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NERO: Chapter 61

Payton

I can hardly breathe, Nero’s weight crushing me into the mattress, but I don’t care. I relish in the feeling of being trapped under him. Entwined with him.

My fingers are digging into his bunched shoulder muscles. Rising and falling as his back heaves under my touch. Apparently, he’s having just as much trouble catching his breath as I am.

Nero groans as he shifts his body. I expect him to climb off me. But I should’ve known better.

Nero’s hips pull back, his cock sliding almost all the way out, then he pushes back in.

My back arches with the reinvasion, everything too sensitive.

“My Sweet Girl.” His mouth is on my shoulder, and he punctuates his statement by sinking his teeth into my skin. “Gonna have to give it a minute before I’m ready for round two. But I’m fucking you again when we get home.”

I’m half delirious, so it takes a moment for me to process. “Home?”

He ignores me, tracing his tongue up the side of my neck. “I want to mark you. Let people know you’re mine.”

What is he talking about?

“You just bit me,” I tell him.

“It needs to be permanent.” I don’t even know if he’s talking to me, or himself. “A tattoo.” My eyes widen. “But it would need to be somewhere people can see.” Nero rocks his hips against me, his cock slowly softening inside me. “Maybe your hand.” He adjusts his arms so his weight is on his elbows, and he can look down at me.

With his weight off me, I fill my lungs and shake my head. “I’m not getting a tattoo.”

He grunts. “We’ll see.”

When he finally pulls all the way out, I can feel the mess of us, just like the first time.

The first time. Also the only other time.

I can’t believe this is the second time I’ve ever had sex. Well, and whatever you call what we did at that concert.

Nero sits back so he can drag a finger down my slit, making my body twitch.

“So pretty,” he murmurs.

The way he says it is so genuine, it heats my cheeks.

How a sweet compliment can make me blush after what we just did, I’ll never know.

He lets out a huge sigh, then climbs off the bed. “Get dressed. We can shower at home.”

Still naked, I press my knees together. “Why do you keep saying that? This is my home.”

He shakes his head, as he tucks his dick back into his pants. And just like that, he’s fully clothed.

“It is,” I say slowly, like he doesn’t understand.

His skilled fingers secure his belt. “Not anymore.”

I drag my eyes away from his hands and up to his face. “What do you mean?”

“You’re moving into my house.”

Nothing this man says should shock me anymore, but here we are.

“No, I’m not.”

He lifts his eyes to meet mine, and there’s zero compromise in them. “Yes, you are. Tonight. Now.” He tips his head toward the half-filled duffel in the corner of the room. “You’re already packed.”

I gape at him. “I can’t.”

“You can.”

“Nero, you can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

I stare at him. He really is. He’s totally serious.

“You’re crazy,” I breathe.

His hands dart out, gripping my ankles, and he yanks me down the bed. Again.

Nero bends over me, putting our faces an inch apart. “For you, I’m fucking certifiable.”

His lips press to mine, and I must be just as insane, because I feel nothing but comfort at his words. “Now get dressed.”

Nero grabs my hands as he steps back, helping me to sit up.

The change to vertical makes my head spin a little, and I remember that I was well on my way to being drunk when I left the party. Though it seems like waking up scared half-to-death has some sobering qualities.

Nero’s tucking his shirt in, and part of my brain tells me to grab a blanket and cover myself.

Sitting, naked––squishy belly on full display in the bright lights––in front of the hottest man I’ve ever met in person… it’s a lot.

But the other half of my brain registers Nero’s hooded gaze. And there’s nothing but heat in his eyes. Heat and lust and need.

“I can’t just move in with you,” I sigh. Even if I’ve never wanted anything more, this is ridiculous.

His jaw works like he’s chewing on his next words. “You will. You made that decision for me when you walked into my party tonight.”

“But—”

He shakes his head. “The second you stepped foot in that building, you sealed your fate.” Nero moves to my dresser and pulls open the top drawer. Finding it already empty he moves to the next, then scoops the t-shirts out in a pile and drops them into my duffel bag. “I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to do it, Payton.” He growls the words.

Nero sounds so hurt. Acting on instinct, I wrap the blanket around myself and go to him. “You didn’t want to do what?”

His back is to me, so it’s easy for me to see his shoulders bunch, and his head fall forward. It’s a stance I know well. It’s shame.

“I didn’t want to touch her. Putting my hand on her hip like that, so you’d see it…” He takes a deep breath. “I knew how much it would hurt you.”

The feelings of that moment float back into my chest, and I clutch the blanket tighter. “Then why did you?”

He takes his time to turn and face me.

When he finally does, he cups my face with his warm hands, keeping my eyes on his. “Because I needed time. I needed you to walk away from me before anyone knew who you were to me.” His forehead drops to mine. “I keep telling you, Sweet Girl, I’m a bad man. I have enemies that will kill you, or worse, to torture me. And when they find out how much I love you, they’ll battle each other, just to be the first to get to you. And if something ever happened to you…” He sucks in a breath. “I’ll burn this entire city to the ground.”

My heart is galloping behind my ribs. “You love me?”

Nero nods. “I must. There’s no other explanation for how you make me feel.”

My eyes well, and I’m so sick of crying, but this is the first time…

“No one…” I swallow against the tightness in my throat. “No one has ever told me they loved me before.”

The look in his eyes softens, just the smallest amount. “Me either.”

Mimicking his stance, I reach my hands up and press my palms to his cheeks. “I love you, Nero.”

“Good.” His chest expands on a deep inhale. “Good.” I sniffle, but he shakes his head. “No more crying. Not tonight.”

I nod, sniffing some more.

He brushes a kiss against the corner of my mouth. “And we’ll talk later about you packing up on your own. Like you were gonna try and leave me.”

“Okay,” I whisper, our lips so close.

His exhale blows across my cheek. “And we’ll never talk about you asking if I was going to kill you.” His hands slip around my neck, and he pulls me into a hug. “I would dig my own heart out of my chest before I’d hurt you.”

My arms circle his waist, and I hold him tight. “I’m sorry, I––”

He shushes me. “Not talking about it.” His arms squeeze me, before loosening. “Now get fucking dressed, Baby.”

Moving quickly, I grab up a pair of leggings, underwear from my duffel and a worn-to-threads oversized sweater.

In the bathroom, I do my best to clean myself up before getting dressed. Then I remember the whole conversation a moment ago, before the I love yous, and put all of my toiletries into a little bag.

I can’t believe I’m just going to move in with him.

It’s crazy. A terrible idea. Probably the worst. But… What do I have to lose?

Nero seems as head-over-heels for me as I am for him. And he’s offering me everything I’ve ever wanted. A home. Security. Safety. Love.

It might be the wrong choice, but I’m taking it. If I don’t, if I fight this and win, I’ll only regret it every day of my life.

He killed Arthur.

An unhinged smile stretches across my face, and I turn away from the mirror.

There’s probably something wrong with being happy about a man’s death. But, wow, I’m so happy.

Composing myself, I open the door, Nero standing in the kitchen, my bag at his feet, and the couch pushed back into place.

“Ready,” I tell him, but he’s not looking at me.

“What’s this?” he asks the question in a flat, almost scary, voice.

Following his gaze, I see the empty black envelope where I left it sitting on the counter.

I shove my small bag inside the duffel. Is he mad that it reminds him of the party?

“I’ll throw it away if you want.” I shrug.

Nero’s eyes lift to mine, narrowed, like he’s trying to figure something out.

Feeling defensive, I cross my arms. “You know, if you didn’t want me to come tonight, you shouldn’t have left me a freaking invite. Which, I might add, was an annoying way to find out it was your birthday.” I lose steam as I go, my arms dropping back to my sides. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

Nero grabs the bag with one hand and grips my elbow with the other. “We’re going.”

He starts to drag me to the front door.

“Wait!” I strain against his hold reaching back to grab my little purse off the counter.

He doesn’t wait, but I manage to snag it. It’s not my usual bag, but I moved all my important stuff into it before the party.

I use the time Nero takes to open the front door to jam my feet into a pair of black tennis shoes.

I’m still trying to get my heels into the shoes when Nero drags me out the door.

“What’s the hurry?!” I stumble but his hold on my arm keeps me upright.

“I didn’t leave that invitation.”


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