Rem pulls his hand free of my sweatpants and stands. He finds my hips, his grip firm even as he’s careful not to hurt my injured side. “Anything.”
The answer brushes my mouth. I can’t help but lick it off my lips. His irises, so close to mine, go two shades darker as they track the tip of my tongue. I close my eyes, cutting him off from the emotions crashing through me. “I don’t have a family,” I confess. “Everyone I’ve ever loved, everyone who has ever loved me is dead.”
I wait for empty condolences. For the platitudes that always come. But the only response I get is Rem wiping away a tear that’s escaped down my cheek.
“Maybe it’s me,” I whisper, giving voice to a fear that’s been growing inside me for years. “Maybe I’m the problem. Maybe being close to me is lethal.”
“No.” His conviction is fierce. When I open my eyes, so is the emotion on his face. “No,bella, the only thing you’re lethal to is my self-restraint.”
It’s the last thing my brain processes before Rem’s mouth slams down on mine. It’s like we’re back in my apartment, him all around me, pinning me to the hard surface as he takes charge of the desire that’s been chasing us all night. The air around us electric, beating with a pulse all its own as we taste each other.
Rem cradles the back of my head as he parts my lips with his tongue. That first stroke is deep, heady. I thread my fingers through his hair, fearful that if I let go, I’ll fly away.
I meet his tongue with mine and it’s a dance, a physical battle for who can drive the other to the brink first. His teeth catch my lower lip, and the nip is part pain, part pleasure and he swallows my moan with another ravenous kiss.
Seconds, minutes, hours pass for all I know. The frenzy of our first kiss slows, the pace deepening as Rem traces my jaw with his thumb, pressing at exactly the right point that hinges my mouth even wider.
He tilts his head and conquers me, tasting and touching every part of my mouth he wants. His other hand snakes down my back, grips my ass. He squeezes hard and I groan, my head falling back as he drags his lips to my neck.
“This is madness,” he says before nipping my pulse point.
“Yes. Madness.” But somehow it feels more right than I could’ve dreamed.
Rem keeps kissing my neck, harder, harder until I’m leaningbackward, my bodyweight held up by my elbows against his desk.
I almost collapse entirely when his teeth find my nipple through my shirt.
“Your tits have been teasing me all night,piccolina. Time for me to get a real taste.”
Rem pulls my hard nipple into his mouth, shirt and all. The fabric isn’t a barrier to the heat, or the liquid lave of his tongue. Instead, it amplifies the entire sensation. Fire explodes where he sucks, moving in thick waves out to my fingers and down to my core.
He moves to the other breast and my hips buck off the desk.
He chuckles and I can’t care less.
I pull at his hair and relish the sound of pleasured pain that tumbles out of his open mouth.
We lock eyes and the glint I see in his is enough to curl my toes.
This man knows what to do with a woman he wants. And, God help me, right now it’s explicitly clear he wants me.
“Shirt. Off. Now.”
It’s the first order Rem’s given me that I happily obey. I lever up just long enough to rip the shirt off my head. He doesn’t lose any time, his hands curling around my breasts, plumping, squeezing, as he licks and bites them in succession.
“Your taste,piccola… it’s so good. Addictive.”
He trails his mouth across my flushed skin, and I writhe beneath him, my ass making a mess of whatever paperwork lies forgotten beneath me. If there’s any pain in my side, I don’t notice it.
The only ache I can feel is the one in my core. Rem licks the underside of one breast, growling out praise in his mother tongue and my pussy clenches. I’m wet, so wet and starting to feel like I’ll go mad if I can’t get some relief.
Like the mind reader he is, Rem looks up from where he’storturing me. His eyes are half-hooded, his hair ransacked where I’ve dragged my fingers through the dark strands over and over.
Eyes locked on mine, he drops his hands to my waistband, his fingers playing with the fabric as he dips his tongue into my bellybutton. I half-giggle, half-whimper, not daring to look away from him. His cheeks have taken on a flushed color, the lines of his face drawn more severe by his own arousal.
Rem is turned on. By me.
The thought pushes my body into overdrive. I feel my mouth drop open on a gasp, my nipples peak even harder in the cool air. My hips buck under his hands as my lower half weeps for his attention.
