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“Do you like it when I’m inside you, little fox?”
I press my lips into a hard line as I continue to grind against his devastating fingers.
“Answer me, or I’ll stop.” He pulls out, and an exasperated groan falls from my lips.
“Don’t stop,” I murmur.
“Why? Tell me why I shouldn’t stop?”
“Because I like it,” I hiss out, squirming with need.
“Mmm, that’s a good girl.” His finger finds its way back to my center, and I rub up against its length. “Tell me exactly what you want. Tell me you want me to fuck you with my finger until you come so hard you’re screaming my name.”
“Nico,” I whine. Yes, it actually comes out as a whiny plea.
“Say it, little fox, or I stop now.” His finger slows its maddening circles around my clit, and I grunt in irritation. I’m so close.
“Fine,” I hiss as my fingers wrap around his wrist, keeping his hand between my legs. “I want you to eff me with your finger until I fall so hard I’m screaming your name.”
A satisfied smile splays across his handsome face, and two fingers thrust inside me. I nearly scream from the pleasure. He drives deeper then pulls out excruciatingly slowly. His thumb exerts more pressure against my clit, and fiery heat courses up my spine. I’m about a second away from exploding.
“Say my name when you come,” he orders.
My head bobs up and down, unbidden, too wrapped up in the pleasure to deny him anything in this moment. Electrifying desire surges through every corner of my body, and a sensation like I’ve never experienced in my life slams into me.
With one final thrust, I’m thrown over the edge, a wave of scorching pleasure consuming every inch of my body. “Nico, oh, Nico,” I moan again and again.
He doesn’t stop, his finger sinking deeper and harder until he’s wrung out every ounce of pleasure, and I sag against him completely boneless. My chest heaves, my ragged breaths the only sound between us for an endless moment.
Finally, his iron grip around my waist relaxes but never quite falls away. His warm breath skates across the shell of my ear and another wave of goosebumps spirals down my arm, the echoes of the orgasm still reverberating through my body. “Judging by the sounds I just coaxed out of you,” he whispers ever so softly, “I suppose I won’t be forced to stay away from you anytime soon.”
CHAPTER 18
ENOUGH TO BREAK ME
Nico
Maisy tightens the tie around her silk robe as she staggers from the bathroom. With my blindfold now removed, she insisted I wait out here while she dressed. Those few minutes apart had been pure torture. Irrational, I’m fully aware. There is no way Jasper could get into the bathroom undetected. Despite the large French windows, that side of the townhouse is completely unscalable. The man would’ve had to sprout wings to get to her.
A rifle though… that is another story.
My mind still reels from the possibility. Had I imagined it? Or was Jasper that insane? What would he gain by murdering his ex-wife? The man is wealthy already, though his family doesn’t have the money Maisy’s does. Old money versus newly acquired wealth. I felt the stigma from loathing eyes every time Marco and me attended one of those hoity-toity Manhattan balls.
The creak of the mattress draws me from my dark musings and back to the alluring woman perched at the end of the bed. I slide onto the edge of the chair, balancing on the balls of my feet. It takes all my self-control not to lunge at her. After that bath, I’m hard as hell and horny as fuck. There’s something about robbing one of sight to intensify every other sensation. I’d tied up and blindfolded a woman or two in my day, but I’d never been on the other end.
I’d enjoyed it much more than I’d imagined.
“Stop staring at me like that,” Maisy squeals. “Or I’ll blindfold you again.” She fidgets with her robe covering more of her milky-white skin.
“Don’t mistake my willingness to play along with your little game with weakness, little fox. If I wanted, I could have you on your back, ravaging every inch of you.”
Her breath catches, and a whisper of fear darts across those expressive orbs.
I don’t want her to be frightened of me, but I need her to understand how this dynamic will work.
“You wouldn’t…” she mutters, but her eyes flit to the doorway. She’s likely calculating her chances of escape. There are none.
“No, I wouldn’t,” I say matter-of-factly. I’ve never forced myself on a woman, nor would I ever. There are some sins too depraved even for me. “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t push your limits.”
