8. Chapter Eight

Nico’s kiss doesnt come as a surprise; after all, he’s been giving me heated looks and acting like I’ve been doing a slow striptease for him from the moment we got off the plane.

The way he kisses doesn’t surprise me either. Its hard and dominant. Like he was born and trained to do it.

It’s the way I’m reacting to it that throws me, kissing him back with a fervor that shocks me. I would blame it on being in the Druid’s Clubhouse, a place that somehow drains you of all your inhibitions. Or perhaps it’s the fact that Nico is kissing me like he wants to devour me, his tongue boldly tangling with mine in a rhythm that’s too tantalizing not to follow.

He tastes good. Wild. Mint and something sweet, like caramel. It’s a blend I don’t think I’ll ever forget. It feels like it’s already branding itself into my senses.

I push my fingers into his hair, loving the way the silky strands slip through my fingers so much that I start to pull. He groans, then deepens the kiss, pinning me to the wall with his pelvis and wrapping his hands around my jaw to hold me steady while his tongue repeatedly fucks my mouth.

I moan in pleasure and surrender, my drenched core starting to ache. I can’t resist grinding on his rock-hard length—and dear God, it is a lot of length—as it pulses against my lower belly. Without thinking, I hook my leg around him, sighing when his erection hits me square between my denim-covered thighs. I don’t realize how much I’m writhing against him until he tears his mouth away from me and curses.

“Christ, Sophie, you’re so fucking greedy.”

The way he says it drives my arousal to new insane heights, and if anything, makes me writhe against him more. My skin feels too hot, and the insistent ache between my legs is getting unbearable. I need to come, badly.

He licks a path down my neck while his big palm slides lower to cup my breast. He gently sinks his teeth into the junction between my neck and shoulder, at the same time pinching my hard nipple, shooting a bolt of pleasure straight to my clit.

“Ahh, Nico!” I moan.

He does it again, and apparently, that’s all the trigger I need to go stark-raving mad. It’s starting to feel like I would die if he doesn’t make me come in the next few seconds. It’s been way too long since I’ve been with a man. Six fucking months. That must be the reason Nico feels so indescribably good.

And then I stop thinking altogether when he bites me again, this time pushing my neckline and bra cup aside to palm my breast in his calloused palm, pulling on my taut nipple.

“Oh my God,” I moan brokenly, curling my leg higher over his thigh and grinding my clit against him, blindly seeking relief. “Nico, please.”

Suddenly, Nico hoists me up against him like I weigh practically nothing, and the next thing I know, I’m flat on the bed. Then like a mind reader, Nico Vitelli gives me exactly what I’ve been craving—a fully clothed orgasm.

He takes both my wrists in one of his, trapping them high above my head. Then he holds my thigh open with his other hand, fuses his lips to mine then starts to grind me to within an inch of my life.

He hovers over me, big and strong, his hips nailing me to the bed with the singular focus of sending electric shocks of pleasure rippling out from my pelvis. His smell in my nostrils, his tongue in my mouth, and his heat, oh God, his delicious heat surrounding me, heightens the sensation in my clenching pussy. It makes it all the more intimate because every snap of his hips tells me he’s doing this just for me.

He wants to get me off, nothing else.

Goosebumps cover my entire body, and I’m moaning and mumbling into his mouth. Still, he doesn’t stop, not even when my thighs start to shake. If he’d let me go, he would have heard me begging him to fuck me, but no, he grinds his length against my clit with perfect precision until my vision turns white, and I go rigid with pleasure.

When he feels me convulsing, he rears back. It’s like he wants to see me unravel, hear me cry out. And I give it to him, helplessly. I don’t even have enough working brain cells to be embarrassed that it’s his name I’m calling out. It’s too much, it’s insane, it’s mortifying, but it’s exactly what I need.

When the fog clears from my vision, I find scorching blue eyes watching me. He’s still pressed against me, hot and hard as steel. My face flushes.

One fucking kiss, and I went berserk on a man, begging him to make me come. A client, too.

Oh shit.

He sees the moment panic seeps into my eyes because he gives me a smirk, “Fiammetta, it’s fine, trust me. Don’t overthink it. It was just a quick orgasm, nothing more.”

I huff out a breath. He says it like we only had a handshake. And I don’t know about ‘quick’ since I lost all sense of time and space back there, but it was hands down the best orgasm I’ve had in a long time. Other than that, yeah, no big deal.

He stands, then pulls me up with him and carefully readjusts my top. “Come on, it’s going to be a rough day. Rafe is already here.”

I’m still reeling, trying to process what just happened between us, but his mention of Rafe gives me another whiplash.

“How do you even know that?” I ask, wondering what he plans to do about the obscene bulge in his jeans.

He gestures at the door. “Footsteps in the corridor, all heading toward the main hall, and the murmur of voices. Someone approached the door, probably to fetch you, but then reconsidered.” His lips curve into a smile.

My jaw goes slack. Okay, I might have been a little loud, but what I can’t work out is how Nico could hear conversation and decipher the direction of footsteps in a place he’s never been before, and all the while nailing me to the fucking bed?

Is this guy even human?

“Sophie? Are you okay?”

I snap my mouth shut. “Yep, perfect. Let’s go.” I try to step past him, but he places a hand on my lower belly, halting me. “Sophie.”

“What?”

He looks into my eyes, serious now. “I mean, are you going to be okay out there?”

“Why? Do I look like I’m about to break down?”

“No, but this Rafe guy meant a lot to you. I’ve seen the effort you’ve been putting into keeping it together all day.”

Nico’s observation catches me off guard, revealing a depth of empathy and attention to detail I didn’t realize he possessed.

I search his gaze. It’s not jealousy, he just seems genuinely concerned for me, which comes as a surprise. Maybe there’s more to Nico than I’d given him credit for. For some reason, I feel the need to explain.

“Rafe and I were just friends. He always hoped for more, but I never saw it that way. Still, everyone insisted that we’d end up together, and I almost started to believe it myself. But we wanted different things out of life, and eventually, I cut all contact with him.” I suck in a breath and release it slowly. “And then he ended up in prison. And then he died.”

Nico gives me a brief nod. “It’s the crippling guilt, then.”

I see in his clear blue eyes that guilt is a sentiment he understands all too keenly.

“Come on, let’s go bury it,” He moves to open the door but it’s my turn to stop him now.

“What about you, Nico? You’re awfully eager to attend the funeral of a man you don’t know.” I recall the way his face practically lit up when I told him where I was going today. It seems like a lifetime ago that we were in my living room with my knife at his balls.

He’d been planning to do something to me earlier—and given that he brought a van, my guess is he wanted to kidnap me. Yet he abandoned his plans and followed me here.

“What do you mean?”

“Surely a mafia don has better things to do with his time than to go traipsing around some back-end small town. When is Leo’s funeral?”

My question takes Nico aback. He pauses, watching me in consternation for a full minute. Just when I think he wont respond, he looks down at his Rolex and murmurs. “Right about now, actually.”

My lips part in surprise even though I already worked it out. “You care about him—his family. And you want to be at his funeral.”

His eyebrow arches, a wry expression flickering across his face. “Do they teach ESP in psychology school?”

A grin tugs at my lips. “You know, I wondered the same with the mafia and your supersonic hearing. But no, I just have a knack for reading between the lines.”

“Yeah, and such humility, too,” he teases.

A soft laugh escapes me. “It’s one of my many virtues.”

And then I can’t resist digging deeper since we’re on the subject of guilt. “Leo betrayed you, didn’t he? You loved him, yet as his Don, you can’t be seen at his funeral. To acknowledge how fucked up it is, being duty-bound to…” I trail off as something awful occurs to me. “Did you kill him?”

Suddenly Nico’s whole demeanor changes. He becomes cold and distant. Even his eyes appear to have frozen over. Disregarding my insight, he flings the door open. “After you.”

I immediately regret pushing, “Wait, Nico, I’m sorry, I had no right to probe—”

He growls softly, “Si, he betrayed me. But you, Sophie Kellan,” He shakes his head in what looks like profound regret. “You know far too much.”

My heart pounds with the unspoken meaning behind those words. Funny, I always thought my mouth could get me out of any trouble, but now it seems it’s doing the opposite. I rush to clarify.

“I only guessed it because what happened to Leo is exactly what would happen to any Reaper Druid brother who turned coat or became a rat.”

“I understand,” he says, but his eyes remain cold, “Go.”

Oh shit.I’ve never seen Nico like this. “Are you not coming?”

“Ill be right there,” he assures.

I step into the hallway and walk, feeling Nico’s moody presence several steps behind me. As we reach the expansive common room, my apprehension about Nico disappears, my feet becoming like lead at the sight before me.

All the brothers of the Reaper Druids MC are gathered around Rafe’s open casket, shoulders hunched, faces pale, each chanting their final goodbyes.