Chapter 22
Land-speed records were broken on the way up those stairs. River was sure of it.
Nico dumped her on his bed, tore off his shirt (literally…buttons were plinking all over the room), stripped her dress and thong off (without even pausing to see how sexy it was), and had his mouth fastened to her nipple before she’d even had time to bounce once against the firm mattress.
She groaned as his mouth slid up the column of her neck, and his teeth grazed her earlobe. “You’re stunning.”
The sincerity in his voice brought tears to her eyes. No one had ever called her stunning before. But Nico looked at her like she was the only woman he’d ever need in his life. It was…everything.
“Tell me to stop and I will.”
She would’ve laughed out loud if she wasn’t so turned on.
She felt like they’d been dancing around their physical attraction forever, and now that they’d decided to give in to it, nothing short of a raging zombie apocalypse and the national guard was going to make her push him away. “Don’t ever stop.”
“Never,” he murmured against her lips.
She groaned in disappointment when he lifted his weight off her, then let out the loudest, most embarrassing moan she’d ever let out in her life when he slid down, pushed her thighs apart, and pressed a hot, wet kiss right on her…
Oh. Holy. God.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to be right here,” he said, leaning in to tease her clit with the tip of his tongue.
She had no idea. But he could’ve asked her what color the sky was at that point, and she wouldn’t have known the answer.
Her eyes rolled back, her back arched off the bed, her thighs trembled.
Lightning shot up and down her spine, tightening her entire body in its wake.
Desperate, needy cries fell from her lips as his tongue tormented her, hitting a spot—yes, oh, God, right there—that made starbursts explode behind her eyes.
The satisfied hum he made in response vibrated along her nerve endings as he tasted her again and again, sucking and licking, his tongue more talented than any sex toy she’d ever had.
(And she had many. She’d been married to a selfish lover with a micro penis. What choice did she have?)
The cries she let out were borderline embarrassing, but he said, “Louder, fiorellino. I want everyone in this house to hear you come for me.”
And just to make sure she had no choice but to comply, that’s when he slid first one, then a second thick finger inside her and hit her G-spot with a level of accuracy that boggled her mind, curled her toes, and made her scream his name so loud she’d probably never be able to look Enzo and Van in the eye again.
Not to mention Mrs. Sandoval, the housekeeper who lived in the servant’s suite downstairs and made sure there were always fresh oatmeal cookies in the house.
He lifted his eyes to hers, his tongue and fingers never stopping. The heat in that gaze conveyed the message his mouth was too full to deliver.
Come now…
She did too. Because feeling what he was doing to her was brutal pleasure, but seeing it?
Unfathomable.
She came with a pained, keening cry, back arching, abs contracting, hands fisting the sheets beneath her helplessly, sweat beading over her skin. The orgasm lasted longer than any she’d ever had, the tremors wracking her mercilessly.
And when she finally went quiet, body limp, he lifted up and braced himself above her, looking down at her with an expression that could only be described as predatory.
He looked like a devil.
That’s when she knew there was no coming back from this moment. Everything between them was about to change.
And she couldn’t wait.