A deafening silence fills the car as Nico weaves through the streets. I glance behind us at the empty back seat.
“Don’t you have a driver?” I ask.
“No,” he says.
When no other words seem forthcoming, I redirect the vents away from me.
“Natalie sat there last,” Nico says, as though to explain everything, before turning down the blower.
“Does her prosthetic sleeve still make her leg hot?”
His only response is to grunt. I turn and look out the window, wanting to escape the awkward silence, but I’m trapped in the car beside him.
His entire countenance changed the moment I sat in the seat.
I swallow the lump of emotion forming in my throat. I was only five years old when his mom died in a car crash, but I was inconsolable for days until my parents took me to the hospital to see him and his sister. My stomach twists as I remember Natalie’s tiny body covered in bandages with tubes coming out of her nose and mouth. Nico wasn’t much better. He’d had burns and scrapes everywhere, and a mask over his face to battle the effects of smoke inhalation.
Mamma stopped me from crawling onto the bed with him, but he’d lowered his hand and let me hold his finger for a while before he fell asleep.
I don’t know how much of that he remembers. Even at such a young age, I could tell he wasn’t all there.
That was three years before I saw my father torture and murder a man. In my trauma, I buried everything before then.
This is the first time I’ve been in a car alone with Nico Russo. The realization sends shock down my spine.
I jump when he covers my hands with one of his. Belatedly, I stop wringing my fingers together in my lap.
He pulls up to the guard station at the back of his building and nods at the man inside the shack as the metal bollards retract into the ground. I watch in stunned silence as he continues to a second security checkpoint. He uses his thumbprint on his phone to open the metal gate before driving through.
“We’ll add you to the database tomorrow morning. Once your information is in the system, you can enter through any door or gate and use any elevator you want. I’ll give you a tour before you leave for class tomorrow.”
I stare at his profile, not sure how to respond to him, especially after he so casually mentioned me going to class in the morning.
It isn’t until he parks and exits the car that I realize how bright he keeps the parking garage. He slams his door and walks around the hood before opening my door.
I push away my brain fog and look up—and up—to meet his eyes.
Not long ago, he kneeled before me, but now he towers over me. My insides quiver.
I grab the handle to swing my legs out, but he stoops down and lifts me as though I weigh nothing. I squeak as cool air brushes against my ass, but he jostles me around and tucks the hem of my skirt against the back of my thighs with his forearm before kicking the door closed and stalking toward the elevators.
When he lifts his arm to press his thumb against the scanner to open the glass doors, I squeak and hook my arms around the back of his neck.
“You can put me down,” I say.
“I’m not letting you go until you’re in my bed.”
Apprehension steals my voice.
He walks into the glass room, mashes the elevator button, and steps over the threshold when the doors immediately open. Our murky reflection taunts me as he presses the second from the top button.
He surprises me by giving me a quick explanation as he points to each button, top to bottom, “Private roof, top floor—our apartment, Natalie, my father, two empty floors for family use, emergency exit on floor two, garage.”
He steps back and asks, “Got it?”
I nod.
“Thank fuck. I can’t wait anymore. Give me your lips.”
“Wha–?”
He takes my mouth in a searing kiss. Every nerve in my body lights up in remembered pleasure. An inferno rages in my core, and I tighten my arms around his nape even as fear pulses down my spine.
I may not have much experience, but there’s no way the monstrosity between his legs won’t hurt when he shoves it inside me. My mind screams for me to run while perverse interest streaks through me.
He doesn’t lift his head or give me an opportunity to speak. The elevator dings. He glances forward, nips my bottom lip, and steps off the elevator as he dives deeper into my mouth.
My head spins. Heat pulses between my legs. Adrenaline pounds in my ears.
Maybe I’ll be okay. Even when he lost control and shoved his cock into my throat, he didn’t hurt me. It was terrifying and overwhelming, and I couldn’t breathe, but the soreness in my throat has already faded.
Except, as his heels click against the marble floor, fear coalesces in my chest and doesn’t disburse when his tongue gives a wicked swipe along the roof of my mouth. My toes curl in my sandals.
His fingers—his thick, wicked, skilled fingers—built me to the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had, and in a fraction of my normal time. My pussy throbs in anticipation.
But no matter how skilled his digits were, they stretched me fuller than I’ve ever been, and they’re nowhere near as big as his cock.
A keypad beeps as he inputs the code without pausing the dueling of our tongues.
How many levels of security does he go through daily? Does his entire family live this way?
His keys clatter onto the foyer table. He growls and pulls back.
“Stop thinking, principessa. I’m the only one in your world right now.”
He descends before I catch my breath. His steps falter as he toes off his shoes and continues deeper into the apartment.
I see none of the front room. Or the living room. Or the hall.
Silky fabric embraces my back as he lays me on his bed and pulls his arms out from under me, but I gasp into his mouth as he grips my breasts through my dress. I arch my back and clutch at his arms, desperate for more but already overwhelmed.
Electricity arrows straight to my core as he pinches my nipples between his thumb and forefingers. I whimper and rub my thighs together.
He releases my sensitive nipples and trails one hand down to my hip while wrapping his long fingers around my neck. A thrill runs down my spine and my chest tightens as I realize just how big and masculine he is. His massive hands make me feel tiny and delicate.
My strength is nothing compared to his. He could crush me without even trying.
But he won’t. He promised. I believe him.
Believing and experiencing are two very different things, though. My body wars with itself, struggling between fight, flight, and fuck mode.
He captures the tip of my tongue between his teeth and pulls away. I whimper. He releases me and teases the corners of my mouth with little flicks of his tongue.
“Stop moving, amore mio,” he groans.
I fill my lungs and try to catch my breath. He flexes his fingers into my jugular and sneaks his hand down to my bare thigh.
“Wait, Nico, I—”
“Fucking hell, principessa, don’t say my name unless you want me savage,” he snarls against my cheek.
I flatten my palms against his chest and push. He nips my jaw and slips his hand up my skirt. His pinkie brushes against my pussy. My breath catches. I push against his chest harder.
He closes his teeth over the lobe of my ear and squeezes my throat. I teeter on the edge of an unexpected orgasm.
“I’m a virgin!”
The words explode from my chest. I clamp my thighs together and freeze in terror.
A low, primitive rumble leaks from his chest. My insides clench, and I fist the front of his suit to hold off my orgasm. He licks my trapped earlobe before pulling away and letting it slip free from his lips.
“I was the first to fuck your mouth. I’ll be the first to sink into your tight, wet pussy. How about your asshole, Serenity? Are you a virgin there, too?”
“Y-yes, but I don’t want—”
“Don’t say things you’ll regret later,” he snarls against the side of my neck.
“What? But I’ve never—”
“I’ll make you so desperate for my cock you’ll beg me to fuck you anyway I please. I’ll fill all your pretty holes with my cum.”
My stomach drops.
“But you’re so big. I’m scared.”
He lifts himself up and stares down into my eyes.
“You’re safe, principessa. I’ll take care of you,” he promises.
Fretful tears slip down my temples. He releases my throat and thigh and brackets my head with his enormous hands.
“You’re mine,” he says before leaning down and brushing his lips over mine.
His slow, reverent kiss morphs my tears to ones of wonder. He cherishes me with his teeth and tongue. I don’t know when the transition begins, but my hands stop pushing at his chest and start unfastening his clothes.
He has too many buttons. When I finally slip his tie out of his collar and unbutton enough to touch bare flesh, urgent need pulses between my legs.
He growls, stands, and yanks his shirt open. Buttons ping to the floor. With a sexy shrug, he removes his coat and shirt before whipping his undershirt off over his head.
Hunger gnaws at me as I study his broad shoulders, muscular chest, and six-pack abs.
I reach for his belt, but he pushes my hands away.
“Don’t touch me, little girl, or you’ll get more than you’re ready for. I’m so fucking hard right now.”
He lifts me off the bed and settles me with my feet dangling toward the floor. I gasp as he parts my thighs and drops to his knees.
“What are you doing?” I hiss as he wedges his shoulders between my legs.
His grey eyes shine with wicked desire as he stares into my soul.
“Returning the favor.”
He flips my skirt up and groans against my inner thigh. Embarrassment streaks through me. No one, not even my gynecologist, has had their face so close to my sex.
“God, your pussy is so pretty. So plump and wet. So needy.” He leans closer, licks my folds, and hums. “So tasty.”
I fist the sheets and try to scoot away, but he hooks his hands over my hips and teases my bikini line with his fingers as he holds me right where he wants me.
“How many?”
My brain short-circuits as his breath ghosts over my pussy. I shake my head.
“How many orgasms before you beg me to fill this little pussy with my big cock?”
I tilt my hips and twist my fingers in the sheets. He chuckles and nips my thigh.
“Only one way to find out, and I’m going to enjoy every lick.”
I nearly jackknife off the bed as he seals his mouth over my pussy. He teases and flicks. Nips and sucks. Curls and laps.
I shatter.
He retreats to my inner thighs, peppering my flesh with little nips until the worst of my orgasm fades. I clamp my legs over his ears when he dives back in like a starving man at a feast.
It’s too much.
He doesn’t stop.
I grab his head.
He hums against my pussy.
A second orgasm barrels through me without warning.
He doesn’t slow. I struggle to breathe as he pushes my clit hood out of the way with one hand and slips two fingers into me with the other. His tongue circles my vulnerable clit.
“Nico, no, stop, I—”
I scream as he curls his digits inside me and runs the length of his tongue directly over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Waves of pleasure crash through me. I forget how to breathe as he thrusts his fingers in and out, prolonging my release while building another deeper, unbearably intense orgasm.
He lifts his head just enough to whisper against my oversensitive sex.
“Suffocate me with your thighs, principessa. Drown me in your honey. More. Give me everything.”
He traps my clit between his lips and sucks in time with the curling of his fingers inside me.
I erupt. Molten lava gushes from deep within me and soaks his hand, my thighs, and the sheets underneath me. Every muscle in my body pulses in time with my release. My diaphragm seizes. Black spots dance in my vision.
He works me down from my high with gentle fingers and kisses my inner thigh before unfastening his belt and shucking off his pants. I blink through gritty, unfocused eyes and move like a mindless doll as he lifts my shoulders, unzips my dress, and tugs the material down around my waist.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he groans as he leans down, cups my breasts, and closes his mouth over my left peak.
I shake and moan and grab his head as he coaxes my body toward another orgasm without even touching my hypersensitive pussy. His wicked teeth and tongue explore my breasts, flicking, nipping, swirling, and sucking until every centimeter of my chest throbs with addictive need. He takes what he wants until every part of me belongs to him. I sink my nails into his scalp and tug his hair in mindless pleasure.
His knuckles brush along my stomach as he strokes his cock. Pearly liquid leaks from his tip and lands in my bellybutton. He’s so big everywhere. Apprehension flutters through me, but there’s nowhere for it to settle with every cell in my body buzzing with endorphins.
He licks up my throat, nipping at the marks he left on me, and crawls up my body. I whimper and lift my mouth to his, needing his domination to ground me. My heart pounds as he wraps my legs around his hips and settles the underside of his thick girth along my sex. I twist my fingers in his hair. He growls and invades my mouth as he thrusts his hips, running the entire length of his cock through my drenched folds.
I gasp in surprise as intense sensations spear through my clit. He sets a rhythm with both tongue and cock, hypnotizing me with each wet glide. His fingers weave into my hair and pluck my nipples. He’s everywhere. Overwhelming. Too big. Too much.
Not enough.
I whimper and chase his lips when he lifts his mouth, but he tightens his hand in my hair.
“One more?”
I scrunch my sweaty brows in confusion until he angles his hips and rubs the lip of his mushroom tip over my clit, sending arcs of electricity straight to my womb. I hiss and shake my head.
I can’t orgasm again. I’ll die. He’s trying to kill me.
“One more,” he decides with a smirk.
“No, please, I can’t,” I sob.
“Try again, principessa. You can end this any time,” he says as he brushes my sweaty hair off my forehead and grinds his shaft against my pussy.
I gasp and writhe. He licks my ear.
“Please, Nico. Fuck me, please,” I beg.
“Good girl,” he growls.
I launch into deeper need as his teeth and tongue clash with mine and he presses the broad head of his cock to my entrance. The glorious, terrifying stretch as he fills me and keeps filling me steals the breath from my lungs. I squeak and mewl into his mouth, too far gone to hold in my responses.
I stiffen, expecting pain as he pushes impossibly deeper, but he bites my tongue and nips my bottom lip.
“God, you’re so fucking tight and wet.” A muscle ticks in his jaw. I dig my nails into his back. He shifts his hips, curses, and loses control.
I die a million glorious deaths as he pounds into me. Explosion after explosion blasts through me, wrecking my sense of time and shattering me into tiny pieces. With each thrust, lick, and pinch, he rearranges my insides and gathers my pieces until a new me emerges.
He falters. Changes tempo. Angles his hips. Growls. Bites my shoulder like a savage beast and grinds his groin against mine. I shatter again as he flattens my clit.
His cock pulses deep within me, hitting a sensitive spot and prolonging my release.
I float in a world of rainbows and muffled sounds.
He killed me. I’m in heaven.
I’d drift into the clouds and lose myself forever if he disappeared. He’s my moor. My tether. I need him.
I cling to him with all my might.
He’s mine.
