Lifting her into my arms, I palm her ass with one hand and support her back with the other. She wraps her legs around my waist. Her breasts press against my chest, the nipples pebbling into taut peaks. As our kiss deepens, she makes a low, sultry sound that reverberates through me.
Though I’m tempted to shove everything off the island and take her right here in the kitchen, I won’t. Not for our second first time.
As I carry Sofia towards my bedroom, she drags her lips from mine. “If you’d rather wait, I understand. Maybe you need more?—”
I silence her with another kiss. Once we get into the bedroom, I lay her on the bed and climb over her, bracing myself up with one arm. “I don’t need more time, Soph. Not a single second. I want this. I wantyou.”
She stares up at me with eyes nearly black with desire. “I want you, too. I don’t care if it’s soon. I want to be with you again.” Her hand comes to my biceps, tracing the black ink tattooed there. “I want to see all of your tattoos. I’ve been wondering…”
I lower my lips to her collarbone. Roughly, I ask, “Wondering what?”
“Wondering about the tattoos I can’t see. The ones under your clothes.” As I trail a line of kisses across her skin, she gasps. Her back arches. “I wondered if there were more.”
“Oh, there are more.”
Her eyes flare with interest. “Are there?”
“Yes.” I rock back on my heels. “Would you like to see them?”
She nods quickly. “Yes. I want to see all of them.”
Reaching for the bottom of my shirt, I yank it up and over my head, then toss it to the side. Sofia’s eyes widen as she takes in the designs covering my chest. After a moment, she says, “Nico. They’re beautiful.”
I get off the bed and pull off my pants and briefs faster than I ever thought possible. I start to climb back onto the bed, but Sofia holds her hand up to stop.
My heart stutters. Falls.Shit. Why did I take off all my clothes like that? It’s too much. Too fast.
“Sorry,” I start. “I’ll get my pants?—”
“No.” Her voice is hoarse. Needy. “Don’t you dare.”
“What—”
“I just want to look.” Sitting up, she moves to the edge of the bed. Her hands come to my stomach, first tracing the intricate designs across my chest, and then, down to the ones on my leg. “They’re all so beautiful, Nico. I never imagined…”
“They all mean something,” I tell her. My hand covers hers, moving along with it. “The feathers are for a falcon. The fox, well… it’s obvious.Sine Pariis the Delta motto. It means without equal. And this”—I touch a series of Roman numerals on my ribcage—“is the year my grandfather passed away.”
Her gaze wanders across the pattern of tattoos, lingering at the large one on my right thigh that covers a bullet wound scar. “Nico.” Her fingers go to the puckered scar. “How it must have hurt.”
“It was fine.” Not really. It hurt like a bitch. But I’m not telling her that.
“And this…” Sofia touches a small tattoo just above my heart. As she looks at it, her chin quivers. “Are thoseourinitials?”
“It was my first. I hadn’t shown it to you yet. I worried you might think it was stupid.”
“It wasn’t.” Tears spring to her eyes. “It wasn’t stupid at all.”
“Ah, Soph.” I climb back over her and brush my thumb across her cheekbone. “Don’t cry.”
“I’m not. It’s just… dusty. Or maybe it’s my allergies.”
“In the winter?”
She gives me a defiant look. “Maybe.”
I’m not going to argue. Instead, I kiss her.
As we’re kissing, Sofia reaches between us to wrap her hand around me. My dick throbs against her fingers. Every stroke is agony and ecstasy rolled up in one.
