Sweet As Sin

42

“Don’t be sorry for gettin’ mad, Kat.” His gaze flashed to mine. “Be sorry for lyin’ to me. And don’t ever do it again.” He leaned in and rubbed his cheek against mine, nosing aside my hair to breathe into my ear. “You hear me?”

My unsteady exhalation would have to serve as an affirmative, because I found myself not fully in command of my ability to speak.

Warm and wet and wonderful, his tongue skimmed the rim of my ear. His teeth lightly pressed down on my earlobe, and he sucked it into his mouth. On my stomach, his big hand spread open. More tingling and sparks spread in its wake.

Lost in sensation, I closed my eyes.

Nico pushed the towel over the slope of my hips. Cool air brushed over my breasts and thighs, and I knew I was fully exposed to him. Curiously, I didn’t feel shy. In fact, I was strongly fighting the urge to wantonly spread my legs and point to my crotch, shouting, “Eat that goddamn cookie!”

What a slut.

And—far worse—what a pushover. You’d think I’d been living in a convent for the last ten years, I was so horny. What the hell had he done with my resolve?

“Say it, baby,” he whispered in my ear. His hand drifted south over my belly. “Tell me you won’t ever lie to your man again.”

Was it ridiculous, the sheer thrill I felt at Nico calling himself my man? I didn’t know. I didn’t care. All I knew was where I wanted his clever fingers to go. And that I’d do pretty much anything to get them there.

“Yes. Yes. I mean, no. Both. Whichever. I won’t.”

God, I was pathetic.

He pinched the flesh of my upper thigh, then stroked the sting away. His fingers drifted dangerously close to home base. “You won’t what?”

His voice had grown hard. He leaned into me and sucked one of my n*****s into his mouth. I gasped, arching against him. His tongue swirled around and around my n****e as his finger had around my belly button. Feeling as liquid as a tub of butter left out under the summer sun, I shuddered. “Ah . . . I sort of . . . forgot the question.”

“C’mon, now, baby, you can do better than that,” he chided, chuckling. He moved to my other n****e, lavished it with the same attention the first had received, laughing softly again when I squirmed, no longer able to hold back my groan of pleasure.

“I won’t lie to you. I won’t. I won’t . . . oh, God. Please don’t stop doing that!”

His teeth skimmed my n****e. He bit down, harder than before. I jerked, my hands clenched in the sheets. Feather light, his fingers brushed over my s*x, and I whimpered his name.

Of their own will, my hips flexed up into his hand. I knew I was wet. I knew he felt it, as soon as I heard the low grumble of desire go through his chest. His thumb drew the softest of circles over my c**t, and I sucked in a breath, my legs parting.

“Beautiful,” he murmured against my breast. “f**k. Kat. You’re so beautiful.”

The arm he was leaning on slipped beneath my back, dragging me closer to him, pinning me against his hard body. I sank my fingers into the thick softness of his hair, and pulled his head down, desperate to get as close as I could. His chest felt burning hot. His lips on my skin were even hotter.

“You make me feel beautiful, Nico,” I whispered, my eyes shut, my body singing from his touch. “You make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.”

He said, “That’s because you are,” and slid his fingers deep inside me.

I moaned. My head tipped back into the pillow. My knees drew up. My pelvis rocked against his hand.

What a way to wake up.

Nico’s voice was a low rasp in my ear. “You’re gonna come for me. And when you do, you’re gonna be mine, baby. No other man can touch you. No other man gets that smile, those eyes, that laugh. You’re gonna give it all to me, and me alone.”

Oh, his fingers. And his words. Magic. I turned my face to his neck and sucked on his throat, desperate to taste him, desperate to get as close as I could. My body was arching in time to the slow, deliberate thrusts of his fingers inside me. I was shivering. I was flying. I was losing myself in him, and damn if I didn’t want to get lost.

Naturally, Fate thought it would be funny to interrupt this beautiful interlude with a noise I was quickly starting to hate: the doorbell.

It rang with a chime that seemed to echo through the house like gunfire. My eyes flew open. Nico and I both froze. The doorbell chimed mockingly on and on, as if stuck on repeat.

Without removing his hand from its possessive, intimate position, Nico looked over his shoulder, to the clock on the opposite wall. He growled, and I don’t think I’d ever heard a sound so frustrated. Not that I was thinking, really. I was teetering, caught on the razor’s edge of release.

My voice was a croak. “What’s happening?”

He turned to me. Those dark sea-storm eyes were back, along with a scowl. “Band’s here. Forgot they were comin’.”

Oh. Great. The band was here. What a wonderful end to a perfectly wonderful day.

I wanted to scream in disappointment. Or maybe pull the covers over my head and hide until the morning came and I could put today behind me, like a bad dream. Hungover, mobbed, jealous, jealousy exposed, and now sexually frustrated.