Sweet As Sin

51

My traitorous body arched into him, wanting more.

He made a sound deep in his throat. Without breaking the kiss, he adjusted himself so he was lying flat on top of me. He was already hard; I felt it as soon as he pressed his pelvis against mine. One of his hands left my face to rove roughly over my body. He cupped my breast, pinched my n****e through the thin fabric of my T-shirt and bra, slid his hand down my thigh, and pulled my leg up to his waist. All the while his mouth was on mine, demanding, angry, and hot.

I pulled my other leg up to his waist so he was settled between my thighs and wound my arms around his back.

He finally broke the kiss to rear up. With one hard tug, he yanked my shirt off over my head. My bra followed, torn apart and tossed aside, then his mouth was on my breasts, greedily, brutally sucking.

I moaned. This was wrong. He’d been out all night with another woman. I couldn’t let myself do this. He was using me, playing me, he didn’t respect me at all—

Nico unzipped my jeans and yanked them down over my hips, tearing them off. He tore off my panties next. With one hand on my shoulder, holding me down, he unzipped his own jeans and freed his erection. Hesitating, he glanced up at my face, his eyes dark.

The question was there in his gaze.

Once, I thought, delirious. One time and then it’s over. “Condom,” I rasped, barely able to breathe.

He gave me his weight, leaned across to the nightstand, retrieved a condom from the drawer, tore it open, rolled it down the length of his c**k, then shoved himself inside me with no preliminaries, without even so much as a word.

I cried out in shock. My nails bit into his back so hard I was sure I’d broken the skin.

He turned his face to my ear. “You wanna make me bleed, baby?” he said, his voice rough. “Go ahead. Won’t be nothin’ new. You been doin’ it every single fuckin’ minute since we first met.”

He thrust even deeper into me. I groaned, wanting more, hating him, hating myself.

His teeth grazed my shoulder. His fingers dug into the tender flesh of my hips. He thrust again, and again, each time harder and more mercilessly.

This wasn’t making love. This was f*****g. It was raw and angry and hopeless and devouring . . .

And it was exactly what I needed.

I said his name on an exhalation, dragging my nails down his back, my hips moving in time with his. I slid my fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans and cupped his hard ass, pulling him deeper into me. He started a new rhythm, one thrust alternating with an amazing, fluid swirl of his hips that dragged his pelvis across my c**t and around an incredibly sensitive spot inside me.

This time when I said his name, it was more of a helpless moan.

His hand gripped my throat with just enough pressure to alarm me. My eyes flew open. A flicker of panic winged through my chest.

“Come and you’re mine,” he panted, his face hard. “That’s the deal, remember?”

“f**k your deal! No deal!”

“Fine, then. Don’t come.” His smile was evil. His hips continued their torture. He bent his head and sucked my n****e into his mouth, and I couldn’t stop the gasp of pleasure that escaped my lips, not for all the money in the world.

Against my breast, he chuckled.

“I hate you.”

It was a whisper, nothing more, but Nico reacted as if I’d shouted it to the hills. He reared up on his elbows, sank his fingers into my hair, and said, “You’re a fuckin’ liar! Tell me the truth, Kat!”

Something inside me broke then. I felt it, like someone had taken my heart and just snapped it in two, as if it had no more strength or substance than a toothpick. I began to cry.

“You’re the liar! And I do hate you! I do!”

Nico pressed his cheek to mine. His heart pounded frantically in his chest. “If you wanna call what you feel for me ‘hate,’ then I hate you, too, baby. I hate you with my whole heart.”

I shuddered. Tears streamed from beneath my closed lids. There were no words to describe what I felt. I had never been more confused, more angry, more hollowed out. It was as if every emotion I’d ever felt had decided to run rampant at full throttle through my body.

Humiliation was near the top of the list.

Because even though he’d left me alone all night, even though I still had no idea if what he’d told me was the truth or not, even though I’d just told myself it was over, I still wanted him. I wanted more than one night.

I wanted all the nights, and all the days, too. All the highs and lows, all the wreckage. No matter how stupid or self-destructive it was, I wanted everything he made me feel, because, more than anything, he made me feel alive. I sobbed, clinging to him.

Nico whispered, “That’s right, sweetheart. Give it to me. Don’t hide from me. Give your man everything you’ve got.”

He cradled my face, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. When he flexed his hips, driving himself deeper into me, my moan was broken. He cut it off with a kiss.

Then it was nothing but a frenzy.

There was so much urgency in our kisses, in the way our hands explored and our bodies crashed together, it might as well have been our last few minutes on earth. When finally I cried out, the first waves of orgasm gripping me, Nico’s whole body shuddered, shaking mine. He slid a hand under my bottom and squeezed.