As mesmerizing as Nico’s ink is, I can’t look away from the beast between his legs. My underwear has been wet since our potluck, this game of his heightening my arousal. And feeding my soul. Like in Aspen, sharing my broken pieces with him opens a floodgate of emotion. The more I say, the more I want to divulge. Unload every story that’s been locked up for so many years and confess that, although I admitted a fraction of my feelings in his truck, I’m truly terrified to fall for him.
But I don’t confess. I couldn’t even share my worst story. It lodged in my throat, that dragonfly forever a reminder of what I did. The damage I caused. Thoughts I’d rather not face tonight. Right now all I need is to have his skin touching mine.
And to get those boxers off.
My gaze shoots to my bag on the floor, then back to his barely contained erection. “So…I brought Shay’s condoms. But since you’re so”—mammoth, huge, terrifyingly large—“big, I’m not sure they’re the right size.”
Grinning, he reaches down and pulls a foil packet from his jeans on the floor.
“Come here.” He widens his legs, and I don’t waste a second.
Breasts loose, I straddle him on his chair, nothing but two thin pieces of fabric between us. And God, the feel of him. It took all of two minutes for him to make me come against that wall, the world tipping sideways. I’m not sure how I’ll handle being filled with his girth. He trails kisses down my neck, his hands spanning the width of my back, and he takes my nipple into his mouth. Moaning, I drop my head back and arch into him, his wet mouth busy on my body. So freaking good.
Rotating my hips, I lower my hand. The tip of his cock sticks out of his boxers, a few drops of pre-come glistening on the crown, and I spread it around. He hisses out a breath. Next thing I know, he’s on his feet with me around his waist, carrying me like I weigh nothing. The comforter gets ripped off, and we’re in the middle of the bed, Nico above me, lust etched in his weighty gaze.
He pauses. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
My throat burns too hot to speak.
“You sure you’re ready for me.” This time his voice rumbles.
Forget being afraid to fall for him. I’m already gone. “I hope so.”
That’s all the answer he needs. He peels off my thong and stands to remove his boxers. The second his cock springs free, heat spikes between my thighs. His eyelids fall heavy, the ridges of his abs contracting with his breath. Shadows flex from the grooves of his hipbones as he tears the foil packet and rolls on the condom.
My memories from Aspen were spot on—he’s Thor’s hammer huge.
“Is this the part where you tell me not to worry? That objects appear larger from this angle?” My attempt at levity falters under my shaky voice. I’m no virgin, but my body has never accommodated something that size.
Gripping the base of his shaft, he kneels on the bed and nudges my knees apart. His eyes flick up to mine, that usual liquid ocean now blue flame. “This is the part where I show you how good a man can make a woman feel.”
Then he pushes in.
I gasp, and he pauses. He kisses me so soft and deep the room spins. I catch the wave of his breath and dive with him, moving my lips to his addictive rhythm. He shifts forward, filling me, inch by inch, until we’re flush. He stays there, running his lips and tongue over my neck and breasts, giving me time to adjust. The fullness is toe curling. His thickness stretches me, every nerve ending alight. I shift my hips, and he settles deeper into my body. My life. My heart.
Like this, with him, it almost doesn’t matter what happens with Rose.
I clasp his shoulders. “Don’t hurt me again.”
He pushes up and fans his large hand over my chest. “Never.”
When he pulls out and glides back in, I cry out. He does it again. And again. More cries follow. His hand stays on my chest. Each drag transports me places I’ve never been. Physically. Emotionally. I’m not sure how many erogenous zones a woman has, but he hits every spot. Like with his game, I open wider, let him in farther. He takes his time with me, his strokes smooth and firm.
“I’m so deep inside you,” he says on a groan and lowers to his elbows.
“So deep,” I repeat.
The next roll of his hips lifts me out of my body. I rise up to meet him. Our chests connect. He’s powerful enough to crush me, but he’s so tender, worshiping me with his mouth. I grab his ass, the muscle solid, and try to force him faster. The man doesn’t comply. Even thrusts. In and out. Slick and hard. He works me over with a steady rhythm, my whispered name rumbling from his throat. When he looks at me dead on, his name catches in mine. His eyes always overwhelm me, but there’s more there tonight, our shared pasts lighting them from behind. It unhinges me.
His next thrust hits me hard and deep. “Fuck.” I’m not sure which one of us cries the word, but I arch my back and widen my legs, needing more, all of him. God, he’s big. I drag my hands up his spine, exploring the muscles on his back. They shift with each exertion.
“I’m close,” I say.
“Eyes on me. I love watching you come.”
I could watch him all day: the deep cuts along his arms, his bunched shoulders, the length of him moving in and out of me. A wave of pleasure gathers in my core, building, coiling. When my lids flutter, he says, “Eyes,” and I snap them open.
Then he lifts and tilts his hips just so.
I fly apart, unintelligible words tripping off my tongue as I claw his shoulders and clench around him. I’m an electric current, aftershocks seizing my body. His sheer size draws out the longest orgasm I’ve ever had.
He keeps moving. The veins along his neck tighten, his jaw flexing with each pulse. He doesn’t speed up, so I thrust, urging him on. I want him to let go. Steal his pleasure from me. This man is a giver, and I prompt him to take, take, take. Like before, he doesn’t follow, but the cracks in his armor show—his grunts get ragged, his breathing hot and heavy. He drops to his elbows and kisses me, our tongues tangling. His calloused fingers are rough on my cheeks. Steadily, he pumps into me, my name passing from his lips to mine. Then he lets go. His body shudders, all that brawn putty in my grasp as he thrusts and his heat rushes between my legs.
When he comes down, his lips get back to work, kissing my neck and throat and chest. He spends extra time on the flowers above my breasts. “I could do this all night.”
He takes my nipple into his mouth, and I hum. “You wouldn’t catch me complaining.”
Instead of holding true to his word, he lifts up and pulls out of me, hopping off the bed to deal with the condom. The loss is instant. To be so full then empty has me curling into a ball, the effect hollowing. I’m raw and sore between my legs, as I’d imagined I’d be, but the deep need to have him here, next to me, is unexpected. Or maybe it’s not. This has been the way with us, even the first time we fooled around. But we’ve opened up more, given each other more, and this longing is more.
The bed dips when he returns. The minute he curls around me, peace descends. We’re on top of the sheets, in the middle of the bed, his naked body cocooned around mine. And I can breathe.
His thick bicep settles on my arm. “You okay? Did I hurt you?”
I squish closer to him, not that it’s possible. “I’m perfect.”
Against him. With him. Being his.
He flattens his palm on my belly. “So am I.”
This is how we fall asleep. But not how we wake up.
Somehow I end up under the sheets, but Nico’s big, warm body isn’t behind mine. The room is too dark for it to be morning. The clock reads 5 a.m., and a sliver of light shines from the ajar bathroom door.
Nico’s voice carries out. “When? How many? Was Jericho busted, too?”
I sit up at Jericho’s name. Nico mentioned him when discussing Josh’s trial, something about him being important. I squint as if it will allow me to hear better.
After a pause, he says, “What exactly are you suggesting? That I force this Tyler kid to lie? To take the fall for Josh?” Then, “I know I’m running out of options. I don’t need you to tell me that.”
The door shuts the rest of the way, blocking me out, but unease coils under my breastbone. From the sound of things, Nico has the chance to clear Josh…but at what cost? Nico’s entire family is counting on him, not to mention the pressure he puts on himself. Would he cross the line to help? Break the law? I probably would. Forget probably. My moral compass is as wonky as Justin Bieber’s. But Nico’s whole life has been a test of integrity. The Libra scales on his back are a permanent reminder of the choices he’s made to walk the line.
He emerges a few minutes later. My eyes have adjusted enough to see his face, but I wish they hadn’t. A thick groove has sunk between his brows, his full lips flattened. He’s in his boxers, his hands fisted at his side. When he looks at me, his shoulders drop. “Did I wake you?”
I roll the sheets back. “No. I just missed you. Come to bed.”
He smiles at that. Slightly. He places his phone on the night table, lies down, and pulls me into him. I wish I could spoon him from behind, hold him close, take care of him the way he cares for everyone else, but the man is just too large.
I tug his arm more tightly around me. “Who called?”
He kisses my head and sighs. “Alessi. He got the address for that Russ guy. I might not be able to go with you for a few days, though. Something’s come up at work.”
“Anything you want to talk about?”
He tucks a large, sculpted leg over mine. “Nothing important.”
The lie stings. He’s pushed me to open up and be honest. Let him in. I haven’t told him all my secrets, and I doubt I’ve learned all of his, but this feels like a step back. Not that I should be surprised. If he goes so far as to do something illegal to clear his brother, he wouldn’t tell a soul. He’d live with the guilt. Alone. Nico the Martyr.
I lie awake the next couple of hours. I’m pretty sure he does, too. He pushes his nose through my hair and kisses my temple from time to time. Each brush of his lips tingles down to my toes. Soon we’ll have to get up and leave, but the prospect seeps through me like acid. I’ve never felt closer to a person than I do Nico. Last night solidified him in my life in a way that can’t be undone. It cemented him in my heart. But that call and what it implies is powerful, too. The address he got holds enough weight to crush me. For now, though, for these last minutes, it’s just him and me in this room, tangled on this bed.
I twist in his arms and force him on his back. I kiss the enata symbol on his pec—the sky guarding its people. Nico guarding those he loves.
Time for someone to put him first.
I trail my lips over the ridges of his abs, and his soft groans float down with me. I kiss each star that represents his family, pulling his boxers off as I go. Nudging his knees apart, I lick a line up his cock, following the vein on the underside. His dick twitches, and his quads flex. His thighs are huge, bracketing my head with power. I plant a hand on one, then I fist his shaft and circle the head of his cock with my tongue.
“Jesus, Raven.” The words are guttural, his hand pushing back my hair. “Move to the side so I can watch you.”
Pleased he’s asking for what he wants, I move my body perpendicular to his and take him into my mouth, as deep as possible. I swallow a few times, knowing he’ll feel it where it counts, then I slide up, leaving a trail of wetness for my hand to follow. His hips buck. He cups my breast, my angle giving him easy access. He’s too big for me to take all of him in, so I use my hand and mouth and tongue and throat to work him over, traveling his full length. He massages my breast and rolls his hips, eyes on me the whole time. I suck his head and pump his shaft until his muscles tense, his cock hardening in my mouth.
“Babe, I’m there. I’m gonna come.”
At the last second, he drops his head back, a gravelly “Christ” ripped from his chest as he pours into my mouth. I stroke him until he stills.
Most guys would be comatose by now, totally passed out. Not Nico. Growling, he pulls me up and rolls me over. He kisses me hard. “Whatever I did to deserve that, remind me to do it more often.” His brow isn’t creased like it was after that call, the stress no longer visible on his face.
He travels downward, tracing my body with his lips the way I did his, but I lock his waist with my knees. If I’m going to date this man, he’ll have to let me care for him, too. “Save this for next time. That was just for you.”
Shifting his body forward, he cups me between my thighs. The Sexy Beast fights dirty. “Right now I want to eat your pussy. Consider me a starving man.”
Seriously dirty and I’m unarmed, drenched from going down on him. At least the sentiment was there. “As long as you know that’s not why I gave you head.”
He grins and replaces his hand with his face.
Holy Jesus.