Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
Nico
Alex closes the hotel room door behind us, and with the solid click, much of the tension I’ve been holding all day seeps away. His arms slip around my midsection, and I let myself melt back into him for support.
I’m exhausted. Maybe even more exhausted than I was earlier after I got back from my interview with Vera. The hour-long nap I had wasn’t nearly enough, although at the same time, I’m not sure if I could fall asleep right now.
There are too many things still floating around in my brain.
Half a worry that I’m not actually going to get offered the job after all.
More worry that I won’t be cut out for it.
Uncertainty about the revised budget we put together over dinner, even though it looked solid and showed that I should have a good buffer every month.
It’s normal to be worried about things. Alex told me his mom’s always reminding him about that.
And I’m sure it is. I’m sure she’s right.
But it’s hard to get everything to quiet down, especially with how tired I am from the whole day of having to manage my anxiety in a new place, meeting new people, talking and being engaged.
I turn around in Alex’s arms and lean against his chest. “Hold me?” I ask.
He chuckles and kisses my forehead. “I am holding you.”
I groan and push away from him, starting over toward the bed. When I reach the edge, I let myself fall face-first onto the mattress, breathing out a long sigh. He flops down on his back next to me, and I turn my head to look at him.
He’s grinning—a gorgeous smile that’s somehow also soft and kind and understanding.
The feeling washes over me with warmth and love, and some of those voices of worry and uncertainty go quiet in my head.
I scoot over on the bed until I’m lying partly on top of him, one knee hiked up over his thighs.
Then I kiss him, his lips pliant and warm and willing.
His hands roam, too, but gently and slowly, inching under my shirt to run along my lower back and then smoothing up to my shoulder blades and down again. It’s soft, like his kisses—like he’s trying to soothe me with his touch and tell me he loves me at the same time.
And it’s arousing as hell.
“Mmm, Nico . . .” He tugs on the hem of my shirt. “Take this off.”
“Only if you say please,” I taunt, slipping my own hands up under his shirt too. I shift my leg over him, hooking my foot around his thigh, and he groans, screws his eyes shut, and presses his head back into the bed as his hard length throbs against me.
The next thing I know, I’m on my back underneath him, and he’s tossing my shirt off to the side. His lips close over one of my nipples, and he sucks. Hard.
“Oh, fuck me,” I hiss, gripping the blanket as a jolt of arousal rushes straight to my cock. He lifts his eyes to look at me, his expression teasing as he continues to pleasure me with his mouth and tongue. I laugh and roll my eyes. “That wasn’t an invitation.”
“Are you sure?” he asks, pulling away so his lips hover just above my skin.
Before I can respond, he dips back in, taunting and teasing me with his lips and teeth and tongue, and I close my eyes and moan his name.
His hands slip down between my legs and hook under my thighs, then he settles between my knees and brings my legs up a bit, running his fingers along my inner thighs.
He teases me, his touch burning, scorching. God, it’s fucking good.
“Clothes off,” I say, but then I tug him back up to me and capture his mouth again in another kiss that starts off soft but builds fast to something much more intense.
He breaks away from me only long enough to rip his shirt off over his head, and then he’s back on me, pushing his tongue into my mouth, tasting and exploring, even as he’s still undressing both of us.
As soon as my shorts and briefs are off, he settles back over me, lowering his hips until our cocks meet.
A soft curse escapes his lips, and his body shudders with what I can only imagine is need and arousal. I close my eyes and bend my knees up, bringing him closer to me. He drops his forehead onto my good shoulder, his breath hot against my skin, and his hips jerk forward.
“Touch me,” I beg. My fingers thread through his hair as he flutters kisses on my shoulder and over to my neck.
“Where?”
I’m panting now, my whole body on fire, pleading for more. And I’m not sure how to answer because I’m actually not really sure what I want or where I want him to touch.
Actually, that’s not true. I do know.
“Everywhere.”
“Mmm. Yeah, good,” he murmurs against me, and he doesn’t hesitate at all. He kisses my lips gently and whispers, “I’ll be right back.” Then he disappears for only a few seconds, returning with the bottle of lube and a towel from the bathroom.
He settles back over me, tossing the bottle and towel on the bed next to us, and I reach between us and take his shaft in my hand, stroking him as he moans and curses and says all the little things he never says at any other time, except when we’re in bed together.
He doesn’t let that last long, though, before he takes back control, moving lower, fluttering kisses down my chest.
He’s popped open the bottle of lube before I even register what’s happening. And then he’s stroking my dick, slicking it up. His hand slips lower, and he cups my balls gently before rubbing along my taint and then circling my hole.
Heat courses through me, my cock pulsing. I reach down and stroke myself as I push my head back into the bed with another moan.
“Impatient?” he quips, his slick fingers still teasing the outside of my hole.
“No,” I blurt out. “I . . . just . . . need . . .”
His lips close over mine, and he kisses me slow and deep. Then he pulls back. “What do you need?” he asks, his voice low and raspy.
I open my eyes halfway. His gaze is trained on me, intense and fucking aroused. Sexy as hell. I swallow hard and don’t look away. “You. Inside me,” I say, and as soon as the words are out of my mouth, my face flushes with heat.
He lets out a sharp breath, and he studies me as his tongue peeks out of his mouth to wet his lips. “Are you sure?”
I nod. “Yes.”
I am sure. But I’m also a tiny bit nervous, and I know he can see it in my eyes.
He holds my gaze for another second, and then he leans in and kisses me again, soft and gentle this time, as though reassuring me he’ll take care of me. His fingers circle my hole, and as he slowly pushes one inside, I gasp, a ripple of arousal shooting all the way down into my toes.
I tear my lips away. “Holy fuck, Alex,” I rasp, and then I press my hand into his chest, close my eyes, and moan his name.
“I’ve got you,” he says, his voice a rough whisper.
“Relax and breathe.” His finger pushes deeper, and I try to do what he says, breathing and bearing down.
He lets his lips graze my neck. “There you go,” he says.
“That’s it.” And he starts moving his finger slowly, in and out, stretching me and opening me up with each careful touch.
It’s more than incredible, just like it was a couple of nights ago when we messed around like this for the first time.
Before long, I’m begging him for more—a second finger, and then a third—and I’m panting and clinging to him.
And when he curls his fingers just right, I turn my head and muffle a cry into his hair as a shock of ecstasy races through me.
“There. Fuck, right—yeah, right there,” I stammer, and he hums against me softly before hitting the same spot again and again. “Jesus. Shit. What are you—what are you doing? That’s—fuck.”
He huffs a laugh, turns his head, and captures my lips in a kiss that’s not quite as gentle. Then he sits up, kneeling between my legs, still moving his fingers in and out of my channel. I lift up an arm to cover my eyes as I struggle to keep my breathing steady. My whole body’s tingling now.
He lets his fingers slip out of me and then runs his other hand along my thigh. “I think you’re ready? Maybe?” he says, adding, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
I shift so I can see him, my eyes half-lidded, and I nod and then glance down at his erection. It’s perfectly long and hard and willing, precum leaking from the tip.
Fuck, I want him.
No, I need him.
I lick my lips and nod again, lifting my eyes to meet his. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
His cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink, and he blinks and looks down at the bed, where he put the lube. My heart’s pounding fiercely in my chest—a mix of anticipation and desire. I watch, holding my breath, as he coats his shaft and then wipes his hands on the towel.
From there, everything seems to go in slow motion. Delicious slow motion.
He leans over me, finding my lips, and he kisses me sensually and gently. When he sits back up, both of his hands caress along my inner thighs and back to my knees. He’s looking down at me, smiling, and then he drops his chin and takes a breath.
“I, um, did some reading . . .”
“Reading,” I echo, grinning crookedly at him. “Right.”
He gives me a look, but then he laughs and runs a hand nervously through his hair. “No, seriously. I did. And, uh, anyway, just tell me if it hurts, okay? Or if you don’t like it. Or . . . anything.”
I know where his nervousness comes from, and I’m honestly still nervous, too. Nervous it will hurt, yes, but also worried he won’t like it or I won’t like it or it won’t be good for him or I won’t be good for him.
But I trust him more than anyone else I’ve ever known. And I love him. I reach up with both hands to cup his cheeks, and I tug him down to me for another soft kiss.
When we part, he whispers, “I love you.” And then he smiles gently and kisses me again.
He’s careful and mindful, positioning me so my feet are off the bed, my knees bent up to expose my hole to him even more. Then his hand caresses my calf as he guides the head of his cock to my entrance. I close my eyes and breathe in deeply, and when I exhale, he starts to push into me.