His gaze flashed. “Get on the bed.” It was a demand, his lazy mood hardening into a harsh one that made my heart thump against my ribcage.
I pulled away from him and crawled onto the bed. It felt like I lay on a cloud of Nico as I got settled on my back. It was too soft to be him, but it smelled like him: warm whiskey, sandalwood, and an unnamable scent I associated with sweet temptation and danger.
While holding my stare, he slipped his sweatpants off, and my cheeks grew warmer even though he still wore boxer briefs as black as his full sleeve. I swallowed as I glanced at his erection that strained through the fabric. Anticipation thrummed to life between my legs. He was so hard, and it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
My body was languid, pliable, and still high on an orgasm, but as this man watched me while he walked around the bed with a volatile darkness in his gaze, my pulse began to tremble in my throat.
Goose bumps spread across my skin as the air-conditioner kicked on with a blast. He opened the nightstand drawer, pulled out a condom, and tossed it on top of the table. My stomach tightened, and a noise of surprise escaped me when he grabbed my ankle and jerked me to the side of the bed.
“These fucking shorts,” he gritted, grabbing the waistband and yanking them down my legs along with my thong.
A somewhat manipulative part of me knew exactly what he meant. The shorts resembled underwear, and I might have worn them in front of him while he was still my soon-to-be brother-in-law.
He tossed my clothes on the floor behind him. “Were you trying to fuck with me, Elena?”
The orgasm might as well have been truth serum, because I breathed, “Yes.”
He grasped my thighs, parted them, and then let out a low curse. His gaze flicked to my face, hardening. “Who else do you fuck with?”
The words hit me in the stomach and turned every drop of lust sour. He still thought I was a slut, and here I lay with my legs spread for him? With a glare, I yanked my thighs out of his grasp and stood. “Screw yourself, Nicolas.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’d rather screw you.”
“Too bad,” I snapped, pushing past him.
I didn’t make it another step before his arm wrapped around my waist, my feet left the floor, and he tossed me onto the bed. The air whooshed out of me and a breathless annoyance flared. “I’m not a doll you can throw around, and I’m not sleeping with you.”
He crawled onto the bed and kneeled between my legs. “No one said anything about sleeping,” he drawled.
I hated to admit it, but my body loved his voice and responded by growing warm everywhere. I was such a pushover. “Nico—”
“Platonic.”
I faltered. “What?”
A sigh escaped me as he ran his calloused palms down my thighs, spreading them. “You want me to stop, you say Platonic.”
The word only reminded me of how very un-platonic I wanted to be with him.
His fingers tightened on my inner thighs as two tense seconds passed between us. And when I didn’t say a word, his eyes grew so dark I could see his blackened soul. He lowered to his stomach, and anticipation fluttered and flared in every nerve ending.
I sighed a half-hearted “Wait,” but I should have saved my breath. It wasn’t the right word, and while I didn’t want to come off as a pushover, I didn’t want to say Platonic more. I leaned on my hands watching him, and as he pressed his face between my thighs and inhaled, my head fell back.
I once said that whatever Nico did, he did it with his all.
And God, did he ever.
His arms wrapped around my thighs, lifting them slightly, and then he licked me all the way from ass to clit. Steam crawled through my blood, lighting me on fire. I gasped, my fingers fisting the sheets.
It was so dirty, so wrong, so inappropriate, but God, maybe that’s why it felt so good.
A deep sound of satisfaction came from his throat.
“You’re disturbed,” I breathed. “Do that again.”
For the first time ever, Nico listened to me.
The hot sweep of his tongue sent a violent shiver through me. A mindless haze brushed my thoughts away, leaving lust and insanity behind. I was so hot, burning up like a comet falling from space. My hips rolled beneath his mouth as he licked me everywhere he could reach.
Each fiery wave coalesced into an empty ache between my thighs, until I could only feel empty.
I needed him. In a mindless, archaic, bordering madness kind of way.
And if it made me a slut, I didn’t give a damn.
“Nico . . . stop.” I learned his compliance was a one-time thing, because as I tried to pull away, he did nothing but tighten his arms around my thighs. However, I then lost track of my end goal for a moment, my eyes rolling back into my head.