Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
VICKY
Nicholas’s groan vibrates through his entire body, and I clench my thighs in response. I’d readied myself for a nasty taste, but he’s all clean scent and soft, silky flesh wrapped around a steel rod. The earlier talk about Beth has my ever-present inner critic running riot, but one glance at Nicholas and those thoughts scatter.
He’s loving this—jaw clenched, hands buried in my hair, his eyes hooded as what I can only describe as ecstasy streams across his face.
He wasn’t wrong when he said some women get turned on by sucking a man’s dick. I understand it now. Power fills my veins, and I smile around his length. I’m doing this. Me. The woman he rejected.
“Fuck. Fuck.” He hisses as I gently drag my teeth over his erection and swirl my tongue around the silver bar in his crown. “Christ, yes. Just like that. You’re fucking killing me.”
With no experience to call upon, I risk cupping his balls. I squeeze, but not too hard.
“ God. This can’t be your first time. Keep going. Don’t stop.”
I’ve no intention of stopping when he’s putty in my hands. I may be on my knees with him towering over me, but there’s no question of who is in charge.
I could get addicted to this.
With one hand still buried in my hair, he leans slightly forward and cups my breast. His thumb travels back and forth over my nipple. I groan, and the sound must vibrate along his dick because he hisses again.
“Jesus, fuck.”
I groan again and again, and his hold on my hair gets tighter, and he’s pinching my nipple now as his hips thrust forward. The crown hits the back of my throat, and I gag then swallow.
“Fuck. Coming.” He pulls out of my mouth, spraying jets of cum over my chest. The expression on his face, all corded neck and eyes squeezed shut, is something I don’t think I’ll ever forget. He looks as though he’s found paradise. Did I look like that when he made me come last night? I sure as hell felt it.
“Wait there. I’ll get a cloth and clean you up.”
He disappears through a door on the far side of the enormous bedroom. A blob of cum drips off my chest and onto my thigh. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I scoop it up and slide my finger into my mouth, pulling it out with a pop.
“Jesus Christ Almighty, are you trying to kill me?”
I meet Nicholas’s gaze as he stalks toward me with a flannel. “I thought it would taste horrible, but it’s… musky and salty. Kind of like oysters. Why didn’t you… you know… come in my mouth?”
Dropping to a crouch, he runs the warm cloth over my breasts, wiping away evidence of his orgasm. “Because it came at me so fast, I didn’t have time to ask you if you were okay with that. Not all women like it.”
As much as I’ve always pined after Nicholas, a part of me expected him to be a selfish lover, like Matthew was, but he’s nothing of the sort. Every action, every word shows he’s thinking of me, of my comfort, of my likes and dislikes. It’s a heady experience.
“I-I think I’d be okay next time. To try it, at least. I won’t know if I don’t try.”
His lips curve on one side in a crooked smile that shows off a dimple in his right cheek. Whenever his dimples make an appearance, they soften him. His features relax, and he looks far less fearsome.
“You’re happy for there to be a next time?”
Oh, yeah. Especially if he gives me that look as though I’m a dream he doesn’t want to wake up from. “Yes. I liked it.”
He rises to his feet and holds out a hand to help me up. Cupping both hands around my neck, he props his thumbs underneath my chin and angles my head. “I’m going to give you so many orgasms on this honeymoon, you’ll beg me to stop.”
When his mouth takes mine, every muscle south of my belly button tightens simultaneously. I’m already soaked from the power rush of giving him a blow job, but when he says things like that, I can hardly hold myself together.
What if last night was a fluke?
God, I hope not. But the way he’s looking at me like a starving man faced with a buffet of his favorite foods, I’m about to find out.
“Don’t be scared.” He drags his knuckles along my cheekbone. “I’m going to take care of you. I promise I’ll make it good.”
He kisses me again, but it’s different. Harder, more demanding, his tongue seeking mine. Leaning into me, he walks me backward. My knees hit the bed, but I don’t collapse in a heap like I did on our wedding night. This time, Nicholas supports me until I’m lying in the middle of the bed, his taut, inked body looming over me, his dick hard again already.
“You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?”
“You’ve changed your tune.” I don’t know what makes me say it, and the second the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could shove them back in.
A shadow passes over his features, and his pupils dilate, eclipsing the rich chocolate of his irises. “I never saw you then, but I fucking see you now.”
If I thought of coming back with a response, his mouth crashing on mine scuppers that idea. His lips and hands are everywhere at once, and I lose myself to his touch. Closing my eyes, I let my other senses take over. The subtle scent of his cologne as he kisses my neck, the roughened pads of his fingers traveling over my ribcage, my waist, my hips. The soft moans and grunts that tell me he’s enjoying this as much as I am.
Running my hands over his broad shoulders, I trace his muscles all the way to the base of his spine and back up again, but when he pushes two fingers inside me, I let out a cry and dig my nails into his back.
“That’s it, baby. Fucking mark me, because I’m sure as hell going to mark you.”
He curls his fingers and grazes them along the front wall of my vagina, and I almost shoot off the bed. God. A groan bursts out of me, and my pelvis thrusts up, greedily pushing into his hand, demanding more.
“You’re soaked. Is that from sucking my dick?”
Words are impossible. I nod. It’s all I can manage.
“You’re going to come for me, aren’t you, wife?” He pinches my clit, then rubs it soothingly, round and round in circles.
“Please,” I whisper.
“Let your body guide you.” His teeth nibble my ear lobe, and it’s glorious. “Let go, Half-pint. I’ve got you. Come first, then I’m going to put my dick in you. You want that, don’t you? You want my dick?”
I gulp in air that forces its way past my throat. His dirty mouth is doing things to me I wouldn’t have thought it would.
Yes, I want that. I want it more than air.
I manage a nod of encouragement.
“Then, you know what to do.” He latches onto my nipple, and his fingers slide in and out of me, and I’m there. I’m right there . But it doesn’t happen. I linger on the precipice, and I can see the ground beneath me, the frothy waves waiting for me to dive in, but my feet are glued to the ground and no matter how much I want to jump, they won’t move.
I’m still broken. It was a fluke.
Tears fill my eyes. I close them. If Nicholas sees, he’ll know. And I don’t want him to see the truth. I turn my head to the side, and I do what I’ve always done.
I fake it.
Oh, it’s an award-winning performance, all scissoring legs and loud, breathy moans. His fingers stop moving inside me, but he keeps them there. I force my lips into a brilliant smile and open my eyes.
The glower that greets me is the kind that probably makes grown men pee their pants.
“What the fuck did you do?” His voice simmers with suppressed rage, and his cheeks and neck are splashed with blotchy red like an artist has flicked a paint-filled brush at him. “I told you not to ever fake it with me. I fucking know, Victoria. I always fucking know.”
A swallow forces its way past the lump that’s crawled into my throat. Reaffirmation of the lie is on the tip of my tongue, but if I lie to him again, I’m not sure what he’ll do, and as brave as I am, I’m also not stupid.
“Talk to me, for fuck’s sake. Tell me why you did it.”
“Because,” I snap, shoving at his chest until he rolls to the side, and his fingers slip out of me. I sit up, showing my back to him. “It takes too long. It’s too difficult.”
Silence fills the room, and I’m desperate to make a dash for the bathroom, lock the door, and refuse to come out. Although I wouldn’t put it past Nicholas to kick the door down if I did. Embarrassment washes over me in powerful waves, my face hotter than baking for ten hours in the sun without sunscreen. I stare at the floor, willing it to open up and swallow me, to save me from this mortifying conversation.
Matthew never had a clue when I faked it, but I’m learning fast that Nicholas isn’t Matthew.
“Victoria.” His hands land on my shoulders, but he doesn’t force me to look at him. He leaves them there, a comforting weight. “Let me tell you something about men. Real men, not that useless prat you dated in college.” He drops one hand to my waist, freeing my shoulder for his chin. “Spending hours exploring a woman’s body is a fucking privilege. I could tongue your pussy for an hour straight and never get bored. Your body needs a little more attention, that’s all. Attention I am more than happy to give you. I told you this last night. Hear me. Believe me.”
“Why are you being nice to me?” My voice cracks, and I hate it. I hate the expression of weakness in front of a man I’ve always made sure to show my strong side to. Since he put that ring on my finger, I’m not sure who I am anymore, and I don’t like it. I don’t like her.
“You’d rather I was hard on you?”
I roll my lips. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Then, what do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” A sour laugh pushes its way past my throat. “You hit the jackpot with me, huh?”
“You want the truth?”
Do I? I’m not sure, but I nod anyway.
“Then, turn and look at me, and I’ll give you the truth.”
I shift my weight, but when I avoid his gaze, he clips me under the chin until our eyes meet.
“The truth is I’m sort of relieved.”
I frown. “Relieved I can’t orgasm?”
“You can orgasm,” he growls. “I’m relieved that you have a vulnerable side. I’ve always thought you’re as tough as granite.”
Granted, I thought I was, too. I play with my wedding ring, twisting it around my finger. Maybe it’s laced with magic and that’s why Nicholas has managed to breach my resilient outer shell.
“I don’t like being weak.”
“Vulnerability isn’t weakness. It’s human.”
“Are you saying you’re not human? Because I’ve never seen you vulnerable.”
A soft chuckle echoes in his throat. He clips me under the chin. “Lie down. Close your eyes.”
I do as he asks. The mattress shifts beneath me, and soft music fills the room. I crack open an eye as automatic blinds drop from the ceiling, blocking out the brilliant sunshine and bathing the room in a muted glow.
“Close them,” he orders. Firm hands part my thighs and warm breath feathers over my vulva. “Don’t think. Feel.”
The first touch of his tongue on my clit sends a shot of lust right into my veins. I had been so close before that it doesn’t take long for me to reach that same point again. And the same thing happens. I see the peak, can almost touch it, my fingertips straining to pull myself up and over the top, to race down the other side of the hill to the glistening ocean below. But I stay where I am, the finish line agonizingly close yet out of reach.
A rumble vibrates through Nicholas’s chest, and I feel it all the way down to my toes. “Stop thinking.” He slides two fingers inside me, curling them toward my front wall, and uses his thumb to keep pressure on my clit. He kisses me, his tongue endlessly stroking mine, his lips both firm and soft. I bury my fingers in his hair, urging him to kiss me faster, harder. I’m close enough to taste it.
“Come, Half-pint. Not for me, but for yourself.”
His words are the key to the door. It flings wide open, and I fall. I fall, and it’s sublime. An almost out-of-body experience. I’m still coming when Nicholas pushes himself inside me. My eyes fly open, a gasp spilling out of me. That stings.
“Breathe.” He kisses my forehead, my eyelids, my nose, my lips. “Breathe for me. You’re fucking tight. I’m going to need to push harder to get all the way in.”
“You’re not in?” Jesus Christ, I’m already full of him. Any more, and he’ll butt up against my cervix.
“No.” He half grimaces, half smiles. “’Bout half way.”
I blink furiously. “Oh.”
“We’ll make it fit, Half-pint. Take a deep breath in for me. Good. Now, let it out.”
As I do, he thrusts forward, jamming himself to the hilt. “Ow.”
“Hold steady. Let your body adjust. Keep breathing. That’s it. Good girl.”
I’m glad I’m not a virgin, although it’s been so long since I had sex, maybe my hymen has regenerated. Sure feels like my first time. Worse than that. Nicholas is considerably girthier than both my other sexual partners.
“Look at me.”
Pushing away thoughts of anything other than Nicholas, I focus on his face, the strain of holding himself still evident in corded muscles and a locked jaw.
“There you are.” He captures my mouth, and as his tongue pushes past my lips, he pulls out, angles his hips, and thrusts back into me with a grunt. It’s still a tight fit, but the more he moves, the more I adjust, my body welcoming him rather than fighting against the intrusion. He shifts his position again, and something grazes me deep inside, setting off an explosion that hits me out of nowhere. It’s not like anything I’ve felt before. It’s… otherworldly.
Shudders rack my body, my toes curling into the crisp covers. I fist the sheets with one hand and rake my nails down his back.
“God. God. ”
Our bodies smash together, all sweat and friction and slapping flesh. Grabbing his face, I pull his mouth to mine. This time, I’m the instigator, the demanding one. His thrusts are wild now, out of control. I meet him as an equal, both hands clamped to his arse and my legs hooked over his hips as I urge him to fuck me deeper, harder.
“ Fuck. ”
“Now it’s your turn to come,” I murmur in his ear. “For yourself, not for me.”
A low groan sounds in his throat. “Coming.” He thrusts twice more, then stills, giving me that same look of ecstasy he had when he came over my chest. Collapsing onto me, yet keeping his full weight from crushing me, he buries his face in my neck.
“Wife?”
A warm feeling spreads through my midsection. I could get used to him calling me that. “Yeah?”
“Don’t plan on getting much rest on this honeymoon.”