I ZIP UP THE SUITCASE, all packed and ready for the morning flight to Monaco. Nico sits on the bed, talking on the phone when I straddle him, running my fingers down from his chin to his zipper and back.
He’s been tiptoeing around me for two weeks, giving me time and space to process what Jake did. While I was glad at first, I’m not anymore.
Every day the invisible line he drew introduces more doubts. He kisses me like there’ll be no tomorrow. He holds me close whenever I’m within reach. He acts the same, but he hasn’t touched me the way I need him to.
And I really do need him in. Not just to reassure myself that we’re fine. That the clip he saw hasn’t changed anything, but also because every touch of his hands on me nearly tips me over. I miss him. I miss seeing his hooded eyes, feeling the heat radiating off his big body, and watching him come undone.
“I’ll call you back,” he tells whoever’s on the other side of the line and cuts the call. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“Nothing.” I lean in for a kiss, sweeping my tongue along the seam of his mouth, then in, tasting, teasing.
He weaves his fingers in my hair, matching my rhythm but not taking control like he did many times before.
“You’ve been a ten for a long time, but you’re losing points,” I whisper, knotting my fingers on the nape of his neck. “Kiss me like you mean it.”
He grips me hard, stopping me in place when I circle my hips, grinding into him. “Not yet.”
“Why?”
“It’s too soon. Don’t rush this.”
“I’m not rushing. I want you to treat me the way you did before. I need to know you still want me.”
“I do.” He flips me over, hanging over me as he rests his weight on his elbows. “Of course, I want you, baby. Nothing changed, but—”
“Prove it. Show me you still want me. I don’t need time. I had enough, Nico. I need you. In. Please… I want you in.”
He leans over me, staring so intently it feels like he’s trying to read my mind like he can pull my thoughts out of my head if he tries hard enough.
“I want a taste first,” he finally says, pushing me further up the bed. “Stop me if—”
“I won’t. Please… I need you to take me the way you always do. Don’t change anything.”
He stops pulling my panties down my legs and looks up, studying me for another long, tense moment like he’s looking for something he lost. Whatever he finds seems to satisfy him because he slides my panties off, throws the white scrap of lace over his shoulder, and dips his head, spreading me with his thumbs.
The first slow, thorough lick of his tongue has me fisting the sheets with a soft moan. It’s been too long.
“Good girl,” he whispers, gripping my ass, and licks again, bottom to top like he’s trying to drive me wild with need. “Fuck… you’re so sweet, baby. I missed this.”
I missed this, too. The cramps in my abdomen, the sinking feeling, the closeness, and bursts of endorphins. My hips arch off the bed, and I clamp my thighs around his head, keeping him in place. Nico slips a finger inside, hitting my G spot a few times before the orgasm hits, zapping my nerve endings like a tiny earthquake.
“One,” he utters against me. “I want at least five, Mia. There’s nothing I like more than seeing you come.”
He crawls over me, pulls a condom out of the bedside cabinet, and gets in position, looking down, searching my face again before the first urgent thrust scoots me up the bed.
“I missed you.” He hovers above me, resting his weight on one elbow while his other hand holds my neck.
“I missed you too,” I utter, the words a breathless staccato when his thrusts gain pace and I wrap my legs around his waist. “Oh, God…”
The chant repeats through my lips for half an hour.
Nico’s relentless. He’s changing positions every few minutes like he wants to make up for all the lost time in one sitting. He’s trying to be his usual controlling self, but his touch is more tender. His tone is softer when he orders me around.
Still, he reads my body perfectly and doesn’t hold back.
“Again,” he demands, after four orgasms, maneuvering me onto my tummy. “One more, Mia.” He cuffs my wrists behind my back, driving deep inside me, every thrust hitting the right spot with measured precision. “Focus, baby. Give me one more.”
I don’t have to focus. The orgasm is right there within my grasp, but I’m fighting it because I’m sure I’ll pass out if I come again. I’m already seeing double and feel like I’m floating ten inches above the bed.
“I don’t think I can.”
Nico grips my jaw, turning my head to the side. “Had enough?” he asks, but he’s not slowing down, burying himself in me over and over again.
“Um…”
“Don’t um me. Big girl words.” He digs his fingers into my waist, using my body as leverage, and plunges even deeper. The unforgiving pace of his hips rocking back and forth doesn’t falter. “Say the word.” I feel his forehead rest on the back of my head, his chest heaving, his body on fire against mine. “What’s your safe word, baby? Say it, and I’ll let you rest.”
Instead of red, a moan flies past my lips.
I stop fighting. I’m exhausted but nowhere near ready to use the safe word. I’m not in pain. Far from it, and I love that he’s not acting like I’m fragile.
I love the possessiveness radiating off his every touch.
“I didn’t think so,” he breathes, laying my cheek on the pillow. “Again, Mia. One more.”
And when I give in to the orgasm pressing in on me from all sides, my senses stop working, and there’s just the overpowering pleasure coursing through me. My eyes flash with white spots, my body spasms, and my lips part, but I can’t hear the sounds I’m making while everything tightens and releases inside me.
“Good girl,” Nico says in the shell of my ear, his cock swelling as he comes with me. A few long, delirious seconds pass before I faintly register he’s slowly pulling out. “That was beautiful, baby. Tired?” He flips me over, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“I can’t move,” I whisper, my eyes closed. “I’m so weak…”
He kisses me again, getting out of bed. How does he have the energy to move? I’m pretty sure I won’t get out of bed in time to catch the flight tomorrow.
“Open those pretty emeralds,” he says, spreading my legs and pressing a warm washcloth to my pussy.
“You wore a condom,” I remind him. “Why—?”
“Does it feel nice?”
I peek a little and then a little more when I see the smile on his lips. I don’t think I’ll ever get over how mesmerizing he looks when he smiles.
“Yes.”
“That’s why.” He pulls me under the sheets, tucking me against his side, my head in the crook of his neck, one leg sprawled across his thighs, washcloth still in place. “Comfortable?” he asks, grabbing my book from the nightstand.
He just made me come five times.
My butt is sore from the spanking, and my legs won’t hold my weight for a while, but here he is, flipping the pages until he lands on chapter seven.
“There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it: a Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head,” he reads quietly, holding the book in one hand while the other ghosts the line of my spine.
“I’ll never let you go,” I whisper, kissing his neck. “Never. I love you so much.”
He stamps a kiss on the top of my head. “I love you more. Now, quiet. It’s about to get interesting.”
“How would you know? You said you never read this.”
“I haven’t, but you’re pumping your hand around my bicep, so I know you’re excited.” He pulls me in closer, resting his cheek on my hair. “The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at one corner of it: ‘No room! No room!’ they cried out when they saw Alice coming. ‘There’s plenty of room!’ said Alice indignantly, and she sat down in a large armchair at one end of the table.”
