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One second I was standing in front of him, trying to understand why he looked at me like I'd just confessed the secret to the universe.
The next second?
I was in his lap.
On. His. Lap.
My thighs were open around his, my hands pressed against his chest for balance, and Nico Costa was staring up at me like I was something he wanted to unwrap with his teeth. Somehow I liked it.
"I—Nico—this is—"
My voice cracked embarrassingly.
His big hands tightened on my hips, warm and firm.
"Shh," he said quietly, breath brushing my ear. "Don't overthink."
Impossible. Overthinking was my entire personality.
Especially when I was sitting on an extremely hard, extremely obvious problem in his sweatpants. My heartbeat was so loud it felt like it was echoing inside my skull.
His fingers slipped a little lower on my waist, guiding me just enough that my breath caught. He noticed. Of course he did. He was watching me like he was studying reactions he planned to use later.
"Comfortable?" he asked softly.
"No," I whispered instantly.
A slow smirk pulled at his mouth.
"Good."
My fingers dug into his shoulders even though I wasn't trying to. His skin was warm under my palms, and his tattoos teased the edges of my vision. Being this close felt like inhaling him.
He leaned back slightly, eyes dragging over my face as if memorizing every flicker of expression.
"You're staring," I whispered.
"Relax, Daria. I'm not going to do anything."
That was a lie. A beautiful, devastating lie.
Because sitting on him like this? Already something. My skirt had slipped higher, and I could feel the thick outline of him pressing against my panties.
"I just want you close," he murmured softly, lifting my hand and pressing a gentle kiss into my palm.
My stomach flipped violently.
I shifted without thinking. His grip tightened instantly, his jaw clenching like he was surviving something physical.
"Careful," he said, voice dropping to something dark and warning. "Don't move unless you want me to forget every promise I made two minutes ago."
I froze. Absolutely still.
He let out a soft, sinful chuckle.
"Good girl."
Heat shot through me. He moved his hips just enough that the friction brushed at my core, and I nearly moaned but bit my lip just in time.
He brushed a strand of hair from my cheek, gentle in a way that didn't match the hunger in his eyes.
"You don't understand," he whispered. "If I take you now... I won't stop. You know that, right?"
I nodded, breath shaking. "I know."
"And you still came here?" he asked quietly.
"I... couldn't stay away."
Something darkened in him. Something dangerous and vulnerable all at once.
"Yeah," he murmured. "That's what scares me."
Being in his lap, feeling his breath on my neck, feeling him hard beneath me... I wasn't sure my heart belonged to me anymore.
"I think I'm in trouble," I whispered before I realized the words were out.
His thumb stroked the inside of my thigh, slow and deliberate.
"No," he said softly, pulling me closer. "You're not in trouble."
He pressed a kiss beneath my ear, barely a brush, and my entire body lit up.
"I am trouble, Daria."
I instinctively rocked my hips forward. A soft moan slipped out before I could catch it.
He lifted his head. His pupils blown. His breath uneven. I realized what I'd done.
"Does that feel good, baby?" he asked.
"Yes," I whispered, cheeks burning.
His hands slid to my hips, gripping firmly as he guided me back and forth over him. The friction was dizzying, sharp and sweet all at once. I moaned softly , unable to help it.
He let out a deep, feral sound from his throat that made my body clench. I pushed my hips back and forth slower this time on my own. He just stared at me, my face, my lips.
I grabbed his shoulders, rocking harder, need taking over sense. I could feel him growing even harder beneath me, the pressure intoxicating.
"Fuck." He groaned out through clenched teeth.
He cupped my ass with both hands, pulling me tighter against him. His bulge put pressure on my core, causing pleasure all over my body. The sensation caused me to moan, louder.
"Mmm.."
"That's it," he said against my neck, voice low and rough. "Let me hear you."
He pulled my hair gently, exposing more of my neck for him to kiss, lick, taste. My moans slipped out softly, uncontrollably, lips parting.
"Nico..."
My legs started trembling. The pleasure built faster than I could understand, sharp and overwhelming.
I rocked harder, desperate, breath breaking in my chest.
A shudder tore through me as the org asm hit, sudden and consuming. I came undone right there in his lap, panties soaked, body trembling as he held me through every second of it.
I did not remember how I was breathing.
I did not remember my name.
All I remembered was the feeling of her coming apart in my lap.
Daria. My girl.
Shaking, trembling, moaning my name.
I sat there with her in my arms, her breath warm against my neck, her thighs still trembling around me, and for the first time in my life I understood the meaning of the word need.
I wanted to rip the entire world apart.
I wanted to take her to my bed and ruin any memory she had of existing without me.
I wanted to drag every man who had ever looked at her outside and break their fingers one by one.
She had no idea what she had done to me. No fucking idea.
She sat there in my lap, her cheek pressed against my shoulder, her breath still uneven from the org asm she spilled on my thigh, and whispered, "Nico... I'm sorry."
Sorry?
If I had even half the strength I pretended to have, I would have laughed.
Instead, I tightened my grip on her hips because if I let her go, I was not sure what I would do.
"Sorry for what?" I asked, though my voice was too deep to be considered human.
"For... that," she whispered.
That.
The sound she made, her sexy climax.
The way she broke on top of me. But then she shifted again. Just the tiniest movement, enough for her soaked panties to drag across my lap.
I groaned just thinking about it. She never has to say sorry for that.
I live to please her.
My hand slid to her waist, not gently this time, and I lifted her off me in one smooth motion. She let out a small gasp as I turned her around and laid her across the couch, her knees sinking into the cushion as I guided her forward with a grip that bordered on desperate.
"Nico..." she whispered.
Her voice almost stopped me. I looked up, and she met my eyes, watching me with approval, her hand still in mine.
I pulled her hips forward, slow and deliberate, letting my fingers trail the inside of her thighs. They trembled under my touch. She was still warm. Still wet. Still soft from the org asm she'd spilled onto me.
"You have no idea," I murmured against her skin, "how long I've wanted to taste you."
Her breath hitched. That was it. The last thread of restraint snapped clean.
I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her thong and slid them down her thighs. Her center glistened in the low light, pink and sensitive, so pretty it made my vision blur.
I kissed the inside of her knee first, then her calf, and the soft skin of her inner thigh.
She shivered under me, soft moans slipping out her lips.
My hands parted her gently, reverent and starving all at once. I lowered my head, breathing her in, letting her scent coat my tongue before I even put my mouth on her.
"Hold onto something," I said.
She grabbed my hair instantly and I groaned against her, gripping her hips harder and pulling her closer.
I dragged my tongue up the length of her slit, to her swollen center.
She melted under me, trembling, breathless, whispering my name. I flicked her lightly and she moaned, trying to close her legs. I kept them parted easily; she was too sensitive from her last org asm.
"Say you're mine," I whispered, kissing her juices on her inner thigh. I could taste her forever. I slipped a finger and curled it making her hips buck toward me.
"I—I'm yours."
A rough groan vibrated in my chest.
I slid my tongue inside her, tasting every soft, sweet inch until she was shaking again. Her hips jerked again. Her hands fisted my hair. She moaned louder, the kind of sound that could ruin a man for life.
"Don't stop... Nico... right there—"
I watched her come undone on my tongue, she arched, gasping out loud. She cried out my name, her wetness coating my tongue.
She tasted like pure bliss.
She tasted like she was mine.
She collapsed onto the couch, breath uneven, body weak.
I stood and lifted her easily, placing her back in my lap. She felt small and perfect against me, soft from release, her cheek pressed to my shoulder.
"Breathe, baby. I've got you," I murmured, rubbing her back as she caught her breath. Her warm exhale hit my neck in shaky waves.
"...kiss me again," she whispered, pleadingly.
Like I would ever refuse her.
I leaned in until her lips hovered under mine.
"My pleasure."
I kissed her slowly, deeply, tasting her sweetness on both our mouths.
And in the quiet, dangerous space between us, one thought echoed louder than my pulse:
I will end anyone who tries to take her from me.
I casually wrote this chapter in my kitchen with people .... with a straight face. I dont know how I do it. hehe