I swallow down the anxiety that that realisation drags up, because if I allow myself to think about last night being real for too long, then there’s every chance that I’ll be the one to get up and walk away.
You’re a Cirillo soldier, Nico. The future underboss. There are certain things expected of you. And the most important is to never lose face. You want to be respected. You need to show those motherfuckers that you are worthy, strong, un-fucking-breakable.
I squeeze my eyes closed as Dad’s voice echoes through my head.
Do not show fucking weakness.
Ever.
Gritting my teeth, I rip my eyes open and stare down the woman who stupidly tried to hold me up last night.
Stupid, stupid girl.
“I fucking hate you, Brianna,” I growl before dropping to my front and sucking on her clit so hard she screams like a banshee, her legs kicking out as she tries to deal with the sensations I suddenly force on her.
“Put your feet on the bed or I’ll stop,” I demand fiercely when her heel collides with my kidney.
“You wouldn’t fucking dare.”
“Fucking try me, Siren. I thought you knew me better than to dare me to do anything.”
Our eyes hold for a beat as I stare at her over her body, fire crackling between us. But in her eyes, I now see an understanding, a compassion, fucking pity that I’m sure wasn’t there only moments ago, and it makes my stomach knot painfully.
That is, until her fingers twist in my hair and she shoves me back down between her legs.
“Make yourself fucking useful or I might as well be alone and doing it myself.”
“You fucking should be,” I mutter before I bury myself between her thighs and lick and suck her until she’s coming all over my face and screaming my name as if I’m fucking God.
I mean, I’m pretty sure I am. In terms of oral sex, anyway.
11
BRIANNA
Why the hell does he have to be so fucking good?
Why?
It’s not fair.
Why couldn’t one of the nice boys I’ve gone out with possess these kinds of skills? The ones who hold the door open, pull your seat out and talk about a nice and peaceful future with a white picket fence and two point five kids.
A shudder of disgust races down my spine at the thought of that being my destiny. But the fact I don’t want that isn’t the point.
Why does the man who makes my body fly like no other have to be such a dangerous, broken, miserable cunt?
“Nico,” I gasp as he throws my legs over his shoulder and impales me on his impressive dick.
My breath catches as he slams into me so hard he hits my cervix.
“Fuck, your cunt is as mind-blowing as your mouth.”
He grinds his hips, hitting both that place deep inside me and my clit with his pelvis, and I almost go flying over the edge again despite having only just come on his face.
There have been very few men over the years who’ve managed to drag multiples out of me alone. Usually if I put in a helping hand and, you know, actually locate my clit, then I can have a couple.
But Nico far from needs a hand to send me flying over that edge over and over.