by Rena Marks
A small part of me realizes the hurt in Jordan’s voice is that of possessive anger. Not of love.
Nico doesn't answer.
“What do you want, Jordan?” I ask impatiently, raising my breasts slightly in Nico's palms, amazed at how right it feels. How sexy the warmth of his large hands feel where he spoons my breasts, and how my hard nipples are poking into his skin.
“You're a prude with me and then you pick my father?” Jordan’s voice has reduced to a boy’s whine.
“You picked your father's fiancée,” I remind him, “over me.”
“Well, yes.” Jordan has the grace to squirm uncomfortably. “But I returned when I realized what a mistake I made.”
“Do you mean when Stephanie realized you don't come into your money until you reach thirty?” Nico asks.
“That's not true,” Jordan says. “Stephanie is more than willing to wait. I decided to return to Felicia.”
“Well, perhaps you can return to Stephanie, or learn to be single then. Felicia is mine. She always has been.”
“That's sick, Felicia,” Jordan says, ignoring his dad. “He's twice your age.”
Twelve years is hardly that.
Nico blows his heated breath alongside my neck, curling my insides with hidden promises. He’s hardly fazed by Jordan’s insult. “I have spoiled him dreadfully,” he says.
“Go back to Stephanie, Jordan.” My voice is a whisper. “I don't want you. I’m done.”
It's true. Jordan is a pale imitation of Nico. And now I'm aware, Nico is who I always wanted.
Decision made, I turn in his strong arms. He drops his hands to my waist, baring my bare back to Jordan. He cups my ass instead and brings me to him, where I can feel his erection through his designer jeans. I wrap my slender arms around Nico's neck, and his lips descend again.
Jordan departs, slamming the front door.
Nico steps away, breathing heavy. His temper in check. His passion in check.
“Step away from me, Felicia. Much as I'd love to have you, I do not want you like this, ma petite.”
“Pooh,” I say, and roll my eyes.
With the widening of his eyes, Nico looks surprised, yet his dark eyes gleam at the thought of something more. “You wish to continue?”
I raise my brows. I'm standing here, bare-breasted and he wonders if I'd like to go on? I reach down for my blouse, sliding it on without my flimsy bra, because hell, I'm the only one half-naked here. And I really don’t know if he’s going to be swayed by my nudity.
“Of course you do,” he whispers. He bends and picks up the pink wisp of my bra. “Even now, I smell your desire. Your needs. Your want.”
“I made a choice. And,” I continue, “what do you mean by smelling my want?”
Nico smiles. “It's not always the staff doing your laundry, ma petite. You have way too many panties to know if any are missing. I know your scent inside and out.”
I've sniffed my panties myself. But the thought of Nico sniffing them when I never knew it is an incredible turn-on.
“We must talk about this first. Make sure this is what you truly want inside. I know what your body desires, ma petite. But I want all of you. I wish to own your soul, not just your body.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, but I nod. He clasps my hand and pulls me to the Boca do Lobo sofa, strategically placed in a seating arrangement with the other furniture. It is this sofa where my mother sat the first time we entered Nico’s home—a gleam in her eye matching that of the diamond on her finger as she took in the money the sofa signified.
I was terrified to be left in such a monstrous house, and my eyes overflowed as I begged her not to leave. She snapped at me to watch the sofa and flung me to the floor. I remember Nico’s lips tightening at the thought of me ruining the expensive furniture with the wet of my tears, and instructing Jordan to take me outside.
It was not long after that when my mother left. I haven’t heard from her since.
I snap back to the present to see Nico watching me.
“You have always hated this piece, ma petite.”
“It reminds me of the last time I saw my mother.”
“I keep it for that reason.”
“To remind you of your mistake?” Surely if he’d known his marriage was a mistake, he wouldn’t have attempted another with Stephanie?
“My marriage to your mother was not a mistake. It was a deliberate action. As was introducing her to the man cocky enough to steal her away from me.” His lips twist with a sardonic smile.
I’m confused. He wanted her to go?
He leans in, enjoying my frown. “I hosted parties nightly. All aimed to bring couples together. Don’t you remember?”
I vaguely remembered watching from the top of the stairs, Jordan’s hand clasped in mine, as he told me about all the similar parties he’d host when we grew up.
“You were literally the most beautiful child I’d ever seen. That hair, flowing down past your waist! Those eyes. So green. You looked like a lost little fairy, a beacon of light in my dark life.”
His smile stops abruptly.
“She had no idea I approached when she flung you from this sofa. When I asked her about it later, she claimed you tripped. Threatened to cut your hair, because it was so long it interfered with your balance. Warned of how we’d need to keep you away from the balconies.”
I had no idea. But I did know Nico employed a hairdresser to live on the premises—her sole directive to care for my hair.
Nico twists a lock of my hair in his fingers. He drops it abruptly as if it is a weakness he doesn’t wish to show.
“Come with me, Felicia.”
He takes my hand and we’re gliding up the stairs. We enter his office.
“Technically, my marriage to your mother could have been annulled.” He shows me the marriage certificate.
He shows me the divorce decree. It is a required ninety-day waiting period and dates exactly that from the marriage ceremony.
“It was never consummated,” Nico says.
“Then why would you divorce instead of annul?” I’m confused. It makes no sense. I remember living here…I remember my mother living here.
“She lived here for a mere three months, long enough for the divorce to become final. I could have kicked her out, I suppose. But it would have been harder on you not to have that transition period.”
“Why are you my guardian?” I whisper.
“Because I wanted you. From the day I first set eyes on you, I wanted you.”
I wait for him to continue. He appears to be weighing his words.
“Your mother and I came to an agreement. A divorce allowed her to save face…and collect a bit of money so she would not seem like a pauper seeking out wealthy billionaires. It also gave her a reason to claim to fall in love with my nemesis quickly—with a promise she’d leave me for him should he marry her. He did not know our divorce would go through with or without her filing. He merely assumed she was the one to choose to leave on her terms.”
“It made him feel as if he stole her from you.”
“Exactly. Now he can feel as if he one-upped me, while I know he suffers with the baggage I threw away. Knowing all this—do you still wish for my hands to caress your soft skin?”
I stare into his eyes and deliberately nod. I know that my twisted desire for Jordan’s father has not abated.
Chapter Three
“Follow me, ma petite.”
His master bedroom is magnificent. Jordan and I used to refer to it as the “sex room.” Adorned in black, with attachments built into the headboard for handcuffs, the king-sized bed is decadent indulgence. Clearly, no expense has been spared. Come to think of it, he's never spared any expense for my bedroom, either. But that means nothing. He doesn’t need to. The man has so much money, it will never run tight.
I stretch out on his bed, looking up. The ceiling is mirrored.
He crawls on top of me, stretching his length along mine. From t
he mirrors, I watch, and it’s strangely erotic see our images come together.
“Where were we?” His voice is low and rumbly and it shoots sparks of desire to my nether regions.
“I should tell you I'm sorry.”
“For what?”
“Getting Stephanie and Jordan together,” I say. “I never really apologized. Not sincerely.”
“It was not in your control, sweetling,” he says mildly. “The actions are strictly those of Jordan and Stephanie.” He deposits the lightest of kisses to my lips. “I raised him like a son, but I spoiled him atrociously. He has to figure it out now that he is a man.”
I'm stunned. This hard, angry man has been reduced to sweet kisses.
“But you're so angry,” I insist, pulling his shirt from the waistband of his pants. I run a fingertip over his abs, exploring the little indents of muscles there. His breath sucks in sharply with my touch.
“Not at you, ma petite! Never at you. Sometimes with you, of course.”
“I understand,” I say, taking my punishment.
Nico grabs my chin. “Do not ever accept less than you're worth! You do not understand. I'm not angry with you for the affair between my son and Stephanie. I'm angry with you because you allow Jordan to treat you like a doormat, and still you take him back. Time and time again. You do not know how magnificent you are, mon trésor. My son has been a spoiled brat. Your own mother favored him over you, and do you know why?”
“No,” I say, hesitantly.
“She knew of my interest in you. She left you with me, Felicia. I have been waiting all this time for you to grow up, to teach you all the pleasures in life and instead, you showed interest in Jordan.”
“Jordan was a substitute for you,” I whisper. “I just didn't know until now.”
I press my lips to his throat, tasting the essence of his skin. He's golden and unique, wild and tame, all at the same time.
He is mine.
He lowers his lips, kissing me deeply, finally. He pulls away long enough to say, “I've wanted this for so long. There is so much to teach you.”
Before I can respond, he rips the expensive silk blouse from my body in one fell swoop. The tear sounds vicious as it echoes throughout the room, and startles me for a second with its savagery.
He leans down and kisses the pointed tip of my bared breast. It's electric fire and feels nothing like when Jordan sucks. When Nico speaks, delicious ripples skitter against my skin and I thrust my nipple closer to him.
“Take off your skirt or it gets ripped, too.” His voice rumbles, deeper now with lust.
A thrill shoots through my midsection.
Jordan and I have spied, watching snippets of scenes with Nico and various girlfriends—hard to tell which girls were which through the leather, lace, and whips.
I'm not fast enough for him and the skirt is ripped in two, sending a tantalizing shiver through me. And then his mouth is there, skimming along the lacy edge of my panties, his tongue dipping in the seam between fabric and skin.
My skin is hot and eager, pulsating for his touch. I need him to fill me because I never knew how empty I felt. Incomplete without him. Needing him to be attached to me in the most intimate of ways.
He grabs the fabric of my flimsy panties with his teeth and pulls. I am completely bared.
Suddenly, I feel insecure. I try to close my legs, but he holds my knees apart with a firm hand. “Don't hide from me. I want to see it. I want to see everything.”
I relax, and he stares at the most vulnerable area of my body.
“God, Felicia, your cunt is so beautiful. A sexy pussy, thick and swollen, dripping with need.”
His raw voice sends a shiver to said cunt.
“Nico,” I gasp.
He comes back up to kiss me some more.
I feel something slowly enter me. A finger.
His tongue dances with mine, and his finger replaces the emptiness I seek to fill.
“You’re so wet,” he rumbles, his voice husky. “So warm. So soft. Damn it.” He growls as if straining to hold back a primal need that threatens to consume him. He pushes a finger deep, stroking, exploring. “All ready for my cock.”
His filthy words cause my pussy to clench around his finger, and I wish I could keep him inserted forever.
“I know,” I say, moving my hips in rhythm to his hand. “And you’re not even naked.”
Slowly, sharply, he pulls his finger out and slaps my clit. I cry out. The sting almost makes me gush fluid, it's so erotic.
“Again,” I demand.
He slaps my mound again, careful to hit my clitoris with his middle finger.
“Like that, cherie?”
“V-Very,” I stutter. How could such a small thing feel so marvelous?
I feel his grin as he nibbles on the side of my mouth, requesting entrance again. And when his tongue explores my mouth this time, his body shifts slightly away as he removes articles of clothing.
This time when he covers me, he's nude and hot and my nipples tingle as they rub against the coarse hair on his chest.
Nico nude is a work of art—that much I remember from the spying sessions. Once Nico attached a swing to the ceiling, and a naked woman sat in it. I'm not sure what for, as my teenage eyes were glued to the vision of Nico's form. His ass as the buttocks clenched, his strong thighs as they held him and the woman up. My only frown came because her legs clamped around his ass, blocking my view.
I'm distracted from my thoughts when he kisses me again, and this time when he inserts his tongue into my mouth, he inserts his finger into my pussy at the same time, up to the second knuckle, mimicking the movements of his tongue.
“You're already close, aren't you?” he says.
I nod, painfully aware of my need, my fingers desperately clenching the sheets as I try to control the impending orgasm. I bite my lip, trying to hold back the moan building inside my throat. This is so wickedly delightful, I'm afraid I'll come from his finger alone.
I bend my knees and open my legs wide, wanting him fully and completely. Ready for the huge cock I know he has.
He kisses his way down me, gently tonguing the dip of my navel and tracing circles around my belly button ring.
“I want your legs over my shoulders,” he whispers as he lowers further. His mouth is so close to my pussy and his hot labored breaths blow warm air over my clit. He takes a deep breath. He's inhaling my scent, the familiar scent from my panties.
Even more excitement arches in my belly at the prospect of what will come next.
I fling my long legs over his broad shoulders as he requests, and he buries his face in the curls nestled between my legs. Liquid heat explodes in my lower region as his hot, moist mouth flicks at and tastes my folds.
I moan in ecstasy as he sucks sensitive parts of me into heavenly warmth.
The one time I allowed Jordan to try this, it was awful. Like a dog licking me.
This. This is so incredibly different. So erotic, so...filthy. Hot and wet and dirty.
“Stop,” I gasp. “I can’t take anymore. I’m so close to the edge.” I’m about to break—out of control.
“Keep your legs over my shoulders,” he instructs, as he moves up along my body.
His dick is beautiful, glistening with shiny wetness leaking from the purple, mushroom-shaped head.
I reach for it. It's hard and soft at the same time, silky smooth and hot, like a fever. And so incredibly long and thick. I stroke it and squeeze it.
I cup his balls in my other palm. They're heavy and solid. I can hardly wait to suck them into my mouth.
“I've never been this hard before,” he growls. “I want you so bad.”
He spears his magnificent cock at the entrance of my pussy and then rams it in, popping my hymen.
I yelp in pain, and he stills.
“What the fuck?” he says.
And he's angry again.
My teeth are tightly clenched against the pain.
“A virgin?�
�� he asks.
I nod.
“How can that be? Jordan?” His voice is puzzled and harsh.
“I've never let him go that far. I didn't realize it, but it wasn't him I was interested in.”
My legs still wrapped over his shoulders nearly fold me in half, and I am open in new ways as he reaches depths only imaginable.
And now that the pain has slowly abated, it feels incredibly sexy to be together as one, him buried in me up to the hilt.
His thrusts are slow and become powerful, masterful, stroking me mercilessly to the edge and threatening to blast me over to the other side. He finds a rhythm and my heart skips a beat.
“Nico, Nico!” I’m chanting, incapable of words as my orgasm looms near.
“Felicia, ma cherie, you feel so good. So tight.” He looks into my eyes and there’s something in his. Something possessive, something sexy. Something tangible that pushes me over the edge.
“I'm coming!”
“Come now!”
I cry out at the same time my body does, at his demand for everything I have. Hot sensations roll over me, and my entire body convulses in spasms.
At my gasping cries, he releases my legs from his shoulders so I’ll be more comfortable when he comes. He continues riding my body as I watch in the mirror, his muscular ass dancing in and out. He shouts before hot, sticky cum floods into my womb, invading me—marking me.
Making me his.
Nico rolls us over so that he's on his back and I rest on top of him, his cock still thick and hard, buried deep within me with my pussy still erupting in aftershocks around it—completely filling and completely comforting.
Now his eyes are glued to the mirror…watching us. To my delight, he takes me again.
Chapter Four
Jordan moved out of the mansion.
This is the first time in his life he has ever been away from home. It turns out Stephanie wasn’t willing to wait and since this was the one time I refused to take him back, he claimed to not be able to stand the idea of Nico and I fucking, as he called it.
