“Accurate.”
I circled her clit while I fucked her, and the heat in my blood climbed. Her body tightened around me. Her sounds got softer, then sharper, the way I’d learned meant she was close. I watched her fight for eye contact through it because Nella DeLuca apparently treated orgasms like negotiations she planned to win.
Then her head tipped back.
Her neck bared.
The mark waited under the edge of her scarf and the loose fall of her hair.
I stopped my lips an inch from her skin.
Every instinct in me strained toward it.
I went still.
Her fingers tightened in my hair. “Ask me.”
My voice came out rough. “Can I bite you?”
Her hips lifted into mine. “Yes.”
“I want to mark you again.”
Her eyes opened. “Then do it because I want you to. Because this is mine too.”
My grip tightened at her waist.
I lowered my head and set my teeth to the side of her neck.
I bit carefully, making the claim chosen and hard enough to mark without breaking skin.
Nella came around me with a cry that filled the closed bar and went straight through my bones. Her pussy clamped down, her thighs locked around my hips, and her nails raked over my back while she rode the pulse of it against me.
I lasted three more thrusts.
Then I buried my face against her shoulder and came inside her, body shaking, hand braced on the counter beside her hip, Nella’s name torn out of me.
For a while, neither of us moved.
The neon hummed.
The ocean kept pushing sound through the night beyond the boardwalk.
Nella’s hand slid slowly up my back and into my hair.
I lifted my head. “You okay?”
She swallowed, then nodded. “I’m better than okay.”
I brushed my thumb along her jaw. “I didn’t break skin.”
“I know.”
“Was it too much?”
She smiled. “Nico, I own a bar called Bite Me, and I just had sex on the counter after winning a debt fight with a shark mafia uncle. If anything, my branding has never been clearer.”
I dropped my forehead to hers and laughed.
