And her eyes… fuck.
Her eyes are the worst of it. Not soft or shy, not hesitant or uncertain. They’re lit from within, glowing with that feral spark I’ve never seen.
She doesn’t ask for permission.
She reaches down and wraps her hand around my cock, stroking me slowly, deliberately, with that confident little smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. The kind of smile that makes men lose empires and commit crimes they’ll never confess to. She lines herself up with agonizing precision, then sinks down, taking me in inch by inch. My head falls back against the pillow with a growl I can't suppress.
“Nikki,” I breathe, like it’s a prayer or a curse or both.
She rolls her hips once, testing the angle, then moves again. Slower this time, deeper. My hands fly to her thighs, gripping them tight enough to bruise. I want to tell her to slow down. I want to flip her over and wreck her again hard and fast.
But I don’t. I can’t. I let her ride me. I let her take.
Because this is hers. This moment. This power.
Her nails drag down my chest, and she leans forward, bracing her palms on my chest as she starts to move again, smooth, controlled strokes that pull me in and drive me mad all at once.
Her breath comes in soft, panting gasps, lips parted, eyes locked on mine. She moves like she’s performing just for me, but there’s nothing rehearsed about it. No posing. No playing. Just her, raw and real and riding me like she knows exactly how to break me.
She leans in, hips grinding harder, and I feel the tight flutter of her around me, the way her body clenches every time I hit that spot deep inside her.
“You feel it?” she whispers. “How deep you go?”
“I feel everything you do to me.”
She smiles, a slow, wicked smile that should terrify me, but all it does is make me harder. “I want you to feel it forever.”
Her hands slide up to my neck, her thighs tightening around my hips, and then she starts moving faster, chasing that edge, that explosion. The sound of her thighs slapping against mine, the wet heat of her wrapped around me, it’s all too much.
I reach up and cup her face in both hands, pulling her down until our mouths meet. I kiss her deep, bruising, teeth clashing, tongues tangling, and she never stops moving. Even when she’s moaning into my mouth, even when I feel her start to tremble.
“Come for me,” I growl into her kiss. “Right here. Like this. I want you dripping onto my thighs.”
And she does.
With a ragged gasp, her whole body goes taut, her thighs trembling around my hips, her pussy clenching so tight around me I almost lose it right there. She throws her head back, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut, a cry tearing from her throat that sounds like salvation and surrender all at once.
I grab her hips and thrust up into her, hard, letting go completely. I spill into her with a growl that sounds more like a war cry, holding her down on me while I empty myself into her, pulse after pulse, breath after breath.
She collapses onto my chest, trembling and breathless.
I hold her afterwards. One arm tight around her waist, the other cradling the back of her head, like she’s fragile and precious and mine.
Because she is.
I press a kiss to her temple, still catching my breath. “You know what you just did to me?”
She hums sleepily against my skin. “Broke you?”
“Yeah,” I murmur, brushing my lips against her damp temple. “And if you asked me to, I’d let you do it again. Every damn day. For the rest of my life.”
CHAPTER 32
NIKKI
Iwake up first.
Wild, right? Me, the girl who once slept through a fire alarm in Mykonos, is the one awake while Rafe, an actual mafia murder daddy is out cold.
