Page 27

God, I can barely breathe from how happy I am.

When it was time for his teammates to undress for the shots, he covered my eyes with his hand and pushed me out of there so fast, I thought he was going to knock me over.

Oh, and the best part? There was no trace of Samantha. I have a strong feeling Nick had something to do with that—but I didn’t ask. He asked me to give him a chance and this is exactly what I want to do.

After three hours at the rink and what felt like five thousand photos, we went to eat at his favorite restaurant in London, giving the paparazzi the opportunity to snap a few shots of us. But we didn’t really care.

We walked around the city for hours, hand in hand, laughing, taking selfies in front of every place he wanted to show me. We kissed every chance we got. We teased each other every step of the way.

That’s how we ended up here.

Me, pinned against the elevator wall on the way up to his penthouse, his hand between my legs, his mouth on my neck, kissing and licking all my sensitive spots.

By the time the elevator doors open, we stumble into his living room, still kissing like we’ve been starving for this moment our entire lives.

“You’re going to pay for teasing me all day like that. I’m so hard right now I can’t even think straight,” Nick whispers into my ear, making my entire body tremble with desire.

He slides his hands down to grab my ass, grinding his body against mine so I can feel every inch of him—hard, needy, and barely holding on. I moan into his mouth and wrap my legs around his waist, clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping me upright.

He carries me to his bedroom with such urgency, it feels like we’ll combust before we even make it to the bed.

Laying me down on the mattress, he climbs on top of me, still kissing me like he can’t get enough.

“You drive me crazy, Ser. Do you even know what you’re doing to me?”

I reach for the hem of his shirt, and he helps me pull it over his head.

The moment his bare chest comes into view, I whimper—genuinely whimper—from how goddamn perfect he is.

“Nick, please,” I breathe, my voice breaking with need.

He doesn’t say a word. Just watches me as his hands glide beneath the fabric of my dress, pulling it up and over my head, leaving me in nothing but my panties.

“Fuck me. Your tits are perfect. Absolutely perfect,” he groans, staring at me like I’m some kind of forbidden miracle. “You were made for me, Sierra. But why the fuck aren’t you wearing a bra?”

He growls, and I drag him back to me, losing myself in him, savoring the feeling of his touch.

I wanted him for so long, I can’t believe I’m here, about to lose my virginity to him.

I know.

I know this is a small detail that maybe I should tell him, but I don’t want him to be hesitant or change his mind.

How bad can the first time be?

I’m so nervous, my hands are trembling when I unzip his jeans. He lets out a low groan when I push them down, his green eyes dark and wild with lust.

“I need you completely naked now, baby,” he whispers against my mouth.

My fiancé strips the rest of the way down, then hooks his fingers into my panties and slowly tugs them off, leaving me exposed and breathless beneath him.

My head falls back against the pillows when he lowers himself between my thighs, his mouth grazing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.

And then his tongue finds my clit.

A soft gasp escapes my lips.

He’s slow at first, drawing lazy, maddening circles with the flat of his tongue.