Chapter 26 Alessio
ALESSIO
Nina’s room is black as pitch when we hit the mattress.
Shame, because fuck, I like looking at her.
But maybe it’s better this way. When you can’t see, everything else gets amplified.
Her fingers skate over my pecs, nails grazing just enough to raise goosebumps.
Every soft sound she makes fills the dark room, small gasps echoing like secrets only I get to hear.
It’s intoxicating.
I slide my hand beneath her nightgown, find her panties, and drag them slowly down her long legs. She shivers, her skin pebbling under my palm, every muscle tensing like she’s strung on a wire.
I press a finger into her slick heat, the wet clench of her body gripping me tight.
She tenses, fluttering around me, thighs quivering against my wrist. When she’s trembling on the edge, I pull back and watch her gasp for air.
Then I bring my finger to my mouth and taste her.
Sweet and dangerous, like the woman herself.
“Christ, you taste like sin,” I mutter, half laughing, half wrecked.
The nightgown rides up as I settle between her thighs. The condom snaps into place and I press forward, sliding into her inch by inch. She stretches around me, greedy and unrelenting, like she wants to brand me from the inside out.
“I love this pussy, Temptress,” I growl, rocking into her. The drag of her slick walls grips me on every stroke, her breathy whimpers vibrating against my mouth. She muffles a cry, trying to be quiet. God, that’s even hotter—the effort she makes to hold back when she can’t.
I kiss her while I fuck her slow. Not my usual style. I’ve always been a rough, furious bastard in bed. Get them off, get myself off, done.
But with Nina? This is different. Deeper. Like I’m not just fucking her body, I’m reaching for something I shouldn’t want.
Emotion. Yeah, I don’t bring that into sex. Ever. But with her? The feelings creep in anyway.
I shove it aside and slide a hand between us, rubbing her clit. She jolts, gasping as her cunt strangles me, every pulse squeezing tighter. Her nails rake down my biceps, leaving stinging trails, and her whole body bows like she’s about to snap.
“That’s it,” I whisper against her ear. “Come for me.”
Her cry vibrates against my ear as she pulses and clamps, dragging me straight over the edge. I empty into the condom with a guttural groan, grinding deeper until the last tremor wrings us both dry.
When it’s over, she strokes my arms, soft and lingering. More intimate than the sex itself. Normally, I’d pull away from that kind of touch—too close, too much. But tonight, I let her. Just this once.
I toss the condom, stretch out beside her. She keeps running her hands over me, like she can’t stop touching. It feels… good. Feels like being wanted, not just taken.
For the first time in a long time, I fall asleep content.
Morning light slices through the blinds in neat lines across the floor. Nina’s still pressed against me, her breath warm on my shoulder, one arm thrown across my torso like she’s claiming me even in sleep.
I should leave. I’ve got shit to do. Calls to make, security to arrange, a whole criminal enterprise that won’t run itself.
Normally, I’d be out of bed by now, reaching for my gun before my phone. But I can’t seem to move. Not with her tucked against me like I’m the safest place she’s ever been.
So I stay put, running my fingers through her dark hair and trying not to think about how right this feels.
Her bedroom is exactly what I expected. Practical, clean, nothing fancy except for a few drawings tacked to the wall that look like Austin’s work.
Superheroes rendered in crayon with more enthusiasm than skill.
I bet his room is a disaster zone of toys and color, everything Nina denies herself so he can have whatever he wants.
But there are other drawings too. More sophisticated ones mixed in with Austin's crayon masterpieces. The lines are confident, the shading deliberate. Adult work.
Nina’s?
They're good. Really good. Detailed sketches of faces, hands, even a few landscapes that look like they could be somewhere around Vegas.
I didn’t know she could draw.
There's something about discovering this hidden talent that knocks me off balance. Like I'm seeing a piece of her she keeps buried under all the practicality and survival. The woman who creates art but hangs it next to her kid's crayon scribbles like they're equally precious.
I trail my fingers through her hair, a mindless rhythm I could keep up for hours. She shifts against me, warm skin and soft curves, still wrapped in that cotton nightgown. Part of me wants to peel it off, see how the morning sun paints her skin gold.
When she finally opens her eyes and smiles up at me—not her work smile or her defensive smile, but something real and unguarded—a dangerous thought hits me: I could get used to this.
Fuck.
Where the hell did that come from? I don’t do morning-afters. I sure as shit don’t do relationships. The familiar itch to bolt should be screaming at me right now, but it’s barely a whisper under the weight of whatever this is with Nina.
The woman’s turning me into someone I don’t recognize. Domesticating me by stealth.
Fine. I’ll deal with it. We’re about to be spending most waking moments together anyway. Whatever it takes to keep her and Austin safe, that’s what’s happening.
“Morning,” she rasps, stretching like a cat.
I’m already half-hard just from watching her move, but I force myself out of bed before I do something stupid like suggest round two with our kid in the next room.
“Sleep okay?” I ask, pulling on my pants.
Her eyes track over my bare chest with enough heat to make me reconsider my noble intentions. “Better than okay.”
She’s twisting her hands in the sheets, nervous energy radiating from her, and I hate that I might be the cause. I grab my shirt from the floor and pull it on before sitting beside her on the bed.
“Best night’s sleep I’ve had in years.” It’s not bullshit. After we had sex, I went under like someone had drugged me. Deep, dreamless sleep that left me feeling almost human this morning.
I kiss her, trying to put everything I can’t say into it. That she’s changing me. That I’m equally terrified and exhilarated. That I want to wake up like this every day, which is insane because I’ve never wanted that with anyone.
She pulls me back down, and I settle over her, caught between wanting more and knowing we need to have a conversation that can’t wait. Yet she’s looking at me with so much warmth, I feel it everywhere.
Yeah, I could definitely get used to mornings like this.
Which reminds me why I stayed last night in the first place.
“You need to pack.” I sound like a bossy asshole, but this is important. “You and Austin. Today.”
She blinks. “What?”
“You’re moving in with me. It’s the only way I can guarantee you’re both safe.”
“Are you insane?”
Probably. “I told you last night my world is dangerous. How the hell else am I supposed to protect you?”
“You can’t just decide that for us.”
“I’m not deciding for you. I’m telling you what needs to happen.”
She sits up, pulling the sheet around herself. “There’s a difference between keeping us safe and taking over our lives, Alessio.”
Her face has that stubborn set to it that I’m starting to recognize. Chin lifted, jaw tight, ready to fight me.
I need her to understand this isn’t about control. It’s about survival. “My mother was kidnapped when she was seven.” I don’t usually talk about this shit. “They wanted leverage against my grandfather.”
“Jesus. That’s horrible.”
“She doesn’t talk about what they did to her, but I know it was bad.”
Nina looks like she might be sick.
“That’s reality. My reality. Austin’s reality now.” I hate scaring her, but she needs to understand. “I can’t protect you if you’re not with me.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, and I can see her working through it. The danger versus her independence. Her home versus her son’s safety.
“This is happening so fast,” she says finally.
“I know it is.” I stroke her cheek, feeling some of the tension leave her. “But we don’t have the luxury of taking it slow.”
“Okay,” she finally whispers. “We’ll move in. Temporarily.”
Temporarily my ass, but I’m not stupid enough to push that point right now.
“But I need ground rules,” she continues. “Austin’s routine doesn’t change. His school, his friends, the rest of his normal life stays normal.”
I nod. “Done. I’m not here to disrupt his life. Just to keep him safe.”
“What about us?” she asks. “This casual thing—”
“Isn’t casual anymore.” I cut her off. “Hasn’t been for a while, if I’m being honest.”
“So what are you saying?”
I take a breath. This is harder than facing down armed Russians.
“I’m saying I want to try. The whole thing.
” I’ve just handed her the power to destroy me, and somehow that feels exactly right.
“Relationship, father, whatever you want to call it. I can’t promise I’ll be good at it.
I can’t promise I won’t fuck it up. But you’re under my skin, Nina.
Have been since that first night. And it’s not about Austin.
I felt this way before I knew he existed. ”
“I feel it too,” she admits. “But I need you to be patient. My ex did a number on me. Trust doesn’t come easy.”
“Then we’re perfect for each other. You don’t trust, and I don’t commit.” I kiss her again, quick and light. “A couple of emotional disasters trying to make it work.”
She laughs, and I lean in for another kiss, this one deeper. My hand finds her bare thigh beneath the nightgown, and suddenly I need more.
I’m sliding my hand higher, already forgetting my whole plan to keep this morning PG-rated, when the bedroom door flies open.
I shift automatically, shielding Nina. Only to find the interruption is a hell of a lot smaller than I expected.