19. Jazz
19
JAZZ
I pace the living room, my phone clutched in my hand. No messages. No calls. Nothing. Not since he told me to wait up. The city lights twinkle through the floor-to-ceiling windows, but even they're starting to fade as dawn creeps over the horizon.
The distinct click of the front door makes me freeze. My heart pounds as footsteps echo through the penthouse. Heavy. Deliberate. The guest shower cuts on, water drumming against tile.
I grab the crystal paperweight from the side table - solid, heavy, deadly if needed. The cold weight settles in my palm as I creep down the hallway toward the bathroom. Steam curls under the door.
My fingers tremble on the handle. I push it open, weapon raised.
"Jesus Christ." The paperweight clatters to the floor.
Blood. So much blood. It streaks the white tile, swirls pink down the drain. Nerio stands under the spray, his white shirt soaked crimson, clinging to his shoulders. Dark spatters mark his face, his neck, matting his hair.
"Close the door." His voice is gravel-rough. He doesn't even turn to look at me.
I step closer, scanning for wounds. "Nerio-"
He yanks off the ruined shirt, tosses it in a wet heap on the floor. "Go back to bed, little dove."
I grab a towel from the rack. "I thought you wanted me to stay up for you."
"Didn't realize I'd be out this late." The water runs red around his feet.
"Are you…" I swallow back the wave of emotion hitting me. I knew what he was out there doing, but I didn't expect to feel so…worried. "Are you okay?"
The water sluices over his muscles as he turns. My breath catches - not from the sight of his bare chest, which I've seen before, but from the dark marks scattered across his skin. Are those bruises? Cuts?
"Fuck." My hands shake as I step closer to the shower. "Where are you hurt?"
"Jazz-" He holds up his hands, palms out.
I don't let him finish. The fear churning in my gut propels me forward. My clothes soak through instantly as I crash against him, crushing my mouth to his. His lips part in surprise and I taste copper, mint, whiskey. My fingers trace desperately over his chest, his sides, searching for wounds.
He growls against my mouth, backing me into the tile wall. Water streams down my face, between our bodies. His hands grip my waist, pinning me in place.
"I thought-" I break away, gasping. "When you were gone so long, then all this blood-"
"Not mine." He catches my chin, forces me to meet his steel-gray eyes. "Look at me. I'm fine."
"I was scared." The admission slips out before I can stop it.
His expression darkens. He crashes his mouth back to mine, hungry and demanding. I arch into him, relief and desire tangling together as his hands slide under my soaked shirt.
"Didn't mean to worry you, little dove." His teeth graze my bottom lip. "But I like seeing you care."
"Of course I care," I whimper against his mouth. Water streams between us, soothing my skin as I let my emotions wash over me. "You think I don't sit here wondering if you're bleeding out somewhere in the city?"
His mouth claims mine again, harder this time. Demanding. Possessive. I melt into him, fingers sliding into his wet hair as he devours me. The wall is cold against my back but his body burns hot against mine, all hard muscle and raw need.
"Strip." His command vibrates against my throat as he trails bites down my neck.
I yank my soaked shirt over my head, letting it fall with a wet slap. His hands slide under the waistband of my shorts, dragging them down my legs. Each touch sets my skin on fire.
His mouth follows the path of the water droplets down my collarbone, across my breasts. "So beautiful when you worry about me."
The realization hits me like lightning — I don't care about the blood on his hands or the violence that follows him like a shadow. I only care that he comes back to me whole.
The thought should terrify me. I shouldn't want to be around someone who is so…bad. But instead it just feels right. Nerio does what he has to, and I won't condemn that if it keeps us both safe.
"I'll always return to you, little dove." His words ghost across my stomach as he drops to his knees, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my hip bone. "Nothing could keep me away."
My head falls back against the tile. "Promise me."
"Look at me." He waits until I meet his gaze, those storm-gray eyes burning with intensity. "I promise. You're mine to protect now. To cherish." His tongue traces patterns on my inner thigh. "To worship."
The need in his voice makes me tremble. I didn't know I needed those words until they spilled from his lips, sinking into my soul like an anchor.
Nerio lifts my legs, draping them over his broad shoulders. His hands grip my thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh. I gasp at the sensation, anticipation coiling in my stomach.
"Look at you," he murmurs, his breath hot against my inner thigh. "So fucking beautiful."
His eyes lock onto mine, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. He's a predator, and I'm his prey. And fuck, do I want to be caught.
"Nerio," I pant, my fingers tangling in his hair. "Please."
"You know I love it when you beg, little dove." His tongue traces a tantalizing path up my thigh, making me shiver. "Tell me what you want."
My chest heaves, heart pounding. I know what he wants to hear. And I'm not too proud to give it to him. Not now. Not when he's so close.
"I want your mouth on me," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the drumming of the shower. "I want you to make me come. You're the only one who can make me come so hard."
A growl rumbles in his chest, vibrating against my skin. His mouth descends, and I cry out as his tongue drags through my folds, hot and insistent. My back arches off the tile, pleasure rocketing through me.
"Fuck, you taste good." His voice is muffled, his breath hot against me.
My hips buck, chasing his mouth. His hands tighten on my thighs, holding me still as he devours me. His tongue swirls around my clit, teasing it before sucking it into his mouth. I whimper, fisting his hair.
"Nerio, fuck," I gasp. "Please. More."
He laughs, low and sinister. "All in good time, Jazz. All in good time."
His tongue slides lower, dipping into me. I moan, my head falling back against the tile. The water cascades over us, steam billowing in the air. My body tenses, the pressure building with each flick of his tongue, each suck of his lips.
"Not yet," he commands, his voice rough. His mouth pulls away, and I whimper at the loss. His eyes are dark, pupils blown as he watches me writhe. "Not until I say so."
His mouth returns, teeth grazing my clit. I cry out, my body shaking. His tongue thrusts into me, mimicking the sex we both crave.
"God, Nerio," I beg. "Please. I can't-"
"Come for me, little dove," he grows. "Come on my face."
His words push me over the edge. My orgasm hits like a rocket, pleasure exploding through me. I scream his name, my body convulsing. His mouth stays on me, tongue stroking, wringing every last bit of pleasure from me.
When the last aftershock fades, he presses a kiss to my inner thigh. His eyes meet mine as he moves up my body, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses.
Once he's standing before me, he takes a small step back, just enough so that I can watch him. Nerio undoes his pants, stripping them off and kicking them away. I watch, entranced, as he takes himself in hand, pumping his length. The sight sends a wave of heat through me.
Thankfully, he doesn't make me wait too long before he closes the distance between us, his mouth crashing onto mine. He's all-consuming, his tongue delving deep, claiming every inch of me.
His hands grip my waist, and he lifts me effortlessly. My legs instinctively wrap around him, locking at the ankles. He pins me against the cold tile wall, his body a hot contrast. The steam fills the room, but the anticipation still has me shaking.
"Even death couldn't keep me away from you, little dove," he growls against my lips. "You never have to worry about me."
I gasp as he presses into me, the sensation stealing my breath. There's no gentleness in his touch, only raw, unbridled need. He thrusts deep, setting a brutal pace that leaves me reeling.
"Nerio," I moan, my fingers digging into his shoulders. The water streams between us, slicking our skin. Every sensation is heightened—the cool tile at my back, the scalding heat of him inside me, the steam enveloping us.
He captures my mouth again, swallowing my gasps. His hips piston against mine, driving deeper with every thrust. "You're mine, Jazz. Every fucking part of you."
His words send a jolt of pleasure through me. I cling to him, my body matching his rhythm. The sound of our flesh meeting echoes through the shower, each slap underscoring the primal nature of our need.
"Nerio," I cry out, my voice catching as pleasure builds. My nails rake down his back, leaving red trails that mingle with the water.
He growls, his teeth grazing my neck. The sting of it sends a shockwave through me, pushing me closer to the edge. "Say it again. Say my name."
"Nerio," I whisper, my voice barely a breath. "Nerio."
He thrusts harder, deeper, his pace relentless. "Louder, little dove."
"Nerio!" I scream, my body convulsing as I shatter around him. Waves of pleasure crash over me, my vision blurring.
He groans, his body tensing as he finds his own release. His teeth clamp down on my shoulder, the pain mingling with the pleasure as we ride out the storm together.
Our breaths mingle, hot and ragged, as we cling to each other. The water runs cooler, the steam dissipating around us. He presses his forehead to mine, his eyes storm-gray and intense.
"You missed me," he whispers, his voice raw.
And even though my heart is begging me not to, I nod. "I did."
A smirk pulls at his lips. "Good." He brushes them over mine so briefly it's almost like it didn't happen. "Because I'm never letting you go."