10. Chapter Ten

I storm into Fang’s room and whirl around to slam the door shut behind me. However, Im abruptly halted to see Nico there, merely two steps behind me. He’d been so silent I hadn’t noticed him following me.

“Okay, Nico. About what happened there, Cade wasn’t—” I start to stumble through an awkward apology on Cade’s behalf, but he slams the door shut, grabs my hips, and presses me up against the door in one swift move.

Before my brain can fully catch up, his mouth is on mine, hard and hungry.

It isn’t a kiss—that’s too sedate of a word for the way he takes and devours me like he’s a starving man and I’m sustenance.

He presses up harder against me, grinding the rigid length of his cock against my abdomen. I think every sensory receptor in my body fires off at once, drowning me in a deluge of arousal, hot and thick, all of it fueling the fire burning low in my pelvis.

I grab onto him, digging my fingers into shoulders that are broad and sinewy. It’s been too long since I’ve felt this way, this primal need to touch, to take. To fuck. And never in my adult life has it been with a man like Nico. I’ve always been careful, choosing lovers who were ‘smart choices’, like accountants and dentists. Not lawless men with raw sexual energy oozing from their pores.

He breaks the kiss, and his lips slide down my jaw to my neck. I feel the slight graze of his teeth as he works his way to the hollow of my throat, making me gasp.

“What are you doing, Nico?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Give me ten seconds, and I’ll show you.”

“Nico, are you going—”

“To fuck you? Yes, Sophie. Right now. Any objections to that?”

I lick my lips and shake my head no.

He slides one hand from my hip to my ass, cupping me, pressing me impossibly closer. His other hand slides up to my waist, and then higher, beneath the hem of my top. The friction of the pads of his fingers is so good, the sensation travels down a line that seems to be connected straight to my pussy, making me ache, making me tremble.

“Nico,” I moan as his fingers trail higher, grazing the swell of my breast. My nipples are so hard they actually ache. I arch my back to give him better access, wishing he’d pinch and tug on the tight peaks.

Instead, he leans away, straightening, and then he reaches for the hem of my tank top, but I’m faster, peeling it off my shoulders and letting it pool at my waist. When Nico sees me working the front clasp of my bra, he takes a couple of steps back, his scorching eyes trained on my torso. By the time I have my bra off, his jacket and T-shirt have hit the floor, and he’s bare from the waist up.

“Oh God, look at you, Nico,” I breathe. My pussy throbs as I take him in. Muscles for days. Broad shoulders, bulging biceps, defined pecs decorated with Gothic ink, and washboard abs. His left shoulder has a square film dressing over a small bandage—a recent injury perhaps—that does nothing to detract from his beauty. The man is shredded. Freaking perfect. He looks like he’s been hand-carved by the gods.

“I’d rather look at you, fiammetta.” His eyes are dark and heated as he comes to me. He gathers the tank top pooled at my waist and pulls it over my head, then tosses my top somewhere behind him.

“Christ, woman. You just get better and better,” he marvels, tracing the artwork that decorates my torso. It’s a flowering vine that runs from the outer curve of my left hip and up across my abdomen.

Then he looks at my breasts. The lust in his eyes has me rubbing my thighs together. I can honestly say that in all my life, I’ve never been looked at quite like that. I thought my nipples were achy before; now, they tingle and throb like they have a mind of their own.

Unable to take anymore, I lunge, reaching up to curl my hands around his nape and tug him down to me. I seal my lips to his as I run my free hand up his torso, following the planes and grooves that might just be the best thing I’ve ever felt beneath my fingers.

In moments, Nico takes over the kiss, using a hand in my hair to tilt my head right where he wants me while the other palms my breast. The feel of his callused hand makes me moan even as it sends fresh tendrils of heat to my core.

When he catches my nipple between his fingers and pinches, I cry out into his mouth. No longer tendrils of heat but hot, thick molten lava rushes through me, making my drenched pussy clench around nothingness, begging to be filled.

I reach for the fly of his jeans, and he deepens the kiss, his tongue sampling every part of my mouth. He tastes like vodka and… dear God, it’s that sweet taste again. Caramel. I want more.

His fly gives, and I reach inside. He’s wearing boxer briefs, but I can feel the outline of his cock; long and thick and so hard, he makes my mouth water. And there’s something else. Two hard, round bits as I graze my fingers over the tip of his cock through his boxers.

Oh, dear sweet fucking Lord, he’s pierced.

My pussy gushes as a shock of arousal shoots through me so fast it makes me lightheaded.

I run my fingers over the piercing again and again, imagining those bits of metal inside of me, sliding over my G-spot with his every thrust. If I get any wetter than I am right now I’ll be needing another pair of jeans while this one dries out.

He breaks the kiss and leans back, turning his attention to the fly of my jeans. And the man’s a master. Somehow, he manages to get them undone and off me—along with my thong and my knee-high boots—so fast, I think he set a record.

And now, I’m naked, seconds away from getting his thick cock inside me, but he pauses, looking me over again like he’s never seen a naked woman before.

“Mio Dio, you are beautiful, Sophie,” he says as he trails his fingers along the ends of my tattoo where they wrap around my hip.

My body is still on fire, but the air around us feels thicker somehow, like it’s charged with more than just sexual energy.

Ugh, stop that, I chastise my stupid, emotional self.

And then I can’t think anymore because Nico scoops me up and throws me on the bed, following me right down. He takes my mouth again, but this time, he doesn’t linger. Instead, he rains hot, open-mouthed kisses and nibbles down my neck and torso. Then he stops at my nipples to give me what I’ve been craving: Strong suction followed by gentle bites that in seconds, reduce me to a moaning writhing mess.

My fingers dig reflexively into his scalp, holding him against me, while my thighs fall open. “Nico, please fuck me,” I whisper, beyond shame now.

He raises his head to look at me, all flushed and trembling, hips wantonly lifting in a desperate plea for relief.

“Fucking hell, Sofia Lauren. I’ve never seen anything as sexy as you right now.”

I can’t even be bothered about how he knows my full name or his use of it. Who fucking cares about anything right now but his big beautiful cock putting me out of my misery.

My breath hitches as his fingers slide through my folds, and then he plunges two thick fingers deep into my dripping core.

“Ahh fuck!” I jerk and shiver as sensation explodes in my pelvis.

Suddenly, a loud buzzing fills the room. For a moment, I could have sworn it was coming from inside me, where I’m still clenching helplessly against his fingers. But then Nico freezes and shifts. Then I realize it’s his front pocket. I squirm, fully expecting him to ignore it but he waits for the vibration to stop. It does, but straight away starts up again.

Unbelievably, Nico slides his fingers out of me and reaches for the phone.

“Nico?” I hiss, my eyes wide with disbelief and mortification.

“Baby… I’m sorry, give me a minute, okay? It’s work. I need to take this.” He puts the phone to his ear, barking into it. “Giuro su Dio, Pietro…” Nico continues speaking in Italian while the sensual haze around me evaporates.

I’ve heard of men who take calls during sex, and I always knew it’d bother the hell out of me if someone tried it with me. But I never imagined I’d feel like doing the guy grievous bodily harm. For fuck’s sake, I was practically climbing the walls, begging this man, and literally three thrusts away from what felt like the mother of all orgasms—

I take a calming breath. And another.

“Let me up, Nico,” I snap.

He puts the phone to his chest to muffle the sounds, “Sophie—

“Now!”

He rolls onto his back, and immediately, I spring up and start to gather my clothes. I pull on my pants, stuff my wet panties into the back pocket then snap on my bra.

But what happens next shocks me. Whatever Nico heard on the phone wasn’t good. He disconnects the call, swears colorfully in Italian, and then swipes his T-shirt from the floor, pulling it on in one smooth move.

Then Nico pins me with cold, assessing eyes. “Who is Cade Quinn?”

Aw shit. It suddenly feels like a bucket of ice has been dumped right on my head.

I swallow the lump in my throat, my mind swinging from boiling rage two seconds ago to chilling fear now.

“Cade’s like my big brother, Nico,” I explain. “We grew up together. His father was club Prez before he died, and my dad was his VP and his best friend—”

“I didn’t ask about your relationship with him, I asked you who the fuck Cade Quinn is.”

He knows. I’m pretty sure that’s what the phone call was about. He just wants to know if I’ll lie to him. I decide the truth is the best bet to come out of this in one piece.

“He’s an FBI agent,” I whisper.

Nico nods, continuing in that strange, flat tone, “Which division?”

“Organized crime—specifically, human trafficking,” I whisper, my shoulders slumping under the burden of that revelation.

“Organized crime. Isn’t that fucking fantastic?” He smiles coldly, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Nico—”

“Talk about a loose cannon,” he mutters, shaking his head. He grabs his jacket and goes to the door. Hand poised on the handle, he pauses as if debating, then looks back at me. “You,” he points to me, “had better get the hell out of Harmony right now and keep your mouth shut.”

“Leave? Nico, what are you talking about?”

“Can you fucking do that or not, Sophie?”

And then I grasp his meaning. Or at least I think I do, because of the pain that blooms in my chest. “Hell no! You expect me to leave my family because you, because you what…” I trail off in disbelief, unable to articulate how profoundly evil this is.

He keeps his steady gaze on me as if waiting for a coherent answer.

“Nico. You can’t possibly do that. I know you can’t.”

“Don’t presume to know what I can or can’t do, Sophie. I’d rather not, but I will hurt you if you get in the way.”

Nico has a wild, haunted look in his eyes. Anger blazes in the blue depths, but also there’s regret and guilt warring in them. But I can’t get beyond the fact that he’d think about hurting Cade and my family. My grieving family. After we gave him an outlet for his own grief and guilt.

“If I get in the way of what, you fucking monster? You expect me to turn my back on my family like Leo did and let you wipe them out? Because you hate a man’s line of work!”

He sighs, “Sophie, I’m not someone you hide things from. Why didn’t you tell me who Cade was.”

I throw my hand up, “Oh, I don’t know. Let’s see, maybe because I wanted him alive?”

He says nothing, a muscle ticking in his jaw, “I can’t protect you if you stay here.”

“Well, I’m not moving an inch. Do your fucking worst, Lucifer.”

He nods, then pulls the door open.

Suddenly I don’t want him to go. I want to throw myself at him. To make him see that Cade is not a threat. “Nico—”

He leaves, closing the door with a soft click.

The cold bastard didn’t even have the decency to slam the door like a proper demon.