He slides his arms beneath me again until his palms are spread across my back. Then he rolls his hips, fitting the head of himself at my entrance, and kisses me slowly.
His tongue moves gently, provocatively, in the same rhythm as his hips paint his erection along my channel several times before I feel the pressure of the first inches of penetration. I moan into his mouth.
I clutch his back and pull his body toward mine. Every centimeter of his advance makes me ache for the next.
Nero moves in and out, sinking deeper each time he returns, and nothing has ever felt so good. Suddenly his movements stop when he’s buried deeper inside me than ever before. I blink. His warning look is soft, and I give a brief nod.
His nostrils flare before his mouth claims mine again in a kiss that melts me completely in his arms. He kisses me unhurriedly,taking his time while staying still—and when I think I could spend the rest of my life feeling the way his tongue in my mouth spreads through my entire body, Nero thrusts in all at once, pulling a silent gasp from me without ever leaving my lips.
He stops again and stays like that for a full minute, letting me adjust to the sensation of having him so deeply inside me. Only when I make the first movement with my hips does he begin to move again.
His thrusts are slow and long, pressing my walls and dragging the sting along with each entry and exit.
I don’t hate the sensation—but as the pressure overtakes the sting and a new, unfamiliar tingling spreads through my palms and the soles of my feet, I feel my consciousness packing its bags, preparing to leave me once more.
Nero’s lips and hands never stop kissing and touching me. One of his palms abandons my back to slide along my side, brushing my nipple, squeezing my breast, then gripping my hips—one thing after another—overloading me with sensations that, paired with his hips moving slowly yet relentlessly against mine, make me feel like I’m drowning in a bottomless sea of pleasure.
My lips moan and cry, my fingers become useless for any purpose other than clinging to Nero’s skin as if my life depends on it—and when the man driving me mad speeds up, pausing only at each full penetration to roll and grind his pelvis against my swollen clit until I can no longer distinguish anything but pleasure and sensation, my vision blacks out with the intensity of the orgasm that rips through me.
My screams echo into the endless night, disturbing the stars and leaving my throat raw.
“Look at me,Little Fae,” he asks, and I force my eyelids open.
I find Nero’s attention completely fixed on my face—his eyes blue enough to blend with the sea around us—watching me almost with adoration as I gasp, utterly without control of my own breathing.
And as if that’s all he was waiting for, with one final thrust Nero comes, tilting his head slightly back and giving me a perfect view of his throat—never once breaking eye contact.
I wish I could freeze this moment.
This brief second where I see the reflection of the starry sky in his eyes for the first time.
CHAPTER 19
NERO ZANTHOS
“What place is this?” Nina asks as I bring the sailboat alongside the pier of the small island. Her tan is noticeably deeper after nearly two full days of sun and saltwater.
“Our last stop.”
“That’s not a very enlightening answer.”
“Patience is a virtue, Nina Marchesi.”
“One I don’t have.”
“Then let’s keep you busy. How about learning how to dock a sailboat?”
“I think that’s a terrible way to distract me.”
Those words bring a mischievous smile to my lips.
“Help me tie the boat, and I promise I’ll distract you the right way.”
She blushes at that and rolls her eyes.
“What do I do?” she gives in despite the color warming her cheeks, and I don’t stop myself from stepping close enough to steal a kiss.
The amount of exposed skin, thanks to the lack of clothing on her body, is pure temptation. Nina is wearing nothing but a bikini and short denim shorts. She’s barefoot, her hair lifted by the late-afternoon breeze.
