My legs move without permission. I lower myself onto the mattress and he follows me down, caging me with his arms.
For a moment, he just looks.
I want to cover myself. Want to curl into a ball and hide the silvery lines tracking across my lower belly, the slight softness I've never been able to lose, the body that Jack made me hate.
But Nico's gaze holds me pinned.
"Beautiful," he murmurs. "Fucking beautiful."
Then he lowers his head.
I expect him to go for my breasts. My neck. Anywhere but?—
His lips press against my stomach.
I jolt. "What are you?—"
"Shh."
His tongue traces one of the stretch marks.
My brain short-circuits.
He kisses another mark. Then another. Working his way across my belly like he's memorizing every silver line, every imperfection I've spent years hiding. His stubble scrapes my skin, rough and perfect, and I'm making sounds I've never made before—whimpers and gasps and something dangerously close to a sob.
"Nico..."
Tears prick my eyes. I blink them back furiously.
His mouth travels upward. Kissing. Licking. Tasting. Until his lips close around my nipple and I arch off the bed with a gasp.
"Oh—"
He sucks gently, then harder, his hand coming up to cup my other breast. Fingers rolling, pinching.
"More," I hear myself beg. "Please?—"
His teeth graze my nipple, and I shatter into a million pieces.
Nico's already moving down my body, his mouth trailing fire across my ribs, my stomach, my hips. His fingers hook into my underwear and drag them down my legs in one smooth motion.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
"Nico, you don't have to?—"
His shoulders wedge between my thighs, spreading me open, and I've never felt more exposed in my entire life.
Nico's breath ghosts over my center.
Then his mouth descends.
My back arches off the mattress. A sound tears from my throat as his tongue drags through my folds.
"Fuck—"
His hands grip my thighs, holding me open when I try to close them. Pinning me in place so he can devour me at his leisure.
And devour me he does.
