“You are mean.”
“Many people would agree with you.”
“I have not seenitup close yet.”
“It?”
“I should claw your eyes out,”I grumble in Italian.
“You peeked on me in the shower. You saw it then.”
My face burns. “Not enough.”
Amused chuckling fills the room, lighting me up in the dark. I like making Nico laugh. Then, he flicks on the bedside lamp. “Better?”
Much better. Bathed in the soft yellowish glow, his body fascinates me. From those stormy gray eyes to the hair on his muscled legs, every inch of Nico draws me in. His torso is powerful, tanned and perfect even with his Trio tattoo and various scars. His abs are defined and his waist narrows toward his hips with that delicious V. His lips and chin are glistening. I’m both embarrassed and turned on by the reason why.
“That is too big to be inside me,” I say, appraising his cock.
He smirks, reaching up to lightly stroke my cheek. “Too late to claim that now. Have you ever seen a naked man before me?”
I nod and then shake my head. “Only in pictures.”
“Good.”
I roll my eyes at his possessiveness, even if I expect nothing less from a man like Nico. “You will leave the lights on when I want to admire you,” I tell him, feeling bold.
“Oh, I will, will I?”
“Yes. I will never see any other man naked.”
“No, you won’t unless you want him dead. Too bad I can’t murder a picture.”
I shake my head at him, but my eyes automatically dart back to his semi-erect cock. I could feel his hardness earlier when we were kissing and tearing at our clothes. Perhaps eating me leaves him lessexcited. But a pool of wetness on the sheets suggests otherwise. “Is this…”
“My cum.” He pairs his statement with an unbothered shrug while fresh heat blasts my cheeks. “So innocent,” he murmurs, cupping my face. “I couldn’t help it when you were close to coming the first time.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. You turn me into a fucking boy apparently.”
“Oh.”
A ridiculous sense of pride fills me, and he chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be ready for more soon.” Just then, his cock twitches as though it agrees, making my eyes fly open wide. Full-throated laughter this time as his abs tighten in a way that makes my pussy clench. Ilovehearing him laugh.
But when he strokes my face again and I try to mimic his move, wariness leaps into his expression. He does not like for me to touch his face. Why? Is it a fear response because of how he got his scar?
I content myself with touching his chest instead, running my fingernails along his pecs and mesmerized by the sprinkling of wiry, dark hair. I watch the way it rises and falls with his deep breaths. I could touch him all night. What a marvelous thing to think I might, that I will have him for this night and all of our nights to come.
My hand settles over some small cursive script in Italian tattooed under his ribs. “I did not see this before -Camminerò fino all’inferno per te.”
“I will walk to hell for you,” he repeats in English.
For you.The Trio? His wife? His children? How long has he had it? I’m afraid to ask.
While I’m pondering what to say next, he shifts to his side, rubbing my hip. “I want to fuck you.”
I shiver at the husked words, my desire stirring once more, but I can’t manage more than a nod before he turns me onto my belly. Sucking in a rapid breath, my nostrils are filled with his scent from his pillow. Goosebumps cover my skin as he lightly strokes my butt. Will it hurt this way? I don’t know for certain, but I feel more vulnerable.
