EVERYTHING GOES STILL.
One, single word hangs in the air between us, so impossibly loud that everything else fades into nothingness.
“I want you,” I clarify when the silence drags on too long, my cheeks heated as I lick suddenly bone-dry lips. “I’m done acting too.”
Nick says nothing and for a terrifying, indecipherable length of time, I’m sure I waited too long. As he scans my face, searching for something, I fall deeper and deeper into a spiral of self-loathing and regret.
And then whatever he’s looking for, he finds it.
Full mouth morphing into a devastating smile, Nick’s entire face brightens, and it’s like the sun comes out. “C’mere, querida.”
Something akin to a relieved sob escapes me as I launch myself at him. He catches me easily, hoisting up and wrapping my legs around his wait, a supporting arm banded under my ass. His other hand buries itself in my hair, palming the crown of my head as he dips to capture my lips with his. If I wasn’t perched in his grip, I’d sink to the floor, every ounce of tension seeping out of me the moment he kisses me.
Home, I realize. That’s what kissing Nick feels like. Safety and peace and home.
He mumbles something against my lips, not in a language I understand but I don’t think he even realizes, too lost in whatever’s going on in his head. I get it; when his tongue tangles with mine, it’s hard to think of anything else.
When Nick pulls away, I whine in contempt, the noise soothed by another chaste peck before he deprives me again. “We should talk.”
I stifle a groan but don’t quite manage to hide the distasteful crinkle of my nose. “Probably.”
Nick’s eyes dart around my face, taking in every detail before settling on my lips, a groan tearing from between his. “Fuck it.”
The words have barely been spoken before he’s descending on me once again, torturing me with a desperate kiss, full of angst and pent-up emotion and so much damn frustration. Nipping at my bottom lip, he coaxes a moan out of me that has the hand on my ass squeezing tighter.
Fingers toy with the hem of my borrowed t-shirt and all it takes is a jerky nod from me before the fabric is gone, yanked over my head and tossed aside, leaving me bare from the waist up. There’s something powerful about watching a confident man suddenly be reduced to a horny teenage boy, and there’s something hilarious about that happening all because of a pair of naked tits. Nick greedily soaks up the sight of my bare chest, knuckles grazing over each breast until my nipples salute him. Groaning, he casts being gentle aside and palms me with zero hesitation, kneading my tits until my thighs clench around him in a useless attempt to mute the throbbing between my thighs.
Nick’s rough touch and the downright feral glint in his eye is so sweetly contrasted by the gentle way he deposits me on his bed, his gaze never leaving mine as he straightens, steps back, simply looks at me. “What do you want, querida?”
“You.” Folding my legs beneath me, I rise up on my knees. “All of you.”
That’s all the permission he needs.
Rapt, I watch as Nick slowly sheds his loose black shirt so we’re both bare-chested before unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down, and I all but lick my lips at the strip show. Ordinarily, I’d visually explore his tattooed chest, studying each and every image meticulously inked on golden skin. Tonight, though, the impressive bulge taunting me behind plain black boxer-briefs holds, and deserves, all my attention.
An impatient whine catches in my throat as Nick approaches too slowly, kisses me too slowly, joins me on the bed and scoots us upward until my head hits a pillow too slowly. I hiss when he kisses down my neck and along my chest, taking his sweet time nipping at my sensitive skin. It’s leisurely, the way his lips linger on my chest so he can freshen the fading marks there and it’s purposeful, how his fingers join the party and pinch my nipples into peaks. When I moan his name, he shushes me gently, hot breath skating over my skin in the most maddening way. Gazing up at me through hooded eyes, he sucks a nipple between his lips, tongue lashing the aching peak while fingers tweak the neglected one, his hands and mouth working in tandem until I’m a writhing, panting, dripping mess begging for more.
He’s barely even touching me and I’m already teetering dangerously close to the edge.
Somehow, despite the lack of breath in my lungs, I manage to choke out, “Please.”
Nick hums and the vibration shoots through me, sends me arching off the bed, my hands grappling for purchase in his thick hair. I use my grip to drag him upward, kissing him hard enough to steal his breath, see how he likes it for a change. I do my own roaming, trailing a hand over stomach muscles that tense beneath my touch, inching toward the underwear I desperately need to be gone. When I palm him over the thin material, his breathy groan tickles my cheek, satisfaction warming my chest when his erection twitches under my attention.“Please,” I repeat.“I need you now.”
If I knew before that four simple words could bring a man to his knees, I would’ve used them far more often.
With a flick of his hand, his underwear is gone. Mine isn’t far behind, dragged down my legs hurriedly as Nick rises, strong thighs straining as he rests back on his feet but as miraculous as they are, they don’t hold my attention.
No, that would be the rock-hard, thick cock the size of my fucking forearm hanging between them.
I’ve seen Nick in all his naked glory before. I know that he’s packing, the same way I know my fingers don’t meet when I wrap them around his dick, nor can my mouth take all of him without some serious struggle. All of this, I already know.
But when I learned all of that, I was never worrying about whether or not it would fit inside my vagina. Now, as I marvel at the fucking weapon fisted in Nick’s hand, I am very fucking worried. I am a woman of science. Scientifically speaking, anatomically speaking, this isn’t going to work. That is not going to fit inside me. Not without hurting like a motherfucker, surely.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Nick growls, slowly stroking his cock, eyes practically glowing as they focus on the bare apex of my thighs.
“Like what?” I stutter as he spreads my legs, fingers caressing my skin reverently.
An unmistakably cocky aura floats around him. “Like I’m about to break you in half.”
A nervous titter escapes me because that’s exactly what I feel like is about to happen. Nick’s demeanor softens, the playful arrogance melting away as he plants hand on either side of my head and hovers over me. “Do you wanna stop?”
I start to shake my head, catching myself when he tuts and verbalizing the thought, “No.”
“If I hurt you, tell me and I’ll stop, okay?”
When I whisper my agreement, he kisses me gently.
A split second. That’s all he allows me before the amorous, sex god Nicolas Silva I’ve heard countless rumors about rears his pretty head, and I am ruined.
Something wicked twists Nick’s features in a terrifying yet endearing and most definitely attractive way and I just know; I’m so fucking in for it.
“I promise, querida,” he hums against my neck as he begins a downward journey, his breath scorching against my stomach as he continues, “I’ll make it so good for you. Been waiting too long not to.”
Propping myself up on weak elbows, I watch with bated breath as his tongue lashes, his teeth scrape, his lips suck. Right as he gets exactly where I want him, where I need him, he pauses. “You already wet for me, Amelia?” I don’t have to answer; he finds out himself, an almost pained noise ripping from him. “Course you are.” He kisses the inside of my thigh. “Always so wet for me.”
Nick doesn’t make me beg again. He wastes no more time, pushing two fingers inside of me and plucking every intelligible thought from my head as he crooks them just right. At the same time, his lips lock around my clit, sucking with a ferocity that matches the movements of his hand, and Jesus fucking Christ, I think I’m going to die.
When a third finger breaches me, rubbing against the sensitive patch inside me that has me gasping for breath and my legs shaking uncontrollably, my head drops back, my eyes screwing shut. I need to block at least one stimulant before I fucking explode—the relentless sight of him is too much for me to handle.
Nick disagrees.
A hand wraps around my throat and yanks my head upward, grip tight enough that I couldn’t escape if I wanted to, ensuring I have a perfect view of everything he’s doing to me. And if his silent command to watch wasn’t clear enough, he all but growls, “Eyes on me, querida.”
It might be the words, it might be the quick, tight circles his tongue draws around my clit, but regardless of the cause, I shatter. An utterly ruining orgasm tears through me, a silent scream aching in my throat, and the sensation is made all the richer by the fact Nick never shifts his gaze from mine.
A minute, maybe two, passes before he finally allows my body to collapse like it desperately wants to, and he only does so because he finds a better use for his hand. With a bruising grip on my ass cheeks, he lifts me closer to his mouth, giving himself better access and driving me to the brink again before I’ve recovered from the last fall. My nails dig into his scalp as he keeps going and going and going, offering me release after sweet release, pausing only to whisper how perfect I am, how good I am, asking for more and taking it until I beg him to stop.
I draw in a shaky, quivering breath when he finally relents, kissing his way back up my body, and I watch in a daze as he licks his glossy lips clean, the corners quirked devilishly.
That wasn’t even the main event and I’m exhausted yet somehow, I power through. Call it horny determination, or being dick-notized. I push at him until he lifts off me slightly, balancing on one elbow as I stretch toward the bedside table, wrenching open the drawer I suspect houses condoms, and rightfully so. With shaky hands, I pass one to Nick, and I can’t tell if it’s comforting or petrifying that he’s shaking too as he rips open the condom and sheathes himself quickly. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure about anything in my life than I am about this. About him.
Powerful bravado abruptly vanishing, Nick drops his forehead to mind, his voice full of hesitant hope that makes my heart surge. “This is it, okay? No more rules. No more secrets. No going back.”
I arch to brush our lips together, hating myself for ever giving him a reason to doubt. “I know.”
Nick adjusts himself, the blunt way his cock nudges my entrance so wildly contrasting to the reverent way he cups the slope of my neck. “Mine?”
Wrapping my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck, I urge him closer, and we gasp in unison when he slips inside me ever so slightly. “Yours.”
It’s a testament to his restraint, how slowly he enters me. Agonizing slowly, to the point where I can’t tell if the tingling pain stems from the overwhelming stretch of my pussy trying to accommodate his fucking giant cock or if it’s an intense ache for more.
Gritting my teeth, I dig my heels into his lower back, and we moan together when he finally fills me completely.
“Fuck.” His head drops to the crook of my neck, his lips brushing my collarbone. “Fucking ruined me, beautiful girl.”
Sweet words and a couple of slow, testing thrusts are the gentle introduction to what I can only describe as blissfully brutal. Nick pounds into me, every thrust relentless and powerful and reaching deeper than I knew possible, hitting unexplored fucking territory. Bowing off the bed, I close the minuscule distance between us, my nipples grazing his chest and creating more stimulation than I can handle.
I’ve never been a particularly noisy lover. The occasional moan and whimper, sure. But screaming and crying and cursing like I’m doing now? No, that’s brand new and reserved solely for Nick.
I’m fucking loud, as loud as the headboard banging against the wall, as loud as the dirty, sloppy sound of Nick slamming into me relentlessly. It’s all too loud but when I turn my head to muffle at least one of the obscene noises we’re creating in a pillow, the hand on my neck yanks me straight again. “Don’t you dare.”
Strangled words leave me with a sob, “Someone could hear us.”
“I don’t give a fuck. Let them hear. Want everyone in this house to know how good I fuck my girl.”
“Oh, God.”
“Boa menina.” Quicker and quicker he trusts, louder and louder I get, and when a calloused thumb rubs my clit punishingly, I’m a goner. “You gonna come for me, querida?”
I am. I do. Downright violently, thrashing beneath him like a wild animal. My pussy squeezing and spasming around Nick brings him to his own release and the force of him coming sparks a whole new round of tremors within me, leaving the two of us breathless, groaning, destroyed messes.
Breathing heavily, Nick collapses on top of me, trying to catch his weight so he doesn’t crush me completely but I don’t let him. I like him crushing me. I like being smothered by his heat and surrounded by the smell of him.
I like feeling safe.
