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"I'm serious, Nico." Sybil meets my eye again, but hers quickly drop to my mouth. Her tongue swipes over her lower lip, and she shakes her head. "I feel like I'm messed up to even consider this."
Dark excitement makes me smile. "But youareconsidering it." Unable to resist, I lean down and explore her cheek, then her jaw, with my lips. I taste the skin of her neck. So fucking delicious. The appetizer to the perfect meal. "Being messed up is the most fun," I add.
"You would know," she laughs, but her breathing is hitched. I wonder if she realizes one of her hands has pressed itself against my stomach, tracing the muscles there.
"You know, too."
She exhales sharply when I kiss her ear, twisting my fingers in her hair. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not messed up. I'm always the…the good twin."
That makes me laugh. Is that how she sees herself? A stereotype? I nip her neck, and she whimpers. "No. Everything about you looks like an angel, but I remember how you fuck."
"God. Stop talking."
"No," I whisper. "You fuck like a woman who hides her dark side, Sybil. It undid me. You're not a good girl. Not in bed. You're broken, and you hide it, and you don't know what that does to a man like me."
Her hand clenches the fabric of my shirt, yanking it to raise herself higher. Her eyes are raw anger and emotion, her whisper fierce and furious. "I said stop talking."
Then her lips are on mine, and I stop trying to maintain control. We're both matches, both fuses—and right now, I don't care if we burn the world to ash.
I push her back against the wall, relishing the feel of her soft curves against me. Her hands claw at the buttons of my shirt, but I'm too busy ripping hers over her head. Her bra goes next. I take one nipple in my mouth, growling in approval when she gasps and arches against me.
She grips my face and forces me to look back at her, chest rising and falling angrily. "Take it back."
I kiss her again. Her taste has haunted me for too long. I pull back enough to smile down at her. "No."
"Take it fucking back," Sybil snaps, finally managing to unbutton my shirt. Her hands are on my belt, and she presses against me again.
Every word from her mouth is angry and heated, but not as heated as her lips on my skin. I pull her away from the wall so we can stumble into the room, lips locked until I push her onto the bed. She doesn't let go of me, though, tugging me down with her and moaning as my lips travel over her throat, back down to her heaving breasts.
I nip her, laughing when she curses at me and twists her fingers in my hair almost enough to hurt. What a spitfire. My very ownpericolosa tentatrice. I kick off the rest of my clothes, yanking off her pants and kissing down her stomach.
She catches her breath again when I hook them and pull them aside, finally tasting her.
"Dolce," I growl. I lick again and meet her lust-filled gaze as I slide back over her, kissing every inch of skin I can. "Better than I remember."
She shoves against me, but her hips are rolling against mine at the same time. "You never took it back. I'm still waiting."
"I won't keep you in suspense much longer," I chuckle, gritting my teeth as her body grinds against my cock again.
Sybil captures my lips again, her hands dancing over my chest and arms, leaving fire in their wake. She tugs down on my neck insistently, trying to bring my body fully against hers, scowling when I resist and kiss along her neck instead.
It can't be helped. I want to take my time—to savor each pant and breathy moan. I want to make Sybil suffer with need the way I have every time I've thought about her since that day.
But her perfect body, flushed with heat, is making self-restraint impossible. I take Sybil's cheek in one hand, forcing her to look at me as I thrust into her. We moan together at the sensation. Her fingernails bite into my back as I give in and fuck her the way I've imagined for years.
Chapter 7
Sybil
If I made a list of how Nico has changed over the last four years, this would be at the top.
Four years ago, we had the most intense sex of my life. I'd been shocked at his ability to know exactly how to touch me to make me come apart, but he had been very thoughtful and considerate. Very worried about crossing any lines. It had been incredibly sweet and sensual but somehow pure—until I'd been the one to kick things up a notch.
What can I say? I wanted to be bad, for once.
This is different. It's still beyond intense—and if anything, Nico somehow knows even better just the right way to make me come apart.
But the way we fuck each other now is anything but sweet. I'm pulling him closer even though it deepens the stretch of my legs, which he has over his shoulders now as he thrusts into me. We're kissing, but there's nothing pure about it. It's savage. Needy. He's holding nothing back, and it doesn't take long until I'm pushed into the strongest orgasm I've ever had, bar none.
