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Her insides were still molten from the orgasm she’d had in the ocean. She had never climaxed like that before—so easily, so quickly. With Davide—and on the occasions when she’d experimented by herself—she’d needed a lot more stimulation. But Nico had brought her to her peak with such little effort it had been almost embarrassing.
She stared at him now, unashamedly, her gaze trailing the length of his powerful body as he lay on his side, stretched out beside her. His arousal was just as proud and fierce as it had been in the water, when she’d wanted so desperately to touch him, and it nudged her hip now, so thick and long she wondered a little nervously if she’d be able to accommodate him.
He drew a fingertip over her belly. ‘Comfortable?’
Frustration spiralled. She was comfortable, lying on her back, one arm thrown above her head, soft pillows plumped under her shoulders for support. But she didn’t want to feel comfortable. She didn’t want Nico to be solicitous—to treat her like a china doll that might break in two if he was too rough with her. She wanted to feel hot and sweaty and breathless. Wanted to feel his weight on top of her, crushing her into the bed as he drove into the hollow place inside her begging to be filled.
His fingertip traced around her belly button and then her nipples, trailing circles of fire over her skin.
‘Is there anything I should know?’ he said, his voice rough—as though he wasn’t quite as in control of himself as he appeared. ‘Anything I can do to make it better for you?’
Her thoughts veered towards the tiny niggle of nervous concern at the back of her mind. Heat surged into her face, and his eyes narrowed.
He gripped her chin. ‘What?’.
She swallowed. ‘I used to sometimes have issues with—’ she closed her eyes, her cheeks burning like hotplates ‘—with lubrication.’
Silence followed. She cracked her eyes open, expecting to see an awkward look—maybe even disappointment—on Nico’s face. Instead his blue eyes glittered with something like...determination. As if she had tossed down a gauntlet and he was accepting the challenge. Slowly he rose to his hands and knees.
‘Are you worried I won’t be able to make you wet for me, chérie?’
Her eyes widened. ‘No! It’s not that... It’s just—’
Her eyes grew rounder still as he straddled her, placed his large hands on her skinny thighs and spread them apart.
When he dropped to his stomach, his intent obvious, she babbled again. ‘It’s not you... It’s just that... My body—oh!’
Suddenly his mouth was on her—there—and the powerful jolt of sensation forced her head back onto the pillow. She caught her breath, clawed her fingers into the sheet beneath her. His mouth was so hot, and his tongue...
Santo cielo!
His tongue was running over and over the spot where her nerve-endings were still very much intact. And then his finger was gently seeking entry, stroking, massaging, sliding deep into...wetness. She felt the sweet burn within, the build-up of tension that teased with the promise of a shattering release. Moments later the pressure reached its zenith and she cried out, silence impossible as she split into shards of white light that beamed her skywards and kept her suspended there for a weightless, timeless moment before casting her back to earth.
The bed moved, and she forced open heavy eyelids. Nico was braced above her, his gaze hot. Satisfied.
‘It’s wet down there, ma petite sirène.’ He kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, letting her taste herself. ‘Very wet,’ he added, and reached over to the nightstand for a condom.
Soon he was sheathed, poised between her legs. He slid his mouth over hers, kissing her long and deep. He lifted his head, his expression as he stared down at her stark. Intense.
‘I can’t hold back,’ he warned, his voice ragged. ‘I can’t be gentle with you.’
She thrilled to those words. She didn’t want gentle—she wanted wild. Passionate. She scraped her fingernails down his back and dug them into his firm buttocks.
‘Don’t be,’ she said boldly.
And then he pushed inside her and her mouth slackened on a gasp of pleasure. In one long, powerful thrust he filled her up, and when he started to move, sliding out and thrusting in, again and again, she had no trouble feeling him.
She knew a moment’s regret because she couldn’t wrap her legs around him, couldn’t flex her hips to meet his powerful thrusts. But Nico didn
’t seem to care; when she looked at him she saw only lust and fierce pleasure carved into his stark features.
He went taut above her, and a second later he shuddered and groaned, signalling his release, and then he was collapsing onto her, pressing his face into her neck.
Marietta wrapped her arms around him and smiled to herself. The weight of his body crushing her into the mattress was, she decided, the most delicious feeling in the world.
* * *
Nico awoke from an unusually dreamless sleep, and as he hovered in that place between oblivion and wakefulness he was aware of an unfamiliar sense of...contentment.
