needed another woman."
Nico gripped her shoulders, gave her a shake.
"Madre de Dio! If you believed that then you are stupid."
"I was going to marry him, why wouldn't I believe him." She tried to push him away but he didn't budge. "You've just told me I'm not experienced enough for you." And told herself she sounded absolutely pathetic.
He gave her another little shake and this time his forehead touched hers, his shoulders relaxing.
"I did not say any such thing. You are inexperienced but I love your responses to my touch, my kisses. Your breathy sighs and cries of pleasure increase my own."
Nico pulled her close and nuzzled the soft spot under her ear.
Feeling like a complete moron, Bronte wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned into him.
Her heart did a crazy little flip.
"I wasn't really thinking of him. I was thinking of me."
He framed her face with large hands and forced her to meet his dark eyes.
"You were thinking of him if you remembered his words and how he made you feel. Do you want me to tell you what it was like for me? It was magical, cara, and amazing." He brushed his lips, softly, gently, over hers and muttered into her mouth, "Trust me. You cried my name when you came."
Mortified that he said such things to her and with her lips tingling, Bronte didn't believe a word of it. Men like Nico Ferranti didn't find women like her magical and amazing. But God, she wished with all her heart that he did.
?"It was probably a one off," she told him in a disbelieving voice. "I can't imagine that happening every single time."
She bent to retrieve her yoga pants.
"I would not bother, cara. I will just take them off again."
Nico's voice was low and throaty, almost a growl.
Her head whipped up in time to see him move fast as he bent and hauled her over his shoulder.
She yelped in alarm.
"Nico! Put me down."
A flat hand smacked her bottom hard enough to make her gasp.
"That is for doubting yourself and me. A one-off? I have never been so insulted."
He strode through the house, heading for the stairs.
"Where are you...? Put me down..." she sputtered, split between laughter and dread as he marched up the stairs.
"I'm continuing your education, cara, and from what happened earlier, you appear to be a fast learner. Believe me, you will not be thinking of another man the next time I make love to you."
Torn between heady delight and sheer terror, she found her legs caught close to his body.
Nico ignored the fists drumming on his back. Which only added fuel to t
he fire of her temper.
Her insults deteriorated into expletives.
He found her bedroom and tossed her into the middle of her enormous bed.
In an attempt to escape, Bronte flipped over onto her stomach.
But Nico simply grabbed her ankles, pulling her back down the bed and straddled her legs.
His voice went soft and low.
"Your language is a disgrace. I would not have thought a well bred young woman would know such words."
Panting, she lifted her head to see him remove two foil packages from the back of his jeans and place them on her bedside table.
"Get off me."
"No."
He whipped off his sweater and tossed it.
His eyes were dark and hot with mixture of arousal and irritation.
Those toned chest muscles flexed as he bent over her and she took a moment to enjoy the view of the plains and dips of his six-pack and that hard flat stomach. Fine silky hair ran from his chest to below his jeans in an inverted V. And she decided she loved the feeling of being weak and feminine. Her sweater followed his as a big hand squeezed her buttock cheek and a finger pinged the top of her panties. No matter how hard she tried to remain unaffected, an illicit thrill raced through her system to pool, hot and wet, between her thighs.
Bronte groaned. "Nico." Her voice was almost a plea as he slipped a finger between her buttocks.
"I am going to take off my jeans. If you move one inch, I will spank you. How dare you bring another man between us and then doubt what we share. Trust me, cara mia, it will not happen again."
Bronte could not believe she was doing this. She was lying virtually naked on her tummy, too scared to move in case he did indeed spank her.
Her breath caught in her throat as he straddled her again.
However this time he knelt over her, a hand either side of her head as his erection pressed into the small of her back.
He couldn't be ready again, could he?
She turned to look at him, feeling horribly vulnerable and wonderfully aroused.
His mouth tasted hers as his hips rubbed against her buttocks.
His cock hard and searching as it nudged the soft skin between her thighs.
Bronte arched her back.
His tongue, hot and silky slipped into her mouth and explored with a devastating thoroughness that left her gasping for air. He sucked her tongue into his mouth and she shuddered in wicked delight. He couldn't seem to get enough of her mouth.
Then he flipped her on her back and dragged her up to her knees in front of him. His cock jerking into her soft belly.
Nico moved onto his back, resting on her many pillows. She knelt beside him unsure of what to do. His eyes, dark and brooding with arousal, met hers.
A gasp escaped from her throat as he unashamedly gripped his cock and stroked from root to tip, pleasuring himself in front of her startled gaze.
Bronte couldn't drag her eyes from the blunt head of his swollen cock. Her tongue ran over her bottom lip and Nico moaned. She clenched her thighs.
?"Please, Nico. Let me touch you."
He simply lay there, relaxed, stroking his cock which appeared to grow harder and thicker.
Those eyes mesmerised her, she couldn't look away.
"Open a condom for me and come closer."
Mortified that she fumbled such a simple task, Bronte's heart beat a rapid tattoo in her throat, until she held the tip of the condom between trembling fingers. Without words and never taking his eyes from hers, Nico took her hands placing his fingers over hers to slide the protection home.
His pupils dilated as he slid two fingers between her legs. Her womb clenched and Bronte moaned deep in her throat.
"My God, cara, you are so aroused. You have no idea how beautiful you are, how swollen and heavy with need for me." His voice, deep and low, hypnotised her.
She gasped as he moved fast.
Flipping her on her back, he caught her wrists in one hand holding them above her head. His eyes, jet black with arousal took a long, lingering look at her body openly displayed for his pleasure. She trembled in reaction as he gently nudged her legs wider apart with a strong thigh.
Then he dipped his head and stared into her eyes with an intensity that made her shudder with something like fear and a brutal arousal.
"I am going to take my time and taste every part of you until you scream with ecstasy. I am going to bury myself deep within you until you come again. Are you ready, cara?"
Her reply was a whimper and that appeared not to be enough for him.
"Do you want me to taste you?"
His lips nibbled a lazy path across her jaw, under her ear to the spot that made her purr her answer.
Bronte lifted her hips, wantonly wriggling under him, rubbing her too sensitive breasts across his strong chest. His lips smiled against her neck and he released her wrists, using both hands to pleasure, plunder and explore.
She took the opportunity to run her hands over his broad, strong shoulders as her heart thundered in her ears. He savoured a pebbled nipple, teased the sensitive flesh with the tip of his tongue, then suckled hard in way that made her gasp and grip his head, pulling him closer. He paid its twin the same attentions making her cry out as the liquid pull deep in her belly responded to his touch. With care he skimmed his fingertips over her ribcage, closely followed by his hot mouth. His tongue lingered over her flat tummy, paying particular attention to her belly button and she almost shot off the bed.
Nico had never, ever had a woman so responsive to him, she shuddered and trembled under him and it aroused him unbearably.
For the first time in his life, he wanted to take great care, to give a woman mindless pleasure. Again he caressed her soft breasts. They fit perfectly into the palm of his hands. God, her skin smelt fabulous and each part of her, the underside of her breast, her belly, her hip had its own unique taste.
She groaned and her eyes closed as his fingertips smoothed the too sensitive skin along her hip bone and travelled lower to the tender spot between her thigh and her mound. Her hands travelled across his shoulders and then her nails dug into his flesh as he cupped her. She jerked as he changed tempo and crushed his mouth to hers in a passionate, bruising, breathless kiss.
She gasped and cried out as he plundered down her flesh devouring her with his hungry mouth, his teeth nipping with gentle little bites, desperate now to taste and take.
Gripping her hips, he growled, pulling her hot, slick core to his mouth and feasted.
"Oh, God!"
His mouth suckled, his tongue licked and speared into her.
Ruthlessly he used his tongue as a weapon of pleasure bringing her to a fast, raging orgasm that had her bucking under him. He held her legs wide and open. She wanted to drown in him, sink into him as he forced her up again until she gripped the sheets in sweaty, trembling hands. She screamed her lungs out with another orgasm so deep, so prolonged that the world went dark shattering her reality.
Nico devoured, lapped and drank the evidence of her release.
And he wasn't finished. With one sharp inhale, he entered her. The ache in his cock, the burning of his bones eased as he slid in and out. She was so tight, so wet, so hot he couldn't speak, didn't need to. He shoved up her thigh and thrust into her faster, harder. And discovered with a feeling of pure joy that she was with him all the way, her throaty cries synchronised with her hips as they rose to meet his, thrust for thrust. Then he felt her gather again as her breath hitched, every muscle from her toes to her fingertips went rigid.
"Let go, let go," he commanded breathlessly. Her body jerked and she rocked his world as she came apart in his arms.
From a distance, Nico heard himself roar as he held her tight and emptied his seed within her.
Then a deep sob escaped from his throat as he collapsed, gasping for air on top of her.
He rolled to his side, turning Bronte and taking her with him.
He closed his eyes.
His hear
t thundered against her back as he settled her in the spoon position and her body rippled around his. Mini aftershocks followed one after the other. He seriously didn't know whether he was ecstatic or devastated. He'd thought it couldn't get any better than the first time they'd made love and he'd been so wrong.
Nico clenched his jaw as again her internal muscles milked every drop of life giving liquid from him. He shuddered and buried his face in the fragile nape of her neck. If they kept this up, they would be dead within a week.
She was slick with healthy sweat and he was in just as bad a state.
He was not a snuggler, never had been, but he wanted to stay like this, joined to this woman for ever. Reality elbowed him in the ribs, but he ignored it, simply enjoying the moment, muttering endearments in Italian and pressing soft kisses to the sensitive skin, baby soft, below her ear. He was stroking her hip, her thigh as he held her close.
At last she calmed, relaxed, her body still reluctant to release his. She was a miracle. Nico didn't question his too intense feelings. They were what they were and that was the beginning and the end of it.
He knew for certain that Bronte was destined to play a crucial part in his future. Although how the mighty had fallen in less than forty-hours was a complete and utter mystery.
They must have slept.
When Nico awoke he was no longer inside her.
Bronte whimpered, curled up in a foetal position near the edge of the bed. Her shuddering sobs fractured the steel door protecting his heart. He couldn't bear the sound of her distress. Desperately he pulled her sobbing into his arms. It took him a heartbeat and then another to realise she was in the grip of a vicious nightmare.
She muttered words he couldn't grasp.
Appalled, he watched rapid eye movement under eyelids so fragile they reminded him of tissue paper. Tiny beads of sweat prickled across her brow and top lip. With infinite care, he pressed his lips to her brow and stroked her gently bringing her back to him.
"Cara, wake up. It is a bad dream." And he thanked Christ when her eyelids fluttered and her breathing calmed. "Wake up, you are dreaming."
