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But as I lean in for a taste, he lifts me up, throwing me over his shoulder like a goddamned caveman.
“Bedroom?” he growls, but he’s already on the move.
I squeal and flail as he crosses my living room and strides down the short hallway, but the effort is nominal at best. Caveman Nico is totally doing it for me, making me more desperate for him by the second.
My bedroom door is open; he has no trouble finding it. Inside, he stops at the side of the bed and drops me on it with my legs hanging over the edge. I land on my back, bouncing. Before I can right myself, he grabs hold of my shorts and thong, yanks them off, and shoves my thighs apart, stepping between them while his eyes graze greedily over my body.
When his eyes hit my pussy, his hand follows, grazing a finger along my slit and sliding deep inside me, immediately withdrawing a little.
“Oh, god,” I gasp as he hits my G-spot on the first stroke. Not only can the man kiss, he can finger like a freaking pro. Perfect.
He keeps it up, thrusting in over and over again. He hits the sweet spot each time, proving it was no fluke and making it feel like there’s a coil inside me, winding tighter and tighter.
He leans over me, palming my breast with his free hand while he suckles the other nipple into his mouth, sending hot jolts of pleasure traveling down a straight line to my pussy.
“You’re so wet, Sophie. Look at you making a mess all over my hand.”
“Oh fuck, Nico,” I cry, helplessly tightening around his finger at his words. He presses in a second finger, and I start to feel the first tingling pressure of an orgasm, mounting, building.
He keeps it up, fingering, sucking on my hard nipples, and grazing them gently with his teeth, while I moan and run my hands over everything I can reach. His shoulders, the back of his neck, down the rolling muscles of his back to where his pants impede further exploration.
He feels too good; I’m not sure I could hold out if I tried, but I don’t try. His fingers thrust once more, and I rocket over the edge, coming hard as I cry out and tremble for him.
He leans up and slides his fingers out of me. I already know what’s coming next and I can’t wait to see the rest of him. There’s a command in his eyes as he looks at me.
Stay, he says without actually saying it into the back pocket of his pants.
Ha! I don’t think so.
I sit up and undo his belt, the supple leather yielding easily under my fingers. My mouth waters in anticipation as I unzip his pants and yank them down over his ass, along with his black boxer briefs. His hard cock springs free. It’s big and thick and so freaking perfect it makes my pussy gush in anticipation of stretching to take his girth. And finally, I get a glimpse of the metal that pierces the plump head.
I wrap my hand around the base of his cock and stroke upward, coming just shy of the sensitive ridge. Then again, and again. When I work my hand higher, catching the metal beneath my fingers, he groans, grabs my wrist and pulls it away.
Before I can object, he rolls on a condom one-handed. Wrapping his large hand around my throat, he pushes me back down on the bed.
“Be a good girl now. Put your hands high above your head and spread your legs,” he gruffly commands.
How is it even possible that I had an orgasm less than two minutes ago?
I moan, shaking with lust, my brain emptying of every other thought except doing what Nico wants.
When he pins my hands to the mattress and grabs hold of his cock with his free hand, notching himself against me, fireworks go off somewhere in my brain. My stomach muscles contract, and my heart pounds.
God, yes. Now.
But he lingers there, the plush head of his erection pressed against my entrance. He’s looking at me. There’s a brief flicker of emotion in his dark pupils, one that somehow seems foreign even to him. I can’t quite read it.
“How do you want it?” he bites out.
Oh. Well, I never would have pegged an arrogant, dominant mafia man as a considerate lover, but I can’t say I’m disappointed.
I whisper, “Umm, don’t hold back?” I’m not exactly sure what I’m signing up for here, but I know I’m so done with boring sex and careful choices, accountants and dentists. I want the raw, feral energy that’s radiating from the man above me. I want to swim in it, be consumed by it.
His eyes flare as he grabs hold of my hip and enters me with a powerful thrust that fills and stretches me to my breaking point.
“Fuck!” I cry out, my hands fist, and my back arches, innately resisting his girth, but he doesn’t let me. He withdraws and slams back in, keeping my hip and wrists pinned against the bed.
And then, I feel it; the stroke of his cock and the rub of his piercing against my inner walls.
