Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
Elise's shirt landed somewhere on the other side of the room, and she wasted no time taking her bra off. It was the one piece of clothing that was actually her own, and she'd been washing it in the sink every night to keep it clean enough. She did not give a single shit about that bra right now.
Nico was kissing her like a man possessed.
"You're being a barbarian," she said. "Are you going to give me more of your clothes to wear?"
He groaned, and it turned into a dark chuckle. "Not a barbarian, a werewolf."
And it hit her.
The truth was really out there. He knew what she was. She openly knew what he was, and they were no longer trying to hide it.
Nico scooped her up, and her legs wrapped around his waist like they belonged there. His hands splayed wide across her bare back, fingers pressing into the curve of her spine, and she could feel the heat of his palm.
He pushed her back against the wall, and his eyes glowed that werewolf yellow. It had happened a few times before, but they always quickly shifted back to a more human brown—not now. Now, whatever caused that change was riding high, and Nico wasn't holding back anymore.
And Elise freaking loved it.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck and took his time breathing in her scent.
His breath ghosted over her pulse point, and the rub of his stubble against the sensitive hollow of her throat sent shivers down her spine.
He didn't have to disguise what he was doing now, and he peppered her with kisses anyway.
She tilted her head back to give him easier access. A woman could become addicted to this. And Elise tried not to think about how this was a stolen moment, the last and only time they could have each other.
"Your scent," Nico groaned. "I could bathe in it. What are you doing to me?" he asked, and she didn't know if it was an accusation or something else.
"My scent?" she asked, and he just groaned again and didn't say anything else.
Okay, well, that was something interesting about werewolves. She was going to try really hard not to be self-conscious about the way she smelled. Nico seemed to like it, and right now, that was what mattered.
He took his time to breathe her in, and Elise luxuriated in the sensation of his lips against her neck, the way he was kissing her like he could devour her.
His tongue traced the line of her collarbone, and she felt the edge of his teeth—so sharp, so wolfish—graze her skin.
She couldn't suppress the sound she made and realized she didn't want to.
He was taking his time, and Elise let out as much noise as she could.
The man deserved to know he was doing a good job.
He hefted her up again and practically threw her down on the bed. She bounced twice, and then he came down over her. His hair fell across his forehead again, and the bedside lamp cast him in shadow.
She loved that he wasn't treating her like some dainty little virgin who had never been touched before.
He was barely leashed intensity, the solid weight of him a promise of the power he wasn't holding back.
Not anymore. It wasn't rough treatment, but it was purposeful, and Elise was feeling every second of it.
Every freaking perfect second of it.
Then his lips found her nipple, and she wasn't thinking of anything anymore.
The wet heat of his mouth closing over the sensitive peak made her arch up off the bed, her fingers tangling in his dark hair to hold him there.
He nipped and sucked, and it was just like he'd been against her neck, but all the more intense for all those nerve endings.
The scrape his teeth, the swirl of his tongue and the suction, it sent a line of heat straight between her legs. He took his time. The man was an artist. Elise appreciated his dedication to his craft. If he was a sculptor, she was his clay. And right now, her body wanted to be molded against his.
He took his time playing with her chest, and there was something almost feral about it.
His hands cupped and squeezed, thumbs circling her nipples when his mouth wasn't on them.
She could feel the barely there prick of claws against the soft underside—not cutting, just present, as if he couldn't quite control his wolf.
This was what it was like to be in bed with a werewolf. And Elise wanted it so much it was driving her crazy.
Nico was treating her like a woman who wanted to be fucked, and she wanted him to fuck her.
His cock was hard between them, and it seemed to be getting harder with every second. She could feel it pressing against her hip, thick and insistent, and every shift of his body made her more aware of exactly how much he wanted this.
He pulled back. His lips were redder than ever. He sat back on his heels, still straddling her, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. She could see the defined lines of muscle across his abdomen flexing with the movement.
"We shouldn't," he said, but his hand was splayed across her abdomen, and he was looking down at her like she was the answer to every question in the universe.
Elise dug her hands into his skin almost hard enough to bruise. She could feel his muscles bunch and shift beneath her palms, hot skin over hard planes, and when she dragged her nails down his chest, he sucked in a breath that made his whole torso clench.
"Do you think we're going to get another chance?" she asked.
The secret was out, and once a secret got out, it didn't stay secret for long. Stuff was about to get real. And if she'd thought their time together earlier that evening was a stolen moment, this was a fucking bank heist.
They were too driven by the desire between them to do the rational thing, to make a plan for what happened tomorrow.
Elise only wanted one thing.
"Fuck me, Nico," she said.
He groaned and kissed her again. His whole body pressed down on her, and he was the best weighted blanket in the universe. Skin to skin from chest to thighs, and she could feel his heart hammering against her ribs in time with her own.
They both shimmied out of their pants and underwear somehow.
Elise wasn't really paying attention to anything except the way Nico was making her feel at that point to care about the logistics.
Cool air hit her overheated skin for just a moment before Nico was back, bare and burning hot against her, and the first touch of his naked cock against her thigh made her gasp.
He started to kiss his way back down her body.
Elise's legs splayed open. His mouth traced a path down her sternum, over the soft curve of her belly.
She could feel the scrape of stubble against sensitive skin, the wet press of his tongue, the hint of teeth.
But she tapped his shoulder, and he looked up at her.
"What? Do you want me to stop?"
"Not even a little bit," she said. "I want to see you."
Under other circumstances, she might have been shy, but this was her only shot. She had no illusions about what the future would bring. If this was her only chance, she was going to throw caution to the wind along with all sense of propriety and take her fill.
Nico sat back on his knees. She let her eyes travel down the length of him, taking in every detail—the flex of muscle in his thighs, the jut of his hipbones, the way his cock stood thick and flushed against his stomach.
"I am all yours, baby," he said.
There was a cocky grin on his face, but there was also just a hint of truth there.
This was deeper than either one of them wanted to admit, than either one of them could ever possibly admit.
And she would be lying to herself if she pretended for even a second that tonight wasn't going to end with her heart broken.
But that was another problem for the future.
Nico was all hard muscles and gorgeous skin. His cock jutted out proud and hard and leaking just a bit at the tip. And Elise knew exactly what she wanted.
She crooked her finger at him. And as he got closer, she reached out and carefully took him in her grip. She felt the pulse of him in her palm, the heavy weight. When she gave him a slow, careful stroke from base to tip, he growled low in his throat. It almost didn't sound human.
He was hard but with just a little give and fitting perfectly in the palm of her hand.
She stroked up and used some of that moisture from his tip to lubricate the downward stroke.
The slick glide made the next pass easier, her thumb swiping over the head to gather more wetness, and she watched his stomach muscles contract with every movement of her hand.
Nico's eyes sank closed, and he groaned and bucked into her grip. Oh yeah, that was good. Seeing him like that, feeling the power she had over him.
But it wasn't quite enough.
Elise pushed Nico down and swapped their positions so she was the one on top of him.
She straddled his hips, her knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his waist, and her hair fell forward over her shoulders in a curtain that brushed against his chest. From this angle, she could feel the hard length of him trapped between them, hot against her belly, and every breath he took shifted his hips just enough to create friction that made her want to forget the plan and just take him inside her right now.
He might have thought she was about to ride him, but she went lower and lower and kissed the same trail down his abdomen as he had done for her.
She tasted salt and musk on his skin, felt the jump of muscle beneath her lips, and when she swirled her tongue around his navel, his whole body tensed in anticipation.
"You don't have to do that," Nico said.
She scoffed. "This is not about what I have to do, buddy."
And then she took him into her mouth. The first taste of him was salt and heat, and she heard the sharp intake of breath above her.
Just the tip.