Chapter Fourteen
Good question he thought eyeing her over the rim of his cup.
What was he doing?
"I wanted to apologise again for last night." Those luminous eyes held his for an eternal moment. "And to make sure you were all right."
Bronte gave him a cheeky grin that he couldn't help but return.
"Apology accepted. As you can see I'm fighting fit."
Little witch. He desperately wanted to kiss her.
"Okay, I am not going to apologise for that."
"You should quit while you're ahead."
"Will you come to the Ball with me?"
"I'd like to, yes."
They smiled at each other companionably.
Sipping her coffee thoughtfully, Bronte frowned for a long drawn out moment then flicked him a wicked little look.
Nico realised he could sit there all day just watching the expressions cross her mobile face.
"Nico?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you any good at giving a woman a screaming orgasm?"
He inhaled coffee and choked.
Laughing, Bronte handed him kitchen roll, rose and energetically thumped his back.
"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to catch you unawares."
"What sort of question is that?" His voice croaked.
"Rosie reckons you must be a fully paid up member of the club."
She grinned at him with big wide eyes and Nico wondered just what the hell it was these women talked about.
"What club?" As soon as he asked, he wished he hadn't.
She simply shrugged, batted her eyes.
"The big "O" club."
"Never heard of it."
Terribly aroused and distracted by those fluttering eyelashes, he knew he sounded outraged. He was fast coming to the conclusion that Rosie Gordon was a bad influence on her friend. She appeared to be at the bottom, so to speak, of a lot of things.
"What's so funny?" He growled aware she was teasing him.
He wondered if she was prepared to face the inevitable consequences.
Still grinning Bronte took the dishes to the sink and turned on the tap.
"Your face."
He moved fast.
Bronte felt the heat of his breath on her neck. Swishing liquid soap into warm water, she took her time cleaning the mugs.
When his arms slid loosely around her waist, she turned and looked up into those eyes, dark and filled with desire for her.
"What is the matter with my face?" That voice, deep and husky made her shiver.
It was a perfectly serious face now she realised and her stomach curled with a pleasant little kick of lust.
"You have a nice face." She patted his chin giving him a beard of bubbles.
His eyes stayed on hers as he drew back to study her.
"Do not start something you are not prepared to finish, Bronte," he said arousal deepening his voice. He pressed his erection into her soft stomach. "I need to take you to bed."
Those dark grey eyes went too intense now, never leaving her suddenly hot face.
His mouth was so close, his breath mingled with hers as he slid his hands under her sweater to stroke gentle fingers over her too sensitive flesh.
Her body jerked and he smiled.
Magic fingertips glided over her skin, sending erotic shivers up her spine and a hot spear of arousal into her belly. His jaw clenched as she trembled and still he didn't kiss her. He wouldn't, she realised with sudden insight. This was her decision and hers alone.
Her hand reached up and her fingertips traced that stubborn jaw, over his cheek and up into his black, silky hair.
"Kiss me," she said and pulled that fabulous mouth to hers.
And there it was again, that punch of power.
Heat roared through her blood, almost making her frantic as he danced his tongue across her lips. His mouth cruised over hers.
He was being careful with her she realised and nipped his bottom lip to encourage him.
Her breath panted into his mouth.
Nico was determined that this time she set the pace. But when she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and her hands went on an erotic voyage of discovery under his sweater he was lost.
"Where's the bedroom?" he panted, running hot frantic kisses down that soft neck as he tugged off her top.
"Upstairs," she gasped, struggling to get his sweater off as he toed off his shoes.
"We'll never make it," he moaned as she slid off his belt, shaking fingers unbuttoning his jeans.
He slid her fitness pants down and she kicked them off.
Nico lifted her and she wrapped long legs around his waist.
"Sitting room, hurry, hurry," she implored him between open mouth kisses as her entire body burned.
?His soft laugh brought her eyes to his as he carried her through the house.
Setting her on her feet next to a large couch Nico cradled her face between large hands, rubbing his thumbs along her cheekbones, her lips. Those eyes were so dark with arousal and desire.
"I'll take care of you, I won't hurt you," he promised.
And she read genuine sincerity in those wonderful eyes.
"For God's sake, Nico, make love with me."
She groaned as he laid her down.
Nice and slow, Nico, he ordered himself, take it nice and slow.
His hand slid over the smooth skin of her hip, along her thigh and she trembled under him.
Softly, softly his mouth brushed hers, tasting her, nibbling a slow path along her bottom lip. Bronte sighed and opened her mouth, her tongue tangling in a silky, sensuous dance with his. A smile shaped his mouth as his lips explored the soft skin under her ear and her body shivered, convulsed under his.
Her responses made the blood thunder through his veins. Soft panting breaths made him crazy for her.
When those nails ran down his back towards his ass he groaned into her mouth.
Her fingertips stroked and explored his back, his wide shoulders.
The man worked out and Bronte gave a little hum of pleasure in her throat as she reached down over hard abs and lower still. Her fingers searched under his jeans, feathering over a lean hip.
His hand stilled hers.
"Not yet, cara." His harsh voice, low and full of need, detonated a bomb of lust deep in her belly. And she arched her pelvis towards him as he removed a condom from the back pocket of his jeans. Stripping down to his skin, Nico protected them both.
His fingers skimmed over her ribcage, down over her stomach and she gasped when he stripped her panties from her. Gentle fingertips stroked feather light slow circles around her navel and the hot liquid pull low in her belly was a heady mix of pleasure and pain. The scent of soap, his signature cologne and aroused male surrounded her. He rose above her, arms propped either side of her shoulders. A strong knee gently forced her legs apart. His eyes never left hers as his mouth twitched.
"You are ready for me." Voice low and accent thick with desire, his fingertips stroked the sensitive skin between her hip and pubic bone. Pleasure soared into Bronte's mind and she closed her eyes.
His index finger hovered over her centre.
"Open you legs. Wider."
A shuddering breath caught in her throat as his finger swept fluidly towards her buttocks and back up, almost reaching the tender little bud of tingling energy before sweeping away again. Two fingers set a slow rhythmic pace. They dipped deep into her core then slicked around the bud again and again, faster and faster.
She couldn't cope with this, she just couldn't. Eyes wide, her head shook from side to side. Too fast, her heart beat was too fast, the breath in her throat caught. His eyes never left hers, not for a moment. Her mouth made the O shape and her hands, knuckles white, gripped his shoulders, every muscle in her body went taught, stretched tight like piano wire. Her back bowed as two fingers dipped hard into her, his thumb pressed the bud.
Her breath seized in her lungs.
"Come for me, Bront
e. Let go."
A primal scream sounded in her throat. Every bone in her body almost snapped into tiny pieces as her mind fractured. A trembling, deep and dark built within her womb as the full body climax exploded.
The world went black for a split second.
Bronte screamed as her release gushed into his hand and her lungs took their first breath.
The trembling wouldn't stop.
Panic flooded her system.
Nico held her shuddering body close.
He stroked the valleys and plains of her back, down her buttocks and up again, over and over.
She couldn't stop shaking.
"Hush, it is okay. Let me finish it."
"You're killing me." She sobbed into his neck.
His laugh vibrated through her as she clung to him as he settled into the cradle of her hips.
He pressed the head of his cock into her, too thick and too big.
Bronte tensed. Her eyes flew to his as Nico held the position.
The concentrated tension in his expression as those corded neck muscles strained with effort simply amazed her. For the first time a man was waiting for her. Exquisitely slowly he entered her, inch by inch. She sighed into his mouth and let herself go as a voice in her head told her she would never, ever be the same again.
"Relax, cara."
Nico had never had a woman so responsive to him.
Her every tremble, every gasp brought him to his knees.
She was amazing.
When she tried to kiss him, he shook his head, desperate to concentrate purely on her pleasure. He suspected that this was her first experience of orgasm. The fact that she trusted him enough to let go of her inhibitions made him feel so protective of her.
He needed to show her it could be so much better.
Bronte's endless legs gripped his back as her pelvis tipped to permit him to thrust deeper again and again. She felt so good. So tight and hot and wet. Her centre still pulsed. And he felt her next orgasm gather as she gave sharp high little panting breaths of pleasure that drove him out of his mind.
Take it slow and easy he muttered in Italian. But she pumped her hips faster. The muscles of her core gripping him ruthlessly as she raced towards completion.
Bronte screamed loud and long in his ear and then sank her teeth into his shoulder.
Hell, he had never felt anything like it. Her orgasm clenched like a fist around him, sucking him further into her centre. His sac ached, throbbed and he lost control. Fear clawed a path from his gut into his throat. But even it could not cope with the sensational build up. His skull almost fractured from pressure and he howled, gasping in release.
Nico lay on top of her, sucking air into burning lungs and still she milked him.
He laughed, happy and terrified at the same time.
Still connected, pulling her with him, he lay on his side, eyes closed.
He needed a minute.
When he opened his eyes, Bronte's serious emerald gaze studied him.
Her cheeks were flushed and she shivered in reaction.
"What just happened?"
Wisely, Nico controlled the grin and kept his face absolutely straight. And kept his voice gentle.
"We made love. You screamed, cara, twice."
Stunned, Bronte simply stared at him.
Boy, oh boy, he had her there. And she had screamed twice. The man obviously kept a count of a woman's orgasms. She still had glorious aftershocks rippling through her system. A firm hand smoothed her skin from shoulder to hip as he nuzzled the delicate skin of her neck.
"You have a beautiful home. Shall we move to the bedroom?"
Cold reality slapped Bronte hard.
How could she have forgotten what it was like afterwards?
She'd never had the wow, darling, you were amazing after sex talk. Jonathan's idea of pillow talk was to complain she was unresponsive and unimaginative.
Apparently all Nico wanted to talk about was the house.
Pushing him off her, Bronte leapt to her feet, hunting for her panties.
She couldn't look at him as she pulled on the scrap of white lace.
"Well thank you for the orgasm," she told him, her tone stiffly polite. "It was lovely."
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