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But then he kissed me again, and my mind went blank. I might have been second-guessing every move, but my mouth knew exactly what it wanted, and that was Nico’s tongue. My lips parted of their own accord, welcoming him in. He kept his touch light, one hand tangling in my hair and the other skimming the curve of my breast, but the intensity of the moment made it hard to suck in air. This man took my breath away.
Heat flared inside me, the fire I hadn’t felt since those early days with Cesare, although if I was honest, I’d been more turned on by the sneaking around and his dangerous reputation than the man himself.
As Nico pulled me onto his lap, I tried desperately to push the memories of Cesare and his subpar dick into hell where they belonged. Nico was the man I wanted, the man I’d always wanted. Now he was mine. I just had to make sure I kept him.
I had to be perfect.
He was hard already, his cock pressing between my legs as I straddled him. I wanted to rub against it, to relieve the pressure building in my belly, but his needs had to come first. I couldn’t afford to screw this up.
“Show me the real Kaylin,” he said, his words a caress. “I want to see all of you.”
I reached for the hem of my dress, but I’d barely pulled it up to my waist when he stilled me with a hand.
“Stop,” he ordered, and my heart stuttered.
“You don’t want to…?”
“Stop sucking in your stomach. Relax. When I said I wanted to see the real you, I meant your mind, not your body. You think I don’t notice the tension in you? We’ll do what you’re comfortable with and no more.”
“I want…I want to do everything with you.”
He pressed a kiss to the end of my nose, sweet but almost chaste. A sharp contrast to his twitching cock.
“Then why did you suddenly stiffen?”
“I…I’m scared of getting something wrong. Of doing something you don’t like.”
“If that happens, I’ll tell you, but you have to promise to do the same.”
“Okay.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“Good.” He ran a finger over the traitorous damp patch. “Fuck, you’re wet.”
“I’m sorry, I?—”
“Why are you apologising?”
“Because…because Cesare would have called me a slut and berated me for being inappropriate.”
“That’s the first and last time his name gets mentioned while you’re sitting on my lap.”
“Sorry, I’m so?—”
“Shh.” Nico put a finger to my lips. “I’m just telling you how it’s going to be.” He leaned in closer. “So, you don’t like being called a slut? A filthy, dirty little slut who’s dripping all over my dick?”
My thighs clenched involuntarily, and I squirmed in his lap. Holy hell, dirty-talking Nico could make me come with nothing but words. I’d hated the insults coming from Cesare’s mouth, but it wasn’t the names he called me; it was the intent behind them. With Nico, they had a whole different meaning.
“I don’t like it. I…I think I might love it.”
“Good. Now, get yourself off.”
“What?”
“You’re dying to do it, I can tell. The way you start to writhe and then stop yourself. The friction feels good, doesn’t it?”
