Chapter Twenty-Five

I have no time to react as Nick plunders my mouth with his own, his tongue demanding entry the moment his lips touch mine.

The taste of him is an assault on my tastebuds, and my monster perks up with a different and welcome hunger as the hand at my neck slides languidly down to cup my right breast. Nick roughly palms it, pulling a heady groan from my throat as I arch into his touch. I squirm against his grip on my wrists, wanting the opportunity to run my hands over his broad shoulders. Run my claws down his back. Fist the hardness pressed against me so I can relish the sounds of pleasure he makes lost in sensation.

He pulls back, holding me hostage in his golden stare, the wickedly vibrant color reminding me of what he'd just confessed, who he really is, and why I should be running for the door and never look back.

Yet, all I can see is his beautiful face, equal parts tension and lust carving his chiseled features. All I can feel is his warmth. The hands that now caress my body have held me, shielded me, wiped tears from my eyes. The eyes he swears mask an unholy beast of destruction and darkness have always been my North star, my guiding beacon.

My sunlight.

Our love is destruction. Darkness. Madness. And if Nick is the King of Hell, then I'd go through Hell for him. Heaven couldn't possibly withstand a love like this.

Nick finally loosens his hold on my wrists. I slowly bring them to my sides, my eyes never leaving his.

"So," he says, chords of lust tangled within his voice, "you have your answers. You know who I am." Nick swallows, the next words coming out rough and jagged. "What are you going to do about it?"

I tilt my chin, still holding his now desperate, pleading gaze. "I'd face all the dangers of Hell to find you, before I'd choose peace in Heaven without you."

I barely get the last word out before Nick's mouth is on mine once more, and I wrap my arms around his neck just as I'm hoisted against the wall. A deep groan rumbles from within his chest as I tangle my legs around his waist. His fingers roughly dig into my thighs, a thrilling, dark thought flitting through my brain that I'll likely have bruises tomorrow.

Nick shoves my dress to my waist, and my underwear turns to scraps beneath the handling of his sharp, black claws. I shiver as those claws graze my inner thigh, before I feel nothing except Nick's strong fingers swiping indolently down my center.

"Fuck, Rhi," Nick moans. "You're dripping all over my fingers."

The only sound I make is a low whimper as he slides two fingers inside me, and I know immediately I want more. Nick and I had plenty of time to explore each other last year, and we did. Our first time was slow and sensual. Our second time, less so. After almost a year of not having him in any capacity, I want all of him.

I want the King of Hell.

In true "Rhi" fashion, I literally rip the shirt off his back, pausing as I take in the swirls of ink that adorn the left side of his chest, climbing over his left shoulder and wrapping around his bicep. An ornate depiction of Scylla is etched into Nick's skin, her six heads looping around his arm and shoulder. Her face, twisted into a vicious snarl, sits above his breastbone, and one clawed hand gives the illusion of reaching into his chest to hold his heart.

My fingers trace the ink, and Nick shivers with each dance of my fingertips.

"This is…" I trail, at a loss for words, my breath stuttering as he continues to pump into me.

"My heart is in your hands, Rhi. It always has been."

I lift my gaze to his. Seeing my monster etched into his skin, coupled with the explosive adoration in his eyes, nearly has me coming right there. I tear the button off his pants and work on the zipper next, the sound of metal teeth breaking apart sending a wicked thrill through me as they fall to the floor. I pump my fist up his long, hard length. Nick drops his head to my shoulder and hisses against my skin.

"I want more than your fingers," I pant, bucking my hips so he gets the fucking hint.

Obliging, Nick withdraws his fingers, leaving me with an unsatisfied ache. I feel him smile against my shoulder. "Tell me what you want." His fangs sink into tender flesh. "Use your words."

"I want you inside me."

He tsks, nibbling along my collarbone. "You can do better than that."

I rake my claws down his back in frustration, eliciting a sensual growl from him but no dice. He wants me to say it.

"I want your cock," I say desperately. "I want you to fuck me until-"

My words halt in my throat as he sheathes himself inside me in one brutal thrust. My claws latch onto his back, anchoring myself to him, but if Nick's in any pain, he certainly doesn't show it. Not while he's already moving at a relentless pace, giving me no time to adjust to his size, to the fact that I'm filled so thoroughly and completely it steals the breath from my lungs.

"You're so fucking tight," he says. "If this is how you're going to kill me, I'll fucking die in this pussy, Rhi."

Nick pulls out enough so that he's barely inside me before slamming into me again.

And again.

And again.

I unlock my ankles from his back, and he shifts his hold on my thighs, looping his arms under my knees and sliding his palms underneath my ass, spreading my legs wide. The angle allows him to go erotically, impossibly deeper, and the slow, aching pleasure of an orgasm builds each time he rams into me.

My hands travel along the broad expanse of his shoulders, along the curve of his neck, before they settle on his face. That causes him to look at me, and what I find staring back is enough to make my heart explode.

Adoration. Admiration. Respect. Fear.

Love.

Each of these is reflected in his reverent gaze, in the way his eyes map every tremble of my lips or blink of my eyelids. The way he seems to consume every gasp and moan of pleasure from my lips, like he wants to bottle them up and drink it like his favorite Scotch.

"I love you," I whisper, breathless and yearning and on the precipice of crashing from the wave of pleasure cresting in the distance.

Sparks of relief flash in his eyes, so much so, it nearly breaks my heart.

"Say it again." It's a whisper. A plea. A prayer spoken softly in a moment of anguish.

Nick slams into me again, increasing his pace. Stars explode behind my eyes as pressure wraps at the base of my spine.

"I love you," I repeat before I scream and clench around him. I drop my head onto his shoulder, riding out the last of the overpowering orgasm. It barely registers that Nick is still rock hard and hasn't had his own release as he pulls out of me and gently lowers me to the ground.

My knees are trembling, and Nick turns me so that I face the wall. My earlier arousal soaks my thighs, but that doesn't stop more from pooling between my legs at the thought of what he did to me last time we were in this position.

Nick's lips lave over my shoulder while his deft fingers slide the zipper of my dress down torturously slow. I shiver at the feel of a sharp claw trailing up my spine before his fingers loop beneath the delicate straps of my dress and push them down my arms. He continues to peel the dress from my body, his lips peppering kisses down my back as the fabric falls to a puddle of silk at my feet. Nick's hands settle on the curve of my waist and pull me back to him, before one strong hand kneads my still aching breasts and the other dips toward my still throbbing center.

His mouth moves to my ear just as two fingers plunge through my slick arousal. Though they meet no resistance, I jerk at the feel of him inside me again. My nerve-endings spark like live wires, my core still sensitive from our earlier intimacy.

"I watched you last night at Strega." His voice takes on a low, dangerous edge. "I saw the look on your face while you watched that couple." His fingers move in and out of me slowly, tauntingly. "Were you imagining it was us? Did you picture my hand pressing you against the mattress? My fist in your hair? My cock slamming in and out of you?"

"Y-yes." I struggle to form a single syllable. My brain is too busy latching on to the image Nick painted, and the idea that he watched me while I fantasized about us and knew exactly what I was thinking has my blood humming.

Both of his hands still, and I want to scream at the loss of his fingers. But Nick turns me around, catching my chin with his thumb and forefinger. "Is that how you want me to fuck you, little liar?"

"Yes." I'm surprised the word comes out steadily.

Depravity laces the curve of his mouth. "Come here."

Nick tugs me by my wrist, and I follow him to a large chaise the color of rich burgundy. I take a moment to admire the perfectly honed muscles of his bronzed back, before my gaze snakes lower to his tanned and toned backside. He cuts through the room like a panther, sleek and powerful, ready to devour its prey. To devour me. I smirk, pulling my bottom lip to my teeth.

All of that is mine.

"Get on your hands and knees," he commands from behind me, hand trailing down the curve of my ass.

I go to step out of my heels, but Nick stops me.

"Those stay on." The lush, commanding tone settles right between my legs.

I do as he says without hesitation, my blood buzzing with thousands of electrical currents. The plush velvet material is soft beneath my knees and even softer once I flatten my palms on the cushion. My pulse thrums in my ears, jumping into overdrive at the way I'm exposed to him in this position.

When Nick doesn't make a move behind me, I peer at him over my shoulder, and my lips part in an illicit gasp at the expression of raw, carnal desire on his face as he takes in the view of me spread wide for him.

"Keep looking at me like that," he warns in a savage tone, "and I'll fuck you so hard you'll beg me for mercy."

I can't help the taunting tilt of my lips. "Isn't that the idea?"

Black encompasses the gold of his eyes. "That fucking mouth. "

Without warning, Nick is behind me, thrusting into me in one punishing go. If I thought I was sensitive before, the feel of him inside me again, filling me up so thoroughly from this angle, has me nearly bucking away from him.

Nick's hand whips out and fists my hair, keeping me place. "Don't you dare move." He tugs, my neck and back curving with the movement, and leans over me. "You can take it."

And before I can summon a coherent response, I feel Nick's hand at the back of my skull before I'm shoved face first into the cushion and slammed into from behind.

The cushion muffles my screams, and Nick eases the pressure of his hand so I can turn my face to the side. His fingers collar the nape of my neck, pinning me to the chaise while he sets an unforgiving pace behind me.

"Oh fuck, " I mewl. My fingers dig into the cushion, my claws threatening to emerge. A small part of me is terrified of ruining what I'm sure is a very expensive piece of furniture, but the primal urge to tear through the fabric the way Nick is currently tearing through my body trumps that part.

Fuck it. I lose myself to his savage thrusts and rake my claws through the material.

A dark chuckle rumbles from his throat, and his own claws dig into my hip, the sharp sting reverberating through me like a shot of heroin .

"Nick, " I cry out when he reaches between my legs and massages my clit.

"That's it, little liar. Scream my fucking name."

Sensation overwhelms every inch of me until I'm lost in the obscene symphony of flesh slapping flesh, breathy moans, and my own carnal screams of pleasure.

My previous orgasm was a slow mounting wave, rising higher and higher in the distance until it swept me under.

This one's a fucking tsunami.

It crashes into me with the force of a wrecking ball, knocking the breath from my lungs and the strength from my limbs. I come with a wordless cry, my claws shredding more of the chaise cushion.

Nick follows soon after, muttering his own slew of curses before he comes with a loud groan and drapes himself over my back. We remain together for a moment longer as he nuzzles my neck, and I use that time to catch my breath.

I don't know how long we stay like that, but the emptiness I feel when Nick slides out of me is jarring. With one arm still wrapped around my waist, Nick gently pulls me upright and turns me so that I'm enveloped in his arms before he falls back on the chaise .

I lay across his chest, his strong arms draped over me, cocooning me in a mass of bare skin and muscles. The warmth of both of our bodies affords us the opportunity to lie comfortably naked with no need for a blanket.

Nick's fingers come beneath my chin, causing me to look up at him. For the first time since I shattered his heart last year, I catch a glimpse of the rakish boy I met in the school's hallway. The boy with the glowing smile and playful personality. His face is relaxed, no tension or worry etching his features, and that draws my own smile. Nick smooths hair from my forehead, and I marvel at how a simple brush of his fingers across my scalp ignites a fire in me all over again.

I wriggle within his hold, feeling his cock stiffen beneath me. He laughs, kissing the top of my head. "You're insatiable."

"I'm also sore," I admit.

"I can't imagine," he replies, his eyes scrutinizing me for signs of discomfort, before they widen in realization and unease washes over his face. "Rhi, I'm sorry. I didn't…I wasn't thinking when I-"

I cut him off, already guessing the cause of his concern. "I'm on birth control."

His bunched shoulders shed the tension. "Oh. Ok. Good. "

He doesn't follow up with any statements about being tested, because our kind can't catch any sexually transmitted diseases. I'd learned all this from Wilde during our one-on-ones where I'd become bolder in asking her questions about the consequences of sex between our species. Because we're still part human, and our monster doesn't emerge until puberty, we procreate the same way humans do. Despite Nick and I not being together at the time, I'd gone on birth control after learning that, so I guess subconsciously, I was always hoping he and I would find our way back to each other.

I stretch my legs, and my feet brush the torn chaise cushion. "I'm sorry about the chaise."

Nick laughs again, light and carefree, and gods do I love it. "That's ok. It's replaceable."

My gaze flicks to the shattered pieces shimmering on the floor, and part of my chess-loving heart shatters as well. "And that?"

Nick follows my stare and winces. "Is not."

"Oh noooooo ."

"You told me you loved me." He shrugs. "It was worth it."

I glance back up at him again, finding him watching me. "Hearing me say ‘I love you,' was worth the destruction of this exquisite masterpiece?" I don't hide the skepticism in my voice.

Nick's hand drifts to my back, caressing the base of my spine. I shiver, but more so because of his intense stare.

"I'd give my dying breath to hear you say that again."

My own breath hitches. Not because I'm shocked at his words, but because there is a very real possibility they might come to fruition.

I place a hand on the armrest behind his head and another on the top of the chaise to hoist myself up so I hover above him. "I love you, Nicholas Cervallos. There is no one else for me. Not in this life or the next." I brush his lips with my own, and he consumes my mouth with savage kisses, his tongue meeting mine stroke for stroke. His strong arms envelope me, drawing me flush to his chest. When we finally break apart, two shots of golden whiskey stare back at me.

"I love you. And I would face all the dangers of Hell to find you before I'd choose peace in Heaven without you."

I smile, overwhelmed with such contentment at being in his arms again.

"Speaking of which," his eyes drop to my throat, "you owe me an explanation about the necklace. "

I sigh and rest my head against his chest. "Can we shower first?"

"Of course. Do you think I'd pass up sex in the shower?"

I playfully rap his shoulder. "No one said anything about sex."

"I'm pretty sure the sex was implied."

I roll my eyes and push off him. He stands, and I can't help the dip in my gaze towards his erect cock. Nick grins when he catches me staring, and I gesture impatiently.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Lead the way."

I follow him from the room, toeing around the broken pieces of glass and scattered diamonds. My heart actually caves a bit, seeing such a stunning and one-of-a-kind chess set reduced to smithereens. But then a certain piece catches my eye, still whole.

"Hey, Nick."

He turns just as I toss the piece at him and catches it effortlessly. In his palm, he holds his King piece.

"Checkmate."