• 27
??
Jealousy, on her pretty little face?
Sexy as fuck.
She stood there in that little purple dress acting like she had any idea what she did to me. She didn't. She had no clue. I could barely breathe, barely think, and the worst part was that she didn't even try to torture me on purpose. She just existed, and every part of me wanted her.
She was pressed against my wall, looking up at me with those wide brown eyes like she trusted me with her heart, her body, her innocence. She shouldn't. She really shouldn't. But she did.
And God help me, I wanted to take advantage of every second she gave me before she realized how dangerous I was.
Her voice was still in my head, trembling and soft, asking why I didn't tell her I had a girlfriend. As if I could ever look at another woman when she existed on the same planet.
As if Eirene meant anything more than a business transaction. As if Daria didn't already own me, blindfolded, chained, and begging.
I stepped closer, slow, the way a starving man walks toward food. I could feel her panic, but not the scared kind. The kind where she didn't know which one of us was about to break first.
Her back hit the wall. Mine hit the last sliver of self-control I had.
I could smell the warmth of her skin, the sweetness of her lip gloss, and the soft scent of her shampoo. It wrapped around me, dragged me in, and I didn't fight it.
She didn't understand what she did to me.
"What... what do you mean 'do to you'?" she whispered, innocent like she didn't even realize her own power.
"Did you wear that dress for me?"
"N-No."
"Then who did you wear it for?"
"I—I..."
Her breath shook, her eyes flicking between mine and my mouth like she was already imagining it. Then she looked away, flustered, like she knew she shouldn't.
I moved my hand from the wall to her throat.
Just enough pressure to tilt her head the way I wanted.
She gasped, quiet and soft, a sound she tried to swallow but couldn't.
That sound alone nearly tore a groan out of me.
"Daria," I murmured, leaning in so close my breath brushed her lips, "if you stay right here... I'm not stopping."
She swallowed, chest rising too fast.
Her fingers curled against the wall.
"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered.
And my control snapped.
I kissed her soft pretty lips.
"You have no idea," I growled against her mouth, "how badly I want to ruin you."
She froze, lips parted in shock, no voice left.
My hand slid down her waist, gripping her hip, pulling her flush against me. She gasped when she felt how hard I was.
Her knees buckled.
I caught her easily.
I kissed her again, harder, punishing, all the words I refused to say pouring out of me. She moaned into my mouth, her fingers grabbing at my shoulders, pulling me closer like she needed more.
I lifted her by the thighs and she wrapped around me instantly. Her back hit the wall, my hips pressing into hers as she let out another soft, helpless sound that drove me insane.
"Are you scared of me?" I growled against her neck, biting just enough to make her gasp.
"I'm n-not scared of you," she whispered.
I pulled back and stared her dead in the eyes.
"You should be."
She shivered, breath caught in her throat.
I carried her to the nearest surface, the table behind us—and set her down gently, even though every cell in my body wanted to devour her right there.
"What do you want?" I asked, voice low, eyes locked on her.
"You."
One word.
It damn near knocked the air out of me.
"Daria," I said, voice low, "if we keep going... I'm not letting you pretend this meant nothing tomorrow."
She looked at me, flushed, breathless, lips swollen, and whispered,"It already means something."
My last thread of restraint snapped clean in half.
I kissed her again, slow and hungry, and the lights of Manhattan blurred behind us as I pulled her closer, her arms around my neck, her heartbeat pressed against my chest.
I honestly wanted to fuck her. If only she knew. Claim her. Break every rule I lived by for her. But she deserved more than me losing my mind in the dark like this. There were things she deserved to know before she was truly mine.
Fucking her would have been for me.
But there were other ways to please her.
"Take off your dress," I said pulling back.
She blinked. "You can't just—"
My voice dropped to a whisper that vibrated through her entire body:
"Don't test me, Daria."
Her breath shook. Slowly, she lifted the hem of her dress, sliding it over her head. She sat there in nothing but black lace and nerves.
Christ.
She was fucking beautiful. Perfect.
"Spread your legs."
She did.
"Good girl."
Her breath hitched, and I felt a smirk pull at my mouth.
"I hear your heartbeat," I murmured, fingers trailing down her stomach. "Fast... scared... turned on."
She shivered under my touch.
"Tell me what you want me to do," I whispered, letting my fingers slip over the lace between her legs. "Say it."
Her hips lifted instinctively. God, she was already wet. I was losing my mind.
"Nico..." she gasped, "please."
"Please what?"
"Please fuck me."
I tore the lace aside with one hand, the sound making her moan. Seeing her like this. My cock hard in my pants. There's nothing more I wanted. Resisting her is impossible, fuck.
People say I'm not patient. They're wrong. I've been patient for her. That's the only patience I'll ever have.
I licked my fingers and smirked at how her eyes dilated.
I've never seen this side of Daria, I needed more.
I slid my fingers inside her, slow at first, just to watch her fall apart. When she grabbed my wrist, trying to push for more, I smirked.
Fuck.
"Look at you," I murmured. "You want more, baby?"
She nodded. I curled my fingers. She cried out, arching into me.
When her breath started to break, I pressed my lips to her ear. I leaned in just enough for her to feel my breath. Close enough that her body reacted.
"You're mine tonight," I growled. "All of you. Every sound. Every shake. Every orgasm."
She whimpered. "Nico—"
I kissed her, swallowing her soft moans as I worked her harder, deeper, faster. Her lips made an 'O' shape, and she clenched on my fingers. She was so tight, yet so wet. Her breath broke, her hands reached for me, her whole body shaking.
"You're so wet. That's it baby, " I whispered, watching her unravel beautifully. "Come for me."
And she did.
She shattered in my hands—back arched, thighs trembling, breath breaking on my name. Over and over. Soft, ruined, perfect.
I watched every second.
Memorized it, because this was mine. She was mine.
When she finally slumped against me, breathless and trembling, I kissed her forehead. Softly. Something I'd never done for anyone.
She was the one girl I'd never hurt. Never betray.
Never let go.
If she accepts me for what I am, a man made to kill, willing to worship only her... then she's mine.
And I'd rather die than lose her.
Guys I created an instagram. @Netty.Hart Who will be my first follower????? Don't let me flop pls