But despite Nero’s 180-degree snap back to icy hostility, everything feels different now. He’s confided in me—trusted me—and I can’t help but see him differently.
Is he really the monster that Agent Greggs makes him out to be? The monster I’ve been only too happy to believe he is?
I turn it over in my mind all during the ride back to his place, but I come no closer to an answer. All I know is, seeing this glimpse of the conflict brewing behind his steely gaze is chipping away at my defenses.
Defenses I’m relying on to keep my desire at bay.
Inside, Nero shoves the leftover pizza in the refrigerator. I wonder if he still eats it cold for breakfast, but I don’t ask.
I know that the time for reliving the past is over. Still, I linger in the hallway, wondering if there’s any way to keep our connection alive. “Do you need me for anything tomorrow?” I ask. “For McKenna, I mean.” I add, when my voice comes out too eager.
“I’ll let you know.” Nero’s reply is curt.
I bite back my disappointment. “Goodnight then.”
He glances over, and his eyes meet mine. I can feel a charged spark in the air, one that curls around my torso and shoots straight to my core.
Heat floods my body. But Nero just clenches his jaw. “Night,” he growls, turning away.
I hurry to my room and lock the door behind me. I change for bed, and go through the motions of my skincare routine, but even when I slide under the covers, my body is still wound tight.
Wantinghim.
I exhale a frustrated breath. Every time I close my eyes, I’m back in that cabin, pressed up against the wall with Nero’s hands pinning me in place; his fingers thrusting high inside me, making me moan.
Making me beg.
My pulse kicks, and I throw the covers back, too hot. Too restless. Too much of everything.
I slide my hands over my body, wishing they were Nero’s. I let myself sink into the memory, running my fingertips over my lips as I remember his heated kiss, the way he consumed me, dominated my mouth with his tongue.
My own touch is light as it runs down my neck and chest. I use both hands to cup my breasts, pinching my nipples just enough to turn them into hardened peaks.
Holding onto the image of Nero in my mind, his lust-filled eyes, and the dirty words he spoke into my ear, I slowly slide one hand between my thighs. My touch isn’t anywhere close to being as satisfying as his thick, searching fingers, but I begin to circle my clit—needing that pressure, aching for release.
The fantasy in my mind changes, and I picture my door flying open as Nero comes charging in. Determined to finish what we started at the cabin.
Vowing to claim me for real.
I slip two fingers inside of my body as I picture him lining himself up at my entrance and sinking in deep. The thought of him riding me hard and slow makes me moan deep in my throat.
He’d be demanding. Merciless. But not in a selfish way. No, Nero would draw out my pleasure as long as he could, until I can’t take anymore.
Until I’m screaming his name, swearing anything under the sun.
Until I’m his again.
My breathing grows labored. I can feel the pleasure building inside of me, so I move back to my clit, stroking swiftly in the rhythm that usually gets me there.
But not tonight.
I’m close, so fucking close, but for some reason, I can’t get over the edge. I can’t let go.
Fuck.
I let out a scream into the pillow, wound so tight, with release out of reach. This is all Nero’s fault. Now that I’ve had a taste of the kind of pleasure he can give me, nothing else will get me there.
I need him. His fingers. His mouth.