Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Kristen
The elevator doors slide open, and I step into... nothing I expected.
Exposed brick walls stretch toward massive industrial windows that flood the space with afternoon light.
The ceilings are impossibly high, original wooden beams crossing overhead like the ribs of some beautiful beast. An open kitchen gleams with stainless steel and white marble.
A sectional couch that could swallow my entire old apartment sits facing a fireplace I didn't know existed in Chicago lofts.
"What is this place?" The words come out breathless.
Nico's hand settles on my lower back, warm and possessive through my thin sweater. "Ours."
I turn to face him, my heart doing something complicated in my chest. "Ours?"
"I bought it." He says this like he's telling me he picked up milk. "Three weeks ago. Closed yesterday."
"You bought a loft." I'm repeating him like an idiot, but my brain refuses to process. "You bought a loft."
"I need somewhere to fuck you away from everyone." His dark eyes hold mine, completely serious. "The compound has too many ears. Too many people walking in at the wrong moment. This is ours. Just ours."
I laugh. I can't help it. "You're serious."
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
He doesn't. He looks like a man who decided he wanted something and simply took it. Which, honestly, tracks.
"Nico." I press my palm against his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady beneath my fingers. "You can't just buy real estate because you want privacy."
"I can do whatever I want." His hand covers mine, pressing it harder against him. "And what I want is to hear you scream my name without worrying about traumatizing my sister."
Heat floods my cheeks. And other places. "That was one time."
"Vittoria still won't make eye contact with me at breakfast."
"That's not my fault. You're the one who—"
He cuts me off with a kiss that steals the argument right out of my mouth. His tongue slides against mine, tasting like the espresso he had in the car, and I forget what I was even protesting.
When he pulls back, I'm gripping his shirt like it's the only thing keeping me upright. Which, honestly, it might be.
"Today," he says against my lips, "we celebrate."
"Celebrate how?"
That dark smile spreads across his face. "By testing every surface in this place."
Oh.
"Every surface?" I manage.
"The couch." His hand slides down my spine. "The kitchen counter." Lower. "The bed." He palms my ass and pulls me flush against him, letting me feel exactly how serious he is. "The bath."
My breath catches. "That's... ambitious."
"I'm a motivated man."
I bite my lip, pretending to consider. "We should probably start with the bathroom, then. Make sure the plumbing works."
"Practical."
"I'm a practical woman."
"You're a fucking tease is what you are."
I grin and slip out of his grip, walking backward toward what I assume is the bathroom. "Coming?"
He stalks after me like I'm prey, and God, why does that make everything clench?
The bathroom is ridiculous. White marble everything, a rainfall shower big enough for four people, and a freestanding copper tub that looks like it belongs in a magazine. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the Chicago skyline.
"Jesus," I breathe.
"You like it?"
I turn to find him right behind me, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. "You're insane."
"Probably." His fingers find the hem of my sweater. "This needs to come off."
I raise my arms, letting him pull it over my head.
"Your turn," I say.
He yanks his shirt over his head in one motion. The scar from his bullet wound is still pink and healing across his chest, and I trace it with my fingertips before I can stop myself.
"Does it still hurt?"
"Only when you're not touching me."
I roll my eyes. "That was terrible."
"Worked though." He catches my hand and presses it flat against his chest, right over his heart. "Feel that?"
His pulse pounds against my palm.
"I feel it," I whisper.
He kisses me again, deeper this time, his hands working at my jeans while mine fumble with his belt. We're a mess of tangled limbs and desperate touches, clothes hitting the marble floor in a trail of fabric.
When we're both naked, he presses me against the cool wall, and I gasp at the temperature contrast.
"Wrap your legs around me."
I do, and he lifts me like I weigh nothing, positioning himself at my entrance. His forehead drops against mine.
"You ready?"
"Nico."
He pushes inside me in one slow, devastating stroke, and my head falls back against the marble. The angle is different like this—deeper, more intense—and I dig my nails into his shoulders as he starts to move.
"Look at me," he commands.
I force my eyes open, meeting his dark gaze as he fucks me against the wall of our bathroom. Our bathroom. Our loft.
"This is ours," he says, like he's reading my mind. "You and me. No one else."
"Yes," I breathe. "Yes, yes—"
His pace increases, each thrust pushing me higher up the wall, and I'm so close already it's almost embarrassing.
"Come for me."
I shatter around him, his name torn from my throat in a sound that definitely would have traumatized Vittoria. He follows me over the edge with a groan that vibrates through my entire body.
We stay there for a long moment, pressed together, breathing hard.
"Well," I finally manage. "The bathroom works."
His laugh rumbles against my neck. "One down."
Nico
The island is cold beneath my palms, but Kristen's skin burns everywhere we touch.
I've got her spread out like a feast, her back against the stone, legs wrapped around my hips as I thrust into her. The kitchen still smells like the dinner we never finished. Garlic and wine.
"Nico." She gasps my name like a prayer, fingernails scoring down my shoulders.
I reach for the small velvet box I left on the counter earlier. Planned this. Been thinking about it since I saw it in the shop window three days ago.
"I have something for you."
Her eyes flutter open, hazy with want. "Now? You want to give me a gift now?"
I pull out slowly, just to feel her clench around me, desperate to keep me inside. Then I show her what's in the box.
The rose gold vibrator.
Kristen's cheeks flush crimson. "Nico, I can't—"
"You can." I press back inside her in one smooth stroke, swallowing her moan with my mouth. "You will."
"But that's—" She squirms beneath me, embarrassment warring with arousal in those grey-blue eyes. "I've never used one of those while... with someone watching."
"First time for everything." I place it in her palm, curl her fingers around it. The weight of it seems to ground her. "Touch yourself. Let me watch you fall apart on my cock."
"Nico." Her voice wavers. Part protest. Part plea.
I rock my hips, hitting that spot inside her that makes her back arch off the marble. "You trust me?"
"Yes." No hesitation. That single word does something dangerous to my chest.
"Then play with your clit while I fuck you." I brace my forearms on either side of her head, caging her in. "Show me what feels good."
For a moment, she just stares at me.
Then her hand moves between us.
The buzz of the vibrator fills the kitchen. Kristen presses it against herself and her whole body jerks like she's been shocked.
"Fuck." The word tears out of her, raw and surprised.
"That's it." I start moving again, slow and deep. "Look at me."
Her eyes lock onto mine. Wild. Desperate. She's biting her bottom lip.
"Don't hold back." I thrust harder. "Let me hear you."
The moan that escapes her is filthy. Loud. Nothing like the careful, controlled sounds she made when we first started this. She's learning that her pleasure belongs to her. That she can take what she wants.
I watch her work herself with the toy, adjusting the angle, finding her rhythm. Her free hand grips the edge of the island.
"You're so fucking beautiful." The words come out rough. Wrecked. "You have any idea what you do to me?"
She laughs. "I have some idea."
I shift my angle, driving deeper, and she cries out. The vibrator slips in her grip and I catch her wrist, guiding it back.
"Don't stop." A command. "I want to feel you come on my cock while you play with yourself."
"Nico, I'm—" Her hips buck against mine. "It's too much."
"It's not." I kiss her hard. "You can take it. You can take everything I give you."
The tension builds in her body. I can feel it in the way her thighs tighten around me, the way her walls flutter and grip. She's close. So fucking close.
"Eyes on me." I don't recognize my own voice. "When you shatter, I want to see it."
She obeys. Of course she does. When Kristen gets like this— she'll do anything.
Her back arches, mouth falling open in a silent scream that finally finds sound. She pulses around me, hot and tight, and I'm gone.
I bury myself deep and let go.
For a long moment, neither of us moves. Just the sound of ragged breathing and the hum of the refrigerator. The vibrator lies forgotten on the counter where she dropped it.
"Holy shit." Kristen's voice is hoarse. Satisfied. "That was..."
She laughs, weak and wonderful. "You're going to kill me with these surprises."
"Never." I press my lips to her temple.
I gather her up, carrying her toward the bathroom. Her arms loop around my neck like they belong there.
"Nico?"
"Hmm?"
"I love you."
I kiss her forehead. "I love you too."
The copper tub is already filled. I planned that too. She sinks into the hot water with a groan that goes straight to my cock. Again.
But for now, I just hold her. Watch the tension drain from her shoulders. Memorize the way she looks at me.