When my hand lands on cold sheets, loneliness wraps around my heart. I spent twenty-four years of my life waking up alone, so it shouldn’t bother me now, but after falling asleep pressed against Nico’s big, warm body, his absence hurts.
When I roll over and my head gives a slight throb, I sit up and take the pills he left for me on the bedside table. My shoulder and hip hurt the worst, but the constant nausea is gone and the bandages around my fingertips don’t annoy me as much as they originally did.
I stumble from the bed and find Nico staring out through the glass wall in the living room. Desire pulses through me as I remember his kisses on the couch.
He turns as I approach. Fear tightens my chest at the savage glint in his eyes, but he abolishes his dark thoughts and aims his full attention on me.
His heavy-lidded stare as he sweeps his gaze over me melts my insides and fills me with hunger.
The sky remains dark above the city.
“What time is it?” I ask.
“A little after three,” he says without looking at his phone. The screen glows against his thigh before he presses the button to turn it off.
“Let’s get you back to bed, principessa,” he says as he stalks toward me.
I instinctually step back, but he scoops me off my feet, carries me to the bed, and settles in beside me when I refuse to release his arm.
If teddy bears were lethal, rock hard, larger than life, and smelled of whiskey and cologne, he’d be the most comfortable one in the entire world.
I squeeze him tighter, relaying what I can’t say with actions. In a haze of pain, I almost confessed my feelings at the hospital. It’s way too soon for declarations of love. We barely announced our engagement three days ago, and seven days before then, Nico was set to marry my sister.
I need to call Camilla first thing in the morning. She’s at the best mental health hospital money can buy thanks to Nico.
I hug him with all my strength and snuggle closer.
“What’s wrong, Serenity?” he asks.
I shake my head and burrow closer.
“I should be asking you that,” I huff.
He stiffens before relaxing and gently stroking my hair back from my face, avoiding the lump on the side of my head.
“Can you stay in the apartment for a few days?”
It’s my turn to stiffen. I lift my head and meet his eyes before studying his expression. After the initial waves of disbelief, anger, fear, and sadness pass, I push aside my emotions and will my brain to work.
“His name wasn’t Ralf, was it?” I ask.
His eyes intensify in the dim light of the bedside lamp.
“How did you know?”
I gnaw on the inside of my mouth before responding.
“He told me I should have stayed away from you, so I figured he wasn’t a regular student.”
He grunts and trails his fingertips down my spine.
“Who is he?” I ask.
A muscle in his jaw ticks. I rise onto my elbows for a better view of his face as alarm spears through me.
“What? Don’t tell me he’s Russian mafia or something?”
He closes his eyes, blocking me from reading whatever clues his orbs might give me. I lash out in anger and slap his chest. He grabs my wrist and lifts his lashes, revealing the cold, hard fury of his thoughts. My stomach bottoms out.
“He disappeared before we could even get him to questioning,” he says.
His low, guttural voice vibrates through me and pulses in my clit. My nipples harden, and by the heated flick of his gaze over my lips, I know he feels them through our sleepwear.
“But you think he might be Russian mafia? You’re serious?”
He sighs and pulls me all the way on top of him, aligning our fronts so my legs drape over his hips. My heart leaps in fear when his hard cock presses against my belly, but with him underneath me and the light revealing his face, I stave off thoughts of not-Ralf’s attack.
“His connections are strong enough to hide him from me, so it’s possible. I doubt he’ll attack you again, but I’m not willing to take the chance. Give me a few days to secure the school, then you can go back to classes, if you want,” he says.
The room falls so quiet the sound of the air rushing through the vent seems loud. I work through several trains of thought before speaking.
“I’ll stay here for a few days, but only if you do, too.”
A muscle twitches in his jaw, so I rush to clarify, “If you have to leave for work, then fine, but you’d better text or call every thirty minutes. No silent treatment like last time.”
He inhales, shifting me on his chest.
“I can do that,” he says.
“And Natalie can come over, and I can visit her whenever I want,” I rush to add.
After a moment of consideration, he tucks my hair behind my ears and says, “You can go anywhere inside the building, but no roof, parking garage, or first floor.”
“Deal. Wait, this is only for a few days. Not permanently,” I add.
He chuckles and rubs his hands down my sides.
“Sure, principessa, although the thought of locking you in my tower and having my way with you whenever and wherever I want sounds pretty tempting.”
Heat pulses low in my belly as he grabs my ass. I tilt my hips and lose my breath. Lightning streaks through my clit as I rub against his hard cock.
“You need to rest,” he rumbles in both warning and frustration.
“I feel okay,” I say in a breathy voice.
His big hands knead my ass and grind me against his length.
“You’re not well enough for what I want to do to you.”
“Please, Nico. I don’t want to think anymore,” I whisper. “Every time I close my eyes, I’m back in that closet. He wasn’t going to stop. He wanted to hurt me.”
Nico wraps his thick fingers around my nape and pulls me up his body until his breath ghosts over my lips.
“Tell me if I go too far. I can’t promise I’ll stop, but I’ll try,” he murmurs before pulling me down and joining our mouths.
We both groan as he deepens the kiss. When he lifts me away, I whimper and wriggle closer, but he digs his fingers into my nape and holds me back.
“Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me to fuck you so thoroughly you forget the world exists beyond me,” he demands.
I dig my nails into his chest and grind my pussy against his length.
“Please, Nico,” I beg.
“Fucking hell, you’re too perfect,” he curses before joining our mouths and rolling us over. Pain pulses through my hip, but he steals it away with insistent licks of his tongue along mine, and anticipation thrums through me as he dominates my mouth. I arch my back and explore his chest and shoulders, but grow impatient and tug the bottom hem of his shirt up. He rises onto his knees and whips it off his head before tossing it to the floor and reaching for mine. His hot hands skim up my body as he reveals my curves, and the heat in his eyes as he cups my naked breasts fuels my need.
With heartwarming care, he threads my arms out of my sleeves and peppers my bruised shoulder with kisses before licking along my collarbone and nipping up my throat to suck on my ear, following my shirt as he peels it over my head. I gasp and test the muscles of his chest and shoulders, silently cursing the bandages on my fingertips before dipping my hands lower.
He gathers my wrists in one hand and teases the back of his hand along the flesh above my waistband.
“These shorts… mmm,” he hums as he crawls backward and wedges his shoulders under my knees, nipping a trail down my side, over my hip, and along my exposed thigh.
Realization dawns. He found me with my pants around my ankles and Ralf on top of me. Cold sweat—from fear, not pleasure—gathers on my nape as I recall Ralf’s viciousness as he destroyed my jeans and yanked them down my legs.
Nico prevents a freak out I didn’t even know was sneaking up on me by leaving my loose pajama shorts firmly around my waist. He hooks his finger into the fabric between my legs and pulls it aside to expose my pussy.
My insides clench as his eyes darken, and he hums in delight. With my wrists in one hand, my legs splayed wide over his shoulders, and his other arm wrapped over my hip with his hand holding my shorts aside, he studies my pussy and licks his lips like a man preparing for his favorite feast.
When he shifts his eyes to meet mine, every cell in my body liquifies.
“You’re already so wet for me, aren’t you, principessa?”
I nod, wincing slightly as my head aches. He scowls before dipping his head so close his breath warms my pussy lips.
“Just one taste. I just need one taste of this perfect pussy,” he murmurs.
I nearly launch off the bed when he runs the flat of his tongue over my entire sex. Electricity zaps through my clit. The wet glide on my swollen, needy labia nearly sends me into a volley of mini orgasms.
I want more. He gives it, licking and sucking until a delicious pressure grows deep in my abdomen. When I shake my head in instinctual denial and hiss in pain, he snarls and tightens his hand around my wrists.
“Be still, principessa, or I’ll stop.”
He wouldn’t. I’d die.
The evil glint in his eye says otherwise, so I lift my head and hold his gaze as he worships my sex. My thighs bunch as he teases along the sides of my sensitive clit. He dips down and tests my entrance. Sucks my labia into his mouth.
I whimper as he lifts his mouth away. He licks his lips before releasing my wrists and crawling up my body, nipping and sucking along the way. When he tugs his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to spring free, I writhe in impatience
Until he fits the broad head of his cock to my pussy and I remember how big he is. I press my palms to his shoulders and whimper. He licks my ear and murmurs against my temple.
“Be a good girl and take all of me.”
In one long, unending invasion, he buries his thick length deep inside me, stretching and filling me so thoroughly I forget how to breathe.
He pulls out and thrusts back in before I recover. I cling to him as he sets a steady, purposeful pace, hitting an excruciatingly sensitive spot along the front of my channel with every thrust. When he braces himself on one arm and leans back to reach between us, I gasp a breathy no, but he smirks and wedges his fingers lower.
I shatter as he strokes his slippery digits over my clit in time with his thrusts. Every muscle in my body seizes and I orgasm for what feels like decades as he continues his relentless pounding.
I can’t breathe. Can’t speak. Can’t see.
He pinches my clit between his middle and ring fingers and tugs as he hits my G-spot again with the tip of his dick.
A dam breaks and I launch into an even stronger orgasm. Wetness gushes from my core and squelches between us as he grabs my hips and groans. His guttural words as he encourages me to keep going heighten my already raw nerves, and I can’t stop despite the pleasure turning to pain.
His rhythm falters. With short, jerky movements, he cums deep inside me.
Covered in sweat, full of his seed, and soaked from my epic release, I fade into exhausted slumber, trusting him to take care of me.
I don’t know how long I sleep, but the next time I wake, he’s walking into the room—completely naked—with a tray of food. Lying on clean sheets with a clean body and a much lighter heart, I stretch and smile when my head only gives a slight throb. My hip and shoulder still hurt, but not enough to prevent me from ordinary tasks.
He sits against the headboard and pulls me into his lap. We eat in comfortable silence. I drink water and take more medicine when he insists.
The days and nights blur together as we explore each other. I learn more about myself and the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with than I ever thought possible, even though we don’t exchange many words.
Camilla sends me a few updates about settling into her new place, and I cheer her on while assuring her everything on my end is fine. She doesn’t pry and neither do I, but even though we both have things we can’t talk to each other about, I feel closer to her than ever before.
On the fourth day, I join Nico in his study and pretend to work on my laptop as he scowls at his computer screen. By his expression, he either really needs to be somewhere else, or there’s no sign of Ralf—which frightens me more than the alternative. If Nico was telling the truth, then Ralf—or whatever his real name is—has more than just ‘connections’. It takes clout, powerful friends, and more money than most people see in their entire lives to escape someone as prominent as Nico Russo.
A chill runs down my spine, so I turn my attention to my phone and relegate myself to the building for the time being. My fiancé has enough on his plate—he doesn’t need to worry about me on top of everything else.
Natalie answers my text within a few minutes, confirming she’d love to have me over for a night of sushi, wine, and gossip.
I rise from the chair and skirt around Nico’s desk. He welcomes me into his lap with open arms and hungry eyes.
“I’m going to spend the evening at Nat’s. If I get too tipsy, I may sleep over there as well.”
I don’t want to—I’d rather be here, in his arms, but not once have I woken with him beside me. Usually, he disguises his absence with either food, work, or other mundane tasks, but it doesn’t stop my heart from aching. I don’t know why he refuses to sleep beside me, but I’m afraid if I pry, he’ll just go to greater lengths to hide his reluctance.
Violence may curdle my stomach and shrivel my heart, but lying is a close second. My skin itches just thinking of him lying to me.
Of course, I know he’s lying by omission, but I don’t want the gritty details of his work. He no doubt gets his hands dirty often, but I’d rather not think about it.
Even with the memory of him straddling not-Ralf with his knuckles dripping blood and his cold, dead eyes swimming in front of my eyes, I wriggle harder into his lap.
“What are you trying to say, principessa? Are you tired of me already?” he asks.
I lock my hands together behind his nape and shrug.
He narrows his eyes. I shake my head.
“No, just trying to prevent further infection,” I say in as deadpan a voice as I can.
When he realizes I reference his words about being dirty and contagious from when I ran into him in my parent’s hallway before they changed the terms of the contract between our families, a spark of amusement lights his eyes before he lowers his lids and gives me a promising look. Liquid desire seeps into my panties.
“Then I’d better make sure you’re too far gone for a cure, huh?”
I squeal as he stands and sweeps everything off his desk before lying me on my back over the cool surface. I wriggle, grab the far edge of the desk, and pull myself away from him, but he snarls and yanks me back toward him by my hips.
He pulls off my shorts, shucks his pants, and thrusts into me. For the first time since he took my virginity, he surges into me without foreplay. I gasp at his delicious, shocking invasion and grab his wrists, needing something to hold on to so I don’t fly away.
He fucks me without mercy, praising and worshipping me through each orgasm, until I’m certain his mission is to ensure I can’t walk for a week.
After finding his release deep inside me, he props his forearms on either side of me and frames my head with his massive hands with his cock still lodged within me. I groan as he licks and nips my ears. Once he catches his breath, he stands and slowly pulls free of my body.
He hums and pushes my knees to my chest. I twitch as he scoops his fingers through my folds and pushes his cum back inside me.
“I think you’re thoroughly infected now. Don’t even think of trying to get clean,” he murmurs.
The wicked smirk on his face squeezes my heart with joy and pulses through my lower half. His smile widens as I tighten around his digits.
“Ready for another round, principessa?”
I shake my head, but to my delight, he doesn’t listen. Sweaty and weak after too many orgasms to count, I lean my head on his shoulder as he carries me to the shower.
“Are you sure you want to spend the night at my sister’s?” he asks.
I nod, even though I don’t, but after he cleans us both and dresses me in his sweats—which I find more erotic every time I move and his smell fills my nostrils—and brushes my hair, I find myself excited for a girls’ night in.
He kisses my brow and leaves me to finish my hair care routine as he disappears into his walk-in closet. By the time I apply a leave-in conditioner and pull my hair into a ponytail, he emerges in a panty-melting suit.
“You aren’t going to any clubs or anything, are you?”
Even as the word leave my mouth, I cringe at the possessive jealousy in my tone. He chuckles and leans over me from behind. My heart pounds as he hefts my breast and cups my sex through my clothes.
“You’re the only one I want, principessa, so don’t worry about it.”
I throb in his hands but meet his eyes through the mirror.
“You may be Nico Russo, but if you cheat on me, there will be no one who can save you.”
It’s a stupid threat, but the anger and hurt roaring through me at just the thought of him glancing at another woman steals my filter.
“Good girl,” he rumbles as he grabs my chin and kisses me breathless.
He follows me to Natalie’s apartment, ensuring I’m safely inside before leaving, and when he returns the next morning, he finds us in a heap of tangled limbs, spilt wine, and half-eaten sushi rolls.
Still drunk, I manage a few lame jokes as he cleans me and tucks me between the sheets, but his smile as he slips into the bed beside me doesn’t follow me into sleep. Instead, his brooding, worried face swims in my dreams.
I wake alone.
The afternoon goes by in a blur. He threatens to never let his sister corrupt me again, but I laugh and point out I’m older, so I must be the bad influence. We spend a cozy evening on the couch, watching random movies and snacking on whatever’s in the fridge, but whenever he thinks I’m not looking, he turns pensive, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t fully ignore his tension.
We fall into a routine.
My muse lies dormant for five days before waking with vengeance, but I console myself for two more days with drawing on my notepad and creating 3D art on my laptop of what I hope my final piece will look like, but the program can’t quite grasp my vision.
When I can’t hold out another second, I approach Nico. He wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head.
“You aren’t mad?” I ask.
“I’m surprised you held out this long,” he says.
I shrug and fiddle with the back of his belt.
“Will you come with me?”
“Of course, principessa.”
I hesitate, choosing my next words carefully, afraid I’ll destroy the peace we’ve enjoyed for the last two weeks.
“I want you there, but can you not look at my sculpture?”
His brows scrunch.
“Your classmates have seen it. He saw it.”
I swallow and try to explain.
“My classmates don’t count, and Ralf was less than scum. He always creeped me out,” I say.
Thick fingers weave into my hair and pull my head back.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Nico snarls.
I grab his shoulders and struggle to breathe.
“What was I supposed to say? He never did anything wrong, he was just weird,” I manage despite the painful angle of my neck.
After a few moments of grinding his teeth, he softens his grip and gentles his hold on my hip.
“Does anyone else creep you out?” he asks in a slightly mocking tone. Even though it hurts, I tell myself it’s just because he wants to protect me.
“No,” I say without hesitation.
“So you want me to come with you, but you don’t want me to look at your work?”
“Right. It’s… it’s hard to explain. I’ve never shown my art to anyone. No one. Not my family and none of my friends. I just… I’m not ready.” I stumble through my lame explanation.
After a moment of studying my face, he trails his finger over my cheek and nods.
“Alright, for you, principessa, I’ll try to understand.”
I pull him closer and rise onto tiptoe to give him a kiss.
Never in a million years did I ever think Nico Russo would become my foundation, but not only has he stolen my heart, he’s also earned my trust and devotion.
I love Nico Russo, the most ruthless and powerful man in New York City. I need him in all aspects of my life.
Which makes his refusal to trust me hurt worse. Every time I wake up alone, I die a little more inside.
I need him to love me as fiercely as I do him.
