“You have options. Boyfriend—or my love.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You have a gift for challenging me in all the wrong ways,” I warn.
My fingers thread into her hair, digging into the roots until I can pull and force Nina to expose her slender neck to me.
I trail that perfect skin with savage suck marks, and she gasps, moaning loudly when my tongue reaches one of her nipples and I suck hard. Her entire body writhes beneath mine, pinning a smile to my lips even as they stay glued to her skin.
Her muffled protests are delicious encouragement, and I take even more of her breast into my mouth.
She squeezes her eyes shut and spreads her legs wider to accommodate me as my tongue dominates that small point of pleasure, promising far more than words ever could.
Nina tries to grind for more contact but is immobilized by my weight. She hisses a protest when she can’t move.
I laugh freely.
“What did you say, sweetheart?” I tease, blowing cool air over her nipple, making it tighten even more. I rub my palm over it,up and down, drawing an angry little cry and a glare from my girlfriend.
“Tell me, Nina. I can’t help if I don’t know what you want in the first place.”
The words are breathed against her stiff nipple before I abandon it.
I scrape my nose over her other breast, building her anticipation—only to completely frustrate her by kissing her ribs lightly instead.
“That’s blackmail, Nero,” she whines.
“Last I checked, I have at least two lawyers. Sue me.” I graze my teeth over her hard peak.
“Are you sure you want to bring Atlas and Apollo into our bed?” she asks, trying to throw jealousy at me.
It’s a clean hit—but Nina should know that my desire for her will outrank jealousy any day, any time. I smother the burn her words spark in my stomach, and within seconds it’s gone.
“Is that a request, Nina?” I draw out the words and push aside the thin panties she’s wearing—the only piece of clothing left on her body. Her eyes widen at the suggestion, and she shakes her head.
“Good,” I say—then thrust into her without warning, long, deep, and very slow.
My movements dictate her breathing, and I toy with it, watching her chest rise and fall, hyperaware of every tiny reaction.
I stop touching her completely.
Every movement I make—every shift of my body—is focused on ensuring that our only point of contact is her pussy, which compensates for the lack of closeness by sucking me in tight, clenching around me.
My hands sink into the mattress beside her hips as my thrusts grow crueler. Nina whimpers, grinding, touching me, squirming and taking me deeper, demanding more.
“What do you want, Nina?” I call her by name again, knowing she hates it—her jaw tightens every single time.
“I want you to stop trying to prove your point and fuck me properly,” she blurts out, breathless. Her words grow weaker as I keep driving into her, making it impossible for her to think—or speak—clearly.
“Where’s your romance, sweetheart?” Calling hersweetheartagain pushes her to the edge of fury.
Nina slaps my arm, then digs her decorated nails into my shoulder, dragging them down without mercy.
I laugh again, feeling how soaked she is around my cock. The ease with which I slide inside her is proof of how close she is to the edge, even with my lazy pace.
“Enough, Nero,” she begs—and I stop moving.
“No—not like that,” she clarifies, and I start thrusting again. Slower now. Even slower.
