Nicolo stands at the dresser, one hand braced against it like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. Shoulders tense. Head bowed. Like he’s trying to hold himself back with sheer will.
But I see the tremble in his fingers. The way his chest heaves—once, twice—before he finally turns around. When his eyes land on me, the world goes dark. They’re not forest green anymore. They’re obsidian. Void. Starless.
“You don’t know what you’ve done,” he says, low and quiet.
But it’s not a warning. It’s more of a plea.
I walk toward him anyway. The rain pelts against the windows, the storm raging with a vengeance, but in here, all I feel ishim. His heat. His hunger. His breaking point.
“I do,” I whisper. “I’m not a child.”
“No,” he snaps, closing the space between us in two long strides.
His hand shoots out—not to push me away, but topull me in. His fingers wrap around my wrist, firm but not cruel, and yank me deeper into the room.
“But you don’t understand what happens once I start.”
He’s breathing hard. His thumb strokes my pulse like he’s counting seconds, watching me for any flinch of doubt.
He won’t find any.
“I want you,” I whisper. “All of it. All of you.”
That’s when he lets go…only to shove me backward. I stumble until the backs of my knees hit the bed. I fall onto it, the mattress dipping beneath me, and he follows. Slow, towering, furious in his restraint. His hand grips my chin, angling my face up to him.
“I need to hear you say it again,” he growls. “Do you know what you’re asking for?”
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I want you,” I whisper, heat rushing to my throat. “I want you to ruin me.”
He snarls, something primal breaking loose behind his teeth, and then he’sonme. His mouth crashes onto mine, all teeth and hunger and heat. His hands are already under the nightgown, rough palms skating over my thighs. I moan into his kiss when he tears the fabric up and over my hips, exposing me fully beneath him.
“No underwear?” he murmurs darkly against my throat. “You planned this.”
“You want this just as much as I do,” I breathe, fingers fisting his shirt. “I just came knocking at the right time.”
His laugh is low and dangerous. “Little brat.”
Then he drops to his knees in front of the bed and drags me to the edge, my legs falling open for him.
“I told you I’d ruin you,” he mutters, kissing the inside of my knee. “And you said yes.”
His breath ghosts over my cunt—hot, deliberate—and I jerk in response. Then his mouth ison me. No teasing. No hesitation. Just his tongue and the filthy, wet, hungry sounds that echo obscenely in the room. He devours me like a man starving, like he’s trying to erase every trace of anyone else.
My back arches. “Nicolo…”
“Louder,” he growls against me. “I want to hear you scream my name.”
He sucks my clit into his mouth, and Ido. I cry out, hips bucking, legs trembling against his shoulders. He holds me down with one arm across my stomach while the other hand grips my thigh, keeping me spread open for him. His tongue circles and flicks anddrives, and I’m already so close, I feel tears sting my eyes.
“Nicolo…please…I’m…”
“Come for me,” he murmurs, voice low and lethal against my pussy. “Let me taste it.”
I break. The orgasm rips through me like a lightning strike: sudden and savage. My thighs clamp around his head and I let out a scream, one hand clutching the sheets, the other buried in his hair.
