myself. You tell me I’m in danger, that you’ll hurt me if my father doesn’t come through, and then I have no choice but to feel scared and helpless, because you won’t tell me anything else.” She was angry now, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. It felt good to unload all of her pent up anger and frustration. “What do you want from me?”
“I told you; I need to find your father. That’s all you need to know.” His voice was laced with steel, and she had a glimpse of how formidable he must be in his business.
“It isn’t all I need to know! Tell me why you want to find him. Tell me what you want from him.”
“It’s personal,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yeah? Well, it’s personal to me now, too,” she said.
She regretted the words as soon as she said them. She’d been talking about her father. But Nico was right there, his body looming over hers, his chest close enough to touch, and the words suddenly seemed to imply something more.
He reached out, tracing a line from her temple to her chin, his eyes never leaving hers. Rubbing his thumb along her lower lip, his own mouth parted. She wanted to stand on her tip-toes, press her mouth to his, slip her tongue through the opening he had given her.
She didn’t have a chance. A moment later his big hands were on either side of her face. He tipped up her head and lowered his own, covering her lips with his. There was still no tenderness in his kiss. It was all passion.
She still didn’t care.
His tongue probed her mouth, sliding against her own, exploring every recess until she didn’t know where he ended and she began. She moaned in protest as he pulled back, and he nibbled at her bottom lip and went in for more, his hands working their way into her hair as he pulled her closer.
His erection pressed against her stomach, hard as stone, sending a lick of need to her core. She felt herself grow wet as a primal pulse began beating between her legs, calling for him to fill her.
He kissed his way up her jaw and took her earlobe in his mouth, nibbling and sucking until she moaned. His lips trailed down her neck, across her collarbone. He was mapping her, charting a course from which she would never return. Her legs would barely support her weight. She wanted to lay with him right there on the walkway, take the length of him in her hand, guide him inside her.
As if he’d heard her thoughts, he pulled back long enough to lift her into his arms. It hurt not to have his mouth on her, and when his lips founds hers again she sighed into his mouth as he started walking.
He met her sigh with a groan and deposited her on the bench. Then he knelt between her legs and hooked his hands behind her knees. He pulled her down so her ass was at the edge of the bench. She closed her eyes as his hands found her bare ankles, and he slid his palms up her calves, lifting her skirt inch by inch.
“Nico.” She gasped his name, the chilly autumn air an erotic counterpoint to the heat of his mouth working its way up her calves to her thighs.
“I’ll die if I don’t taste you.” His voice was hoarse, and when she opened her eyes, she saw a fire burning in them that matched the one building in her body.
She let her head fall back against the bench, letting go of everything as he kissed his way up her inner thighs, his tongue working the sensitive skin until she thought she would come before he ever reached his destination.
He slid his hands through the folds of her skirt and slid off her lace panties.
“My god, you’re beautiful.” It was a whisper. A prayer.
He spread her legs, growling as he leaned in. His tongue swept her silken folds, closing his mouth over her clit. He sucked and lapped, and just when she thought she would die from the pleasure of it, he slid his finger into her.
“Oh, god…” She slid farther down on the bench, wanting to him to take all of her, taste all of her.
He groaned. “You’re so wet.”
He ran his
“I told you; I need to find your father. That’s all you need to know.” His voice was laced with steel, and she had a glimpse of how formidable he must be in his business.
“It isn’t all I need to know! Tell me why you want to find him. Tell me what you want from him.”
“It’s personal,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yeah? Well, it’s personal to me now, too,” she said.
She regretted the words as soon as she said them. She’d been talking about her father. But Nico was right there, his body looming over hers, his chest close enough to touch, and the words suddenly seemed to imply something more.
He reached out, tracing a line from her temple to her chin, his eyes never leaving hers. Rubbing his thumb along her lower lip, his own mouth parted. She wanted to stand on her tip-toes, press her mouth to his, slip her tongue through the opening he had given her.
She didn’t have a chance. A moment later his big hands were on either side of her face. He tipped up her head and lowered his own, covering her lips with his. There was still no tenderness in his kiss. It was all passion.
She still didn’t care.
His tongue probed her mouth, sliding against her own, exploring every recess until she didn’t know where he ended and she began. She moaned in protest as he pulled back, and he nibbled at her bottom lip and went in for more, his hands working their way into her hair as he pulled her closer.
His erection pressed against her stomach, hard as stone, sending a lick of need to her core. She felt herself grow wet as a primal pulse began beating between her legs, calling for him to fill her.
He kissed his way up her jaw and took her earlobe in his mouth, nibbling and sucking until she moaned. His lips trailed down her neck, across her collarbone. He was mapping her, charting a course from which she would never return. Her legs would barely support her weight. She wanted to lay with him right there on the walkway, take the length of him in her hand, guide him inside her.
As if he’d heard her thoughts, he pulled back long enough to lift her into his arms. It hurt not to have his mouth on her, and when his lips founds hers again she sighed into his mouth as he started walking.
He met her sigh with a groan and deposited her on the bench. Then he knelt between her legs and hooked his hands behind her knees. He pulled her down so her ass was at the edge of the bench. She closed her eyes as his hands found her bare ankles, and he slid his palms up her calves, lifting her skirt inch by inch.
“Nico.” She gasped his name, the chilly autumn air an erotic counterpoint to the heat of his mouth working its way up her calves to her thighs.
“I’ll die if I don’t taste you.” His voice was hoarse, and when she opened her eyes, she saw a fire burning in them that matched the one building in her body.
She let her head fall back against the bench, letting go of everything as he kissed his way up her inner thighs, his tongue working the sensitive skin until she thought she would come before he ever reached his destination.
He slid his hands through the folds of her skirt and slid off her lace panties.
“My god, you’re beautiful.” It was a whisper. A prayer.
He spread her legs, growling as he leaned in. His tongue swept her silken folds, closing his mouth over her clit. He sucked and lapped, and just when she thought she would die from the pleasure of it, he slid his finger into her.
“Oh, god…” She slid farther down on the bench, wanting to him to take all of her, taste all of her.
He groaned. “You’re so wet.”
He ran his
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