“Christ,” he snarls. “I’m not going to last ten damn minutes without fucking you either.”
I know the instant the light turns green. Nick shifts into gear and stomps on the accelerator, sending the Aventador leaping away from the intersection with a thunderous roar of the engine and a scream of spinning tires.
I don’t think it takes even five minutes for us to reach the apartment building. I’m still enjoying Nick’s cock as he parks the Lambo in the underground garage and cuts the engine.
On a guttural curse, he pulls me off him and hastily zips up. “You don’t play fair, Ms. Ross.”
His grim smile sends ten kinds of shivers through my body as he coils my ponytail around his fist and drags me roughly across the seats. His eyes scorch me with barely restrained need as he holds me immobile, our faces less than an inch apart. “I can think of any number of ways I’d like to punish you for that.”
Punish. The word startles me on some basic, primal level. It’s not one I’ve ever heard from a lover before. Certainly not one I’d expect to turn me on. But it does, the way everything about this man stirs something bold and reckless in me. Things I’ve never been, or thought I could be, with anyone else.
With Nick, I have no fear. No, with him, none of my old rules apply. He’s been tempting me to bend or break them all from the very beginning. I lick my lips, which are swollen and still carrying the erotic scent and taste of him.
He takes me into a kiss that is hard and urgent and raw. I moan with the intensity of it, my sex clenching in animal response to every claiming thrust of his tongue inside my mouth. I bring my hands up to his face, my fingers rasping over the faint stubble of his jaw, then tunneling deeply into his soft black hair so I can hold him closer.
I want this bruising kiss to go on forever. What I really want to do is drop back down on him and suck him until he comes, but Nick releases me on a low growl, and it’s plain from the stormy heat of his eyes that he has other plans.
We barely make it into the penthouse apartment before he pounces on me. His kiss is carnal, his body hard against my curves, dominating me in a way that leaves me breathless.
I’m not sure how we end up moving to the terrace. Nick’s command of my mouth and my body is so consuming, I don’t register that we’re outside until I feel the first cool brush of night air on my bare arms and legs. My short, lightweight skirt dances around my thighs. The ocean breeze is cool against my naked sex, a delicious contrast to the molten heat Nick has ignited in every cell of my being.
Nick reaches between my legs and draws in a breath through clenched teeth. “I shouldn’t play fair with you, either. I should tease,” he says, his fingertips barely skimming my drenched cleft. “I should torment.”
He gives my sensitized clit only the briefest stroke of his thumb—a there-and-gone caress that wrings a broken cry from my parted lips. I gaze up at him helplessly, prepared to beg for more.
“I should punish you,” he murmurs, his voice harsh with lust.
As he says this, I realize I’m holding my breath, suspended in a dark anticipation that sends my heart galloping in my breast. I am waiting for his touch, for his kiss, for whatever he desires from me. I am his for the taking, however he wants me. I have been from the moment our eyes first met weeks ago, and he knows it.
“Yes,” I answer.
My admission is so quiet, at first, I think the breeze has carried it away. But then I watch Nick’s eyes darken under the hard slashes of his brows. I watch his achingly handsome face take on a dangerous edge now, a look that unnerves me, excites me . . . makes me tremble with need.
“You trust me,” he says, less question than confident statement of fact.
I nod, too caught up in my desire to summon words.
“Turn around.”
I obey his low command, and find that I am standing at the very edge of the open terrace. The Plexiglas railing is only inches in front of me, the hip-high barrier between my body and an eighteen-story drop practically invisible in the starlit darkness. It steals my breath to be so close to the inky, endless space below me. Farther out, the moonlit, spangled water ripples away from the dark shore as far as my eyes can see.
Nick’s strong hands come to rest on my shoulders. His warmth seeps through my skin and bones, and I can’t keep from settling back into him as he moves up close behind me. I want to feel his arms around me, to know that I am anchored to something safe and solid, but he denies me that comfort.
“Hold on to the railing,” he instructs me, his tone authoritative and calm. “Don’t take your hands off of it, Avery. Not unless I tell you to.”
I nod, swallowing on a dry throat. The arced perimeter of Plexi is topped by a broad strip of polished steel. I curl my fingers over it, holding on like I’ve been told. The sho
rt, swishy skirt of my dress flutters in the night breeze, tickling my thighs. Behind me, I feel a stirring of even cooler air as Nick backs away slightly.
“Spread your legs for me, baby.” He makes a low sound of approval when I comply. “Good girl. Now bend forward. Lower, baby . . . That’s it, all the way down. I want to see your fine ass and sweet pussy bared and ready for me. Ready for anything I want to do.”
Oh, God. My sex clenches at his erotic threat. I draw a shaky breath and try to glance over my shoulder at him. When his palm smacks my behind, I yelp at the unexpected shock of it, staggering a bit on my high-heeled sandals.
“Face forward, Ms. Ross.” His deep voice vibrates into my bones. “You earned this, remember?”
The lingering sting of his spank is a lick of flame on my ass, but his fingers are right there an instant later, skimming over me feather-light, soothing the bite. Shivers grip me in the wake of that teasing touch, and my pulse becomes a throb, one that seems rooted in my clit.
“You’re mine to torment now,” he reminds me. His caress dips lower, into the slick heat between my parted thighs. “I’ll tell you when you can move.”