Page 67 of Sweet as Sin (Bad Habit 1)
I made a move to leave, but Nico prevented that by rolling me flat on my back and straddling me. His big thighs pinned me to the bed. I’d been right in my earlier assumption; he’d removed his shirt, and his shoes, and was wearing only jeans.
His naked chest mocked me. His golden skin mocked me. Every tattoo and rippling muscle and stupid chiseled feature mocked me, as did his hair, his eyes . . .
Oh, fuc
k this. I hated him. That was it. I hated him, and I was done.
“Get off me!” Shoving had exactly zero effect. Nico didn’t budge, but he did grasp my wrists and hold them against his stomach so I couldn’t scratch his eyes out, as was my plan.
“Settle down!”
“Or what, you’ll walk out for the entire night, give me no real explanations when you get back, and expect me to lap up all your bullshit like it’s goddamn gelato? Been there, done that, OVER IT!”
His lips parted. Into his eyes came a look of fury so acute I quaked inside. There was a split second of stillness—rabbit, meet the wolf that’s going to snap your neck!—then Nico bent down and crushed his mouth against mine.
His tongue was hot and invading, his hands around my wrists were hard. I jerked my head to the side to break the kiss, but Nico let go of my wrists and pinned my head in place with both big hands around my jaw. Pushing against his chest got me nowhere. Trying to shove him off got me nowhere. I was so frustrated I wanted to scream.
But then his kiss began to take effect.
Even through my anger and hurt, the taste of him, the sweetness of his mouth, thrilled me. Thrilled me and drugged my senses, making the world narrow to our lips and tongues and panting breaths, the unforgiving pressure of his hands against my head.
My traitorous body arched into him, wanting more.
He made a sound deep in his throat. Without breaking the kiss, he adjusted himself so he was lying flat on top of me. He was already hard; I felt it as soon as he pressed his pelvis against mine. One of his hands left my face to rove roughly over my body. He cupped my breast, pinched my nipple through the thin fabric of my T-shirt and bra, slid his hand down my thigh, and pulled my leg up to his waist. All the while his mouth was on mine, demanding, angry, and hot.
I pulled my other leg up to his waist so he was settled between my thighs and wound my arms around his back.
He finally broke the kiss to rear up. With one hard tug, he yanked my shirt off over my head. My bra followed, torn apart and tossed aside, then his mouth was on my breasts, greedily, brutally sucking.
I moaned. This was wrong. He’d been out all night with another woman. I couldn’t let myself do this. He was using me, playing me, he didn’t respect me at all—
Nico unzipped my jeans and yanked them down over my hips, tearing them off. He tore off my panties next. With one hand on my shoulder, holding me down, he unzipped his own jeans and freed his erection. Hesitating, he glanced up at my face, his eyes dark.
The question was there in his gaze.
Once, I thought, delirious. One time and then it’s over. “Condom,” I rasped, barely able to breathe.
He gave me his weight, leaned across to the nightstand, retrieved a condom from the drawer, tore it open, rolled it down the length of his cock, then shoved himself inside me with no preliminaries, without even so much as a word.
I cried out in shock. My nails bit into his back so hard I was sure I’d broken the skin.
He turned his face to my ear. “You wanna make me bleed, baby?” he said, his voice rough. “Go ahead. Won’t be nothin’ new. You been doin’ it every single fuckin’ minute since we first met.”
He thrust even deeper into me. I groaned, wanting more, hating him, hating myself.
His teeth grazed my shoulder. His fingers dug into the tender flesh of my hips. He thrust again, and again, each time harder and more mercilessly.
This wasn’t making love. This was fucking. It was raw and angry and hopeless and devouring . . .
And it was exactly what I needed.
I said his name on an exhalation, dragging my nails down his back, my hips moving in time with his. I slid my fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans and cupped his hard ass, pulling him deeper into me. He started a new rhythm, one thrust alternating with an amazing, fluid swirl of his hips that dragged his pelvis across my clit and around an incredibly sensitive spot inside me.
This time when I said his name, it was more of a helpless moan.
His hand gripped my throat with just enough pressure to alarm me. My eyes flew open. A flicker of panic winged through my chest.
“Come and you’re mine,” he panted, his face hard. “That’s the deal, remember?”
