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If he didn’t immediately spear two thick fingers inside me, I might argue that I want to be coming all over his cock too, but when he finds my G-spot, I lose all sense of anything and just do as I’m told.
His tongue laps at my clit as his fingers brush over that magic spot inside me again and again, building me up to what I know is going to be a mind-blowing release. It always is with him. It’s why I’m not protesting about him taking over. I know that tomorrow, I’ll regret it. It’s going to make him think that I’ve forgiven him.
I haven’t. Not by a long way, but I am only so strong.
And what’s my other option—aside from my own fingers right now? Call Brad? Yeah, no. I don’t think so.
“Nico,” I cry out when my release is in touching distance.
“Come for me, Siren. Give me everything.”
His words slam into me, fear racing through my veins that he’s demanding more than I can give, but it’s too late. I’m too far gone, and one more lick of his skilled tongue and I’m soaring.
“NICO,” I scream as pleasure explodes through me, shooting through my limbs and making the tips of my fingers and the ends of my toes tingle with its intensity.
My chest heaves as wave after wave of pleasure overtakes my system, leaving me a sweaty, sated mess before him.
“Fuck, that was good,” I confess on a breathy moan. “You might be a cruel prick, but you’ve got some mad skills.”
His chuckle fills the air, clearly not offended in the slightest—standard—but before I get a chance to say or do anything else, my exhaustion takes over and darkness comes.
Fucking painkillers.
As of tomorrow, I’m done with them.
Fuck the pain. I want to be living.
* * *
I awake with a start. My eyes fly open so wide they hurt, but I can’t see anything. The blackout curtains are too good.
I scan the darkness, looking for evidence of what happened the night before. But there is nothing. The chair is empty—well, aside from the clothes I’ve thrown on it over the past few days. And more importantly, when I slide my hand out to the other side of the bed, it’s also empty. And cold.
“Shit,” I hiss, rolling onto my back.
Something tugs at my ankle, and when I reach down, I find my knickers twisted up around it.
Fuck.
What was I thinking?
A noise out in the flat catches my attention, and when I look over at the alarm clock, I find that it’s long past when Toby should have already left for school.
Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I try to ignore the ache that sits heavy in my stomach.
I might have got off last night, but it was nowhere near enough.
He didn’t even fuck me with that delicious cock of his.
Why did he think that abandoning me without the full Nico Cirillo experience would leave me feeling more likely to forgive him? Not that any number of orgasms will ever be enough to forgive his actions. But still. A good railing would have helped.
Maybe he didn’t want to hurt you, a little rational voice says in my head, but I squash her as quickly as she pops up. Nico isn’t that considerate. If he wanted to fuck me, nothing would stop him.
Shit. Was it just a pity orgasm?
Was he sitting in his flat feeling guilty over what happened and thought I could use a good time to make me feel better?
“Arsehole,” I hiss, gripping my toothbrush a little harsher than necessary.
