Nicco

Ch. 22: It Stays In

ARIA

For all the right reasons?

I doubt I'm ready to take on Nicco's brand of depravity, but I make every effort to push aside my misgivings. On a night like tonight, I feel too light and too free to be tied down. Tonight is for living.

Fuck everything else!

I gaze up at Nicco with my heart in my eyes and a pulse between my legs. Desire surges in me. I walk toward him and slide my hands over his broad shoulders. Rising on my toes, I rain kisses along the chiseled line of his jaw while whispering, "Then make me fucking scream."

"Does this mean I have permission," he murmurs in a voice brimming with mischief, "to do whatever I want tonight?"

"I should probably stop you," I muse recklessly, "but I won't."

Within seconds, Nicco's hands capture my waist. He picks me up as though I weigh next to nothing. My legs wrap around his waist while he carries me across the garage. I giggle at his eagerness. Before I know it, I'm hoisted onto the black leather seat of his Ducati motorcycle.

"Voglio baciarti. Da tutte le parti. Adesso," he growls.

Confused, I ask him to translate, "What did you say?"

Nicco's gaze darkens, and his body tenses as though primed and ready for fucking.

"A kiss. Now," he rasps the bare minimum into English.

The tip of my tongue darts out. I wet my lips and ready myself to kiss Nicco. On the mouth. As I lean in, however, he pulls away. "No, no, baby. Not there."

"No?" I mutter with a furrowed brow.

Smirking, his hand nudges my knees apart. "Here."

Both eyes widen. I exhale softly, "Oh, fuck."

Even better.

My heart thuds, hard, when his demand registers in my brain. The realization throbs all the way down to my core. Like the thirsty bitch I am, I comply without hesitation, spreading my legs for him. Now, it's his turn to grin at my eagerness. He shoves my skirt up to my waist and slides my panties down my legs. Nicco's towering frame sinks before me. His knees hit the ground. He pulls my legs over his shoulders until his face is positioned between them. Fingertips graze my inner thighs. A whispering touch here. A light caress there. The thrill of anticipation keeps building within.

Our eyes meet.

Nicco holds my gaze when he finally moves in to kiss me. Not on the mouth. But between my legs. His lips and tongue feel like sin on my bare pussy. Every nerve thrums with desire. My eyes close. A faint moan escapes me.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

But I need more.

"Please," I beg, hips writhing as I try to rub my desperate, needy clit against his mouth.

"Please... what?"

"You know what I want."

"Be a good girl," taunts Nicco, "and use your words."

Glaring and grumbling, I tell him, "I want your..."

"My... what?"

"Your mouth..."

"My mouth... where?"

With warm cheeks, I force the dirty, little words out of me, "You mouth on my clit."

The bastard rejects me right away, "Not yet, baby."