His large hands ran down my sides, from underneath my breasts to low on my hips, his thumbs brushing bare skin beneath the band of my shorts. It was a maddening sensation, and I was dying for him to go a little further, up or down. To just freaking pick one.
His erection pressed against the inside of my thigh, and if he would only step forward a few inches, it would be right where I wanted it, needed it.
I swayed, my eyes heavy-lidded, when a solid grip came to the side of my neck to hold me still while he pressed hot, wet kisses to my throat. My head fell back on a moan, my hair skimming the countertop with the next nip of his teeth.
His hips lined up with mine, his hands grasping the top of my ass, and then his hard-on pressed against my clit in a slow roll that stole my breath. A quiet growl fanned against my neck, while an emptiness pulsed between my legs.
He only ground against me once, when I needed it over and over, before he pulled back. His hands left me and grasped the counter beside my own. I’d yet to even touch him while stuck in this dream-like state.
His gaze was more black than amber. “Take off your shirt.”
Each bossy, gravelly word was a slow hum in the empty ache between my legs. The cold sense of fear snuck its way back in, cutting through the haze. A part of me needed to comply, to do everything this man asked of me. To give him anything he wanted, but I couldn’t. Not yet.
With a shaky breath, I shook my head.
His gaze narrowed at the edges.
“Promise not to kill the father of Adriana’s baby and I will.”
His expression hardened even more. “I don’t like ultimatums.”
“It’s not an ultimatum. It’s an . . . incentive.”
He shook his head and started to pull away from me, but I grabbed him by the belt loop. “Please . . .” My voice was throaty, sounding different to my ears. It was coated in thick, deep lust, and he paused, his attention all mine. “For a wedding present.”
He glanced down at my finger hooked through his belt loop, his jaw ticking with thought. After a moment, he said, “You’ll take it all off. Whenever I ask you to.”
Elation zipped through me, and he must have noticed because his voice took an edge. “And I’m still beating the shit out of him.”
I nodded with hesitation. Not an ideal situation for Ryan, but I knew this was much better than death and I wasn’t going to push my luck. “What about my papà?”
“I’ll talk to him.”
“How do I know you aren’t lying?”
“Guess you’ll have to trust me.”
Maybe it was stupid, but I did trust him—on this matter, anyway. My finger slipped from his belt loop, and a huge weight released from my shoulders. Maybe I was taking my sister’s situation personally, or maybe I thought righting this wrong would erase mine. It wouldn’t, but at least Adriana didn’t have to live with the heartbreak and regret.
Nico grabbed his drink and leaned against the opposite counter, taking a sip of whiskey like he was settling in at a strip club. Though his expression appeared as if he were standing in line at a grocery store checkout.
Now, fear rushed like an icy river beneath the surface of my skin. My breath came out in shallow pants as I reached for the hem of my t-shirt. With an erratic beat of my heart, my shirt hit the floor. The quiet noise of fabric on hardwood sounded loud and suggestive as the still kitchen air met my bare midsection. My breasts pressed against the fabric of my bra, tingling in expectation. Before I had a chance to think it through, I unclipped the back of my bra and dropped it to the floor.
A blush spread from my cheeks to my chest as his burning gaze caressed my bare breasts. The silence filled with the drum of my heartbeat.
His posture remained indifferent, but his eyes singed like paper around the edges. He ran his tongue across his teeth and flicked his gaze from me before taking a sip of whiskey. I didn’t know why, but I had the feeling he was trying to shake his attraction off. He didn’t want to want me. I didn’t know how I was supposed to take that, but for some reason a rush of confidence spread through me.
I had never undressed for a man before. The only one I’d been with had done it himself, but I should have known Nicolas Russo would demand I do it for him. I wanted to do it for him, whenever he wanted.
Grabbing the waistband of my shorts, I pushed them down my thighs, letting them drop to the floor. I sat there in only a hot pink thong while he stood across from me, in a button-up and tie.
His attention was now all mine and the thrill of it stole my breath.
Slowly, without taking his gaze off mine, he set his glass on the counter and walked the short steps to me.
“I haven’t finished,” I breathed, but he didn’t hear or didn’t care.
I shivered when he gripped my neck, sliding his hand upwards into my hair. His hold on my nape pulled my face to his, so close his breath touched my lips, warm with a hint of whiskey. Nerves vibrated deep down, because he was going to kiss me. But when he leaned in to brush his lips against mine, I turned my head.
He went still, his body tensing.
I avoided his gaze. “You can have anything you want, Nicolas. Anything . . . but that.”
There was only one way to protect myself in this situation. I couldn’t lose myself in this man, when I could already feel the pull of how easy it would be. I needed to maintain my autonomy, my distance. My heart didn’t need any more incentive to fall into his clutches. I knew I couldn’t keep sex from him, knew I wasn’t that strong, but I didn’t have to make love to him.
I couldn’t make love to him and then watch him do it with someone else. And I already knew he had no desire to remain faithful, from what he’d told me in the alley that night. I couldn’t share myself with someone so carelessly, so indifferently, especially now, after my past mistake. So I could only give him a part of me—the only one he would want—and hope I would survive.
I didn’t expect him to argue, or to even care about my refusal. Kissing was romantic in a way, and I couldn’t see him wanting to share that with me.
My hands still gripped the counter on either side of me, and when he glanced at my left, the one with the ring, his gaze turned black with contempt. I could taste his sudden animosity on my tongue. Anger wasn’t a reaction I’d expected from him, but I guessed telling this man he couldn’t have something was only a way to make him want it more.
“Spread your legs.” His command was cold, rough, and rattled the existing fear.
With an unsteady inhale, I complied.
His palms ran up my legs as I did so, his thumbs pressing into my inner thighs with a harshness that made my stomach tighten in an unexpected way. His rough hands felt so absolute against my soft skin.
Legs spread, cool air brushed my panties and I was suddenly aware of how wet they were. His gaze touched me there, warm and thrilling yet still tinged with anger.
He yanked me closer by the back of the neck until my bare breasts pressed against his chest. My breathing was erratic as he growled in my ear, “You’re so goddamn hot it pisses me off.” And then he nipped my neck, hard.
I yelped at the short pain, but it turned into a moan when his thumb pressed down on my clit through the fabric of my thong. His grip tightened in my hair, forcing my head back, and then he sucked a nipple into his mouth. A spark ignited in my lower stomach, the flame spreading through my body like wildfire.