Chapter 15
NICOLETTE
The water runs like the rain, and knowing he’s under the spray of it has me feeling insanely aware of my own body.
I can’t believe he beat Leo up. He cared enough to do that. We have made a bunch of breakthroughs today. Not only did he beat up my jerkoff ex, but—here’s the big one—he wasn’t in love with my sister! If I could purchase one of those Times Square billboards and announce it to the world, I would.
All this time, I thought he really did love her. Meanwhile, he was with someone he didn’t love only because he was just trying to be a good person. He’s even more perfect than I’ve realized.
I busy myself in the kitchen, tidying up, trying to distract myself from the fact that he’s naked in there right now. Wet and naked and hard in all the right places.
Yep. Here goes that visual. I force myself to think of anything else but that, yet it’s all I’m consumed with.
“Nicolette,” he groans.
Real low and sensual. The sound echoing.
Is he…
No. Of course he isn’t doing that while saying my name.
“Nicolette,” he husks out, deeper this time and a shudder scurries up my spine.
I mean maybe I should go and make sure he’s okay. It’s possible he…uh…hurt himself and is calling me for help. Wouldn’t be nice of me to leave the poor guy hurt in the shower. Naked.
My feet are already moving the short distance, and when I find the door ajar, my heart rate kicks up. His gasping breaths burst out while I still, my back pressed against the wall, right beside the door, unable to move, or breathe or do anything but listen.
“Fuck…” His raspy growls have me clenching my thighs.
Okay, so he’s definitely not hurt. He’s… I can’t even finish the thought.
Should I look and confirm?
I cover my mouth with a palm. No, I can’t do that. It’s a violation of privacy. It’s wrong. It’s dirty.
You’re better than this, Nicolette Ricci.
Am I, though?
“Fuuuck, Nicolette,” he growls on a whisper.
And before I can stop myself, I’m peeking inside, and…
Oh my God… I was right. He’s huge.
My heart ceases to beat, because he’s got a fist around his thick cock, his back and head pressed against the tiles, his eyes closed as he strokes himself.
Is this actually happening right now? And am I actually watching? My clit instantly throbs as I take in the rippling muscles of his arms, his defined six-pack straining as he hurries his tempo.
Water sluices down from his well-toned chest to the V that sharply runs lower. The need to touch myself has taken over.
He strokes roughly, gritting his teeth, cursing under his breath like he’s real close.
“Sei così fottutamente bella,” he grits.
He just called me fucking beautiful.
Oh, God.
His face strains while his hand jerks up and down real fast. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. Raph touching himself. To me.
My core pulsates, and I roll my hips instinctively, the swell of my own desire rising until I can’t take the throbbing any longer.
He fists himself harder, and before I know what I’m doing, I slip my hand into the waistband of my leggings, past the edge of my panties and down to where I’m warm and achy for him.
From the crack in the door, my eyes stay glued to his drenched, tanned body. I’m already wet as two fingers work my clit, watching the man I want touch himself to thoughts of me. The faster he moves, the faster I do too.
He hisses my name on a strangled breath, and as I reach the edge, I let out a moan. A quiet one.
“Nicolette? Is that you?”
Or so I thought.
Shit!
I pull my hand out and stay frozen in place. Maybe if I don’t move, he’ll go back to doing…that.
As seconds fly by, I can’t seem to breathe. Or move. Or do much of anything.
“Nicolette. I know you’re there.”
My face heats up.
“Come on out now. Don’t make me ask again.”
Why does that demanding tone make me grow even more aroused.
My heart slams in my throat. What do I tell him? Sorry I accidentally moaned while watching you jerk off? Ugh!
“Get your ass in here.” His voice rolls with a deep-chested groan.
The door creaks as I part it the rest of the way.
As soon as I see him, he smirks with satisfaction, rolling his fingers through his hair. My stomach roils with utter humiliation and lust. He’s gloriously naked and not even ashamed that I’m seeing him that way. If it were me, I’d be so embarrassed.
“I’m sorry. I was just—”
He chuckles darkly. “You were just what? Watching me jerk off?”
“Uh,” I whisper, my body slinking with a shiver. Shame fills my entire face.
“Did you like what you saw?” He grabs his cock and languidly strokes it while his gaze zeroes on my lips and roves south.
My nipples strain against my shirt, and I instantly want to take it off. Want him to see me bare. Would he like what he saw? I’ve never been naked in front of a man before. It’s scary and vulnerable, yet I want to give him that. I want him to erase all of my insecurities.
“I shouldn’t have been watching you.” I try not to stare at his cock, but Lord, it’s like asking for the impossible.
I wonder how it’d feel in my hand. In my mouth. Inside me. Would it hurt? I bet it would. I bet I’d love it. I bet I’d beg him for more.
“Come here,” he calls with a crook of his finger.
And I’m moving not of my own volition. It’s like he’s got a string attached to me he can pull at any moment.
When I’m in front of him, my throat goes dry. My lips quiver. My panting gets louder. I force my eyes up to his. Is he going to touch me? Finally? But instead, he lifts my hand up and runs the tips of my fingers against his nose. His jaw tightens and he growls all deep and masculine.
My chest heaves with anticipation.
“You were touching yourself.”
It’s a statement, not a question. Heat rushes up to my face again.
“Fuck. You know what that does to me? To know you were touching that sweet pussy while watching me?”
My heart hammers, and I swear it will stop beating if he keeps talking like that. I try to get my hand back, but he cinches his grasp and pops my fingers into his mouth, sucking them, the hollows of his cheeks deepening while his gaze bores into mine, groaning as he tastes me on his tongue.
“So damn delicious. I bet you’d taste even sweeter spread open for me with my tongue in that tight little hole.”
“Oh my God,” I pant. “Am I dreaming?”
I once fantasized about this, but now he’s talking to me like that. It’s like he’s doused me with gasoline and set me on fire. I ache everywhere for him.
“I think this is my dream, not yours.” He brings my hand to his abs, and my body tightens from the mere feel of them against my fingertips.
“You know how beautiful you are, tesoro mio?” His gaze locks with mine.
“I can’t stop looking at you. I…” he stammers, his voice straining.
“I don’t have it in me to send you away right now.
” His teeth scrape along his lower lip. “So either you go or you watch me finish thinking of all the ways I wanna fuck you.”
I stay rooted in place, rubbing the insides of my thighs together, wanting to watch him come so badly no one could tear me away from this place.
His mouth twitches. He wanted me to stay.
“Show me,” I tell him. “I wanna watch.”
He hisses and tightens his grasp on my hand right before he lets go. And the next thing I see is his fingers wrapping around his thickness.
He starts slow at first, his hungered gaze slinking up and down my body, sending me into overdrive. He increases his tempo, his teeth grinding, while glancing down to the apex of my thighs.
“Touch your pussy while I watch.” He growls my name, while jerking himself faster. “Use me the way I’ve been using you all these years. Picture my cock inside you.”
I gasp, my skin alive and prickling with desire. My hurried breaths leave my lungs in gasping aches.
Can I really do this?
He leans back against the wall and rolls his fist up and down.
Maybe I can do this. Maybe I can show him what he’s been missing. And before I lose my nerve, my hands are on the hem of my shirt as I lift it up and over my head.
“Oh fuck,” he strains.
I drop the shirt at my feet, and his eyes greedily take in my bare breasts.
“Take off the rest,” he demands.
I like hearing that power in his voice. I like him in control of me.
I tug down my leggings and panties. No going back now. When I step out of them, his eyes are on the length of me, leisurely sliding his lustful gaze down my curves, not missing a single inch.
There’s barely any space separating us. He can see every flaw, every imperfection.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he whispers, his tone tethered with complete awe.
He looks at me like I’m a sculpture made just for him.
His hand reaches out, and with a feathery touch, his knuckles brush down the side of my torso and down my hip until the span of his palm wraps around my ass.
“I’ve fantasized about this ass so many times. Dreamed about fucking it while I fucked myself to thoughts of it. Thoughts of you.” He squeezes, massaging my flesh, simultaneously working his hard-on.
My fingers slide down in between my breasts, my nipples growing taut from the intense look in his eyes. I want him everywhere. To fill me. To make me his. To make me feel. I never felt this way about anyone.
I drag my fingers lower until they’re between my thighs, dipping them against my achy clit. His hand stays where it is while I touch myself, groaning in sheer ecstasy, and the more I let him hear how good this feels, the more he squeezes my ass, and the harder he works himself.
“Damn, baby, look at you. Getting yourself off while I watch.”
I rub myself faster, our eyes aligned, dripping with passion. With so much want, we could fill pages of history.
“I want you, Raph. So bad…” I suck in a breath when he slides two fingers in between my ass cheeks.
“Tell me, were you saving that pretty tight pussy for me?” His hand slides from my behind to my hip, fingertips brushing down my stomach, almost touching me where I need him.
“Yes,” I gasp.
And with a muttered curse, he jerks my hand away and replaces it with his.
I scream out when two of his fingers roll around my clit, sending shockwaves down my entire body.
He groans. “Fucking hell. You’ve been walking around aching this bad for me?”
“Y-yes,” I stutter, my lips parted, cheeks flushed, knees weak.
I swear I’ll hit the ground, but an arm curls around me, holding me still, while he works me faster.
“Tell me I’m the only man who gets you this wet. Tell me I’m all you’ve ever wanted. Because you are all I’ve ever wanted.”
“You’re everything,” I breathe, trapping air in my lungs. “I’ve never felt anything like this before. You’re the only one. You’ll always be the only one.”
“Good girl,” he growls.
My body shudders with a cry when he replaces his fingers with his palm, forcing it against my clit, making me ride it until I’m near the edge.
“You make my cock rock hard. Make me want nothing else but to bury myself so deep, you’ll be sore for days.”
With all those dirty words, with the way he manipulates my body, I climb higher and higher.
“I’m close. Please…faster.”
But he suddenly stops. My body screams and trembles, wanting him to continue. And just when I think he’s changed his mind, his hands are on my hips and I’m flying in the air on a gasp.
He drops the backs of my thighs on his shoulders and walks me into the shower with him, throwing my body up against the wall, the water running down his back as he stares up at me.
“You’ve never had a man’s tongue inside you?”
I shake my head, unable to grasp the fact that my thighs are spread open for him and he’s about to make my pussy his meal.
“Mmm, I love knowing I’m the first man to ever get to taste your pretty pussy.”
And when his tongue languidly slides up my clit, I throw my head back with a scream and let him have every inch of me.
Masterfully, he flicks and fucks while I thrash and beg. God, I beg. I never want this to end.
“You taste like the sweetest sin. Like my every desire come to life. And I know this is wrong. Fuck, baby, I’m not strong enough.”
He dips his tongue inside me, and I buck against it, grabbing a fistful of his hair, tugging him even closer. The sound of his husky laughter vibrates across my sensitive flesh. My God, can his tongue move. But I want more. I want him to fuck me. To let go completely.
But I know he won’t. He’s still trapped in his regret, and I’m sure once this is over, he’ll regret it too.
The tip of his tongue rolls around my clit, my thighs squeezing his neck, and this time when he does it again, I fly. I soar. I scream out his name over and over, the orgasm a never-ending sensation wafting through me.
His tempo slows when my body jerks before it stills. That mouth of his lands against both of my inner thighs in a soft kiss.
“Thank you,” he says with utter emotion.
Gently he lifts me off of him and slides my body down, until I’m pinned against the wall, his heavy cock pushing into me.
“For what?” I heave with every inhale.
He grips my jaw in his powerful hand, his thumb stroking the corner of my mouth. “For trusting me with your body.”
“I’d give you everything, Raph. It’s yours.” My voice grows pained. “You can take it all.”
He holds my face with both hands, his gaze drowning into mine. “But I can’t.”
I know he means my virginity. And right now, I hate him for it.