I start to move, rolling my hips in a slow grind, feeling every ridge of him drag inside me. I’m chasing my pleasure, trying to come as fast as I can, because Ineed it.
But Nico doesn't let me set the pace for long. His hands clamp on my hips, fingers bruising as he lifts me up and slams me back down.
“Like this. Take it all.”
He guides me deliberately at first, up and down, controlling the depth, then picks up speed, thrusting up to meet each descent.
I grind down harder, chasing the friction against my clit, the pressure building again deep inside.
“You feel so tight around my cock,” he breathes, one hand sliding up to pinch my nipple, twisting it until I gasp. Sweat slicks our skin where we touch, the room filling with the sounds of flesh meeting flesh and my moans. “So fucking perfect.”
Then he shifts, flipping us over in one fluid move, pinning me beneath him on the cushions.
He hooks my legs over his shoulders, folding me nearly in half, and drives back in with a single hard thrust. “Gonna fuck you until you can't think,” he promises, pounding into me relentlessly, each stroke deep and forceful, his balls slapping against my ass.
The angle hits my g-spot perfectly, sparks exploding with every plunge. I claw at his back, nails digging in, body arching as the tension snaps. I come hard around his cock, walls pulsing, squeezing him tight as I gasp and shudder.
But he doesn't stop. He keeps thrusting through my climax, bringing me to the edge again and again, until I lose count. UntilI’m so lost in pleasure all I know is the feel of his cock inside me and the shape of his name on my tongue.
“Nico,” I moan. “Nico,please.”
And finally—finally—he buries himself deep, groaning low as he comes. Hot spurts fill me, pulsing inside as he rides out his release, body tense above mine.
Just like that, I come again.
The world blurs after that. Pleasure crashes over me, and I pass out, boneless on the divan.
When I wake, the room is dim, my body cleaned up, a soft blanket draped over me. The door is locked, and a spare key sits on the table beside a glass of water.
It’s the most gentlemanly one-night stand I’ve ever had.
The only one,a nagging little voice at the back of my head reminds me.You came for this, remember?
Right. That’s the birthday gift I wanted to give myself tonight.
I wanted to lose my virginity.
I wonder if Nico could tell. If it would have made things awkward if I’d told him, or if he would have found it hot.
Well. No point wondering. I doubt I’ll ever find him again.
The thought makes an ache bloom in my chest, one I wasn’t ready for.
I dress slowly, legs shaky, replaying every second. Nico is gone, but the throb between my thighs—and the thrill—lingers.
Only later do I learn who he is: Niccolò Neri, owner of the club, and a name whispered in shadows. A mafioso with power that runs deep in the city. The kingpin of the Bronx.
And two months after, staring at two pink lines on a stick, I realize he left me with more than a memory.
Noah is finallyasleep after the chaos of tonight, and I am sitting across from Nico at my tiny kitchen table with two cups of coffee neither of us has touched. Steam curls faintly upward from the mugs, fading slowly into the dim kitchen light. The clock on the wall ticks louder than it should, every second stretching the silence between us just a little farther.
My mind keeps running in frantic circles.
He knows.
Or at least he suspects. The timeline, the birthmark, the way Noah looks so much like him it makes my stomach twist. I’ve spent six years building careful walls around this secret, convincing myself it was safer for everyone if Nico never knew.
Now he’s sitting across from me in my kitchen, and those walls feel paper-thin.
