Ruthless Vow (Vegas Vicious #2)

13. Nicole

13

Nicole

Leo kisses me, aggressive, deep, his lips claiming, bruising. And I kiss him back, my body thrumming, hot, his kiss reaching inside me and twisting a tight knot of lust. I ache for his touch, my breasts, my nipples, my pussy. I want his hands on me, his mouth on me.

I feel the hard press of his cock against me.

“On your knees,” he says, the words a command. He expects to be obeyed. And I want to obey. I ache to obey. To lose myself under his command and let all my worry and fear wash away beneath the power of his will. For years, I’ve read erotica, turned on by stories about spanking and masterful heroes. My only experience with actual sex was a single bland encounter in college.

But Leo is my secret sex dreams come to life.

I sink to my knees before him, wanting his cock in my mouth, in my throat.

Lust pounds through my veins.

He pulls his shirt over his head as I sit on my heels, looking up at him, at the width of his shoulders and the sculpted muscle of his abs, his pecs, his arms. The fingers of one hand fist my hair while he uses the other to unzip his fly and free his cock.

It’s thick and hard and long, the head broad. His piercing is a curved platinum rod with a stud on the underside where the head meets the shaft and another stud at the slit.

Entranced, I run the tip of my index finger along the underside of his shaft, from the base to the stud.

He grunts and presses his cock against my lips. I open, and he pushes inside, so big, so hard. I suck and lick as he withdraws, pushes deeper. Now both his hands tangle in my hair, tipping my head to offer him better access.

I moan as he pushes deeper, almost making me gag.

“Suck me. Nice and deep,” he murmurs.

I tip my head a little more and take him even deeper, my pulse racing, my pussy throbbing, my whole body on fire, aching for him.

“Good girl,” he says.

His words of approval combined with the feel of his cock in my mouth, in my throat, makes my clit throb and ache. I grasp the backs of his thighs as he fucks my mouth, revelling in the taste of him, the scent of his skin, the steady thrust of his hips. The power I hold as I give him this pleasure.

I want to suck him forever.

I’m make a sound of disappointment when he pulls out of my mouth with a groan then lifts me to my feet. He turns me, bends me, dragging my shirt over my head, my pants down my legs, and I am naked. He is naked. His body hard and hot. His hands grasping my hips, then sliding back to knead my ass.

He pushes me down on the bed, on my back. I lie there, looking up at him, so beautiful, smooth skin and black ink. He pushes my knees apart, and I let him, his hand stroking the inside of my thigh, gentle, then insistent as he spreads me even wider.

His lips skim my neck, then his teeth. He sucks hard on my skin and I know it will mark. The thought sends a primitive thrill through me. Every touch, every kiss makes me dizzy with lust. I don’t know where he will touch next or whether the caress with be gentle or rough.

Then his lips are on my breast, his hot mouth closing around my nipple. He sucks hard, making me cry out. Pleasure. Pain. His fingers trace the other nipple, closing on it to pinch gently, then harder, tugging, pulling, the pressure just enough to make me gasp and moan and writhe. He alternates between my nipples, sucking, biting, squeezing, pinching, one hand tangled in my hair as my body arches into his touch, into his mouth. Into the rough demand of his every caress.

He rises over me, his eyes locked on mine as he nudges my legs wider still, the tip of his cock pressing against my clit.

I’m throbbing with lust, wet, desperate, and I squirm against him, needing him inside me.

I hear the sound of a wrapper and he shifts as he rolls on a condom.

Then he catches my legs, bending my knees and forcing them wide so I am bare to him, open beneath him.

He pushes a finger inside me and brushes my clit with his thumb. I cry out as my hips buck off the bed. I’m so sensitive, so ready.

His hand splays over my breastbone, pinning me in place as he pushes his cock inside me, taking his time while I gasp and mewl and beg, so horny I can barely remember to breathe. He looms over me, watching himself sink into my wet folds.

He pushes harder, stretching me, filling me, while I am pinned beneath him, a quivering mass of sensation, achy, needy.

I reach up and grasp his shoulder, holding on as he pumps in and out, the size of him almost too much, the tempo of his thrusts driving me mad.

He grabs my wrists and forces my hands above my head, pinning them, holding them there in one big hand as the other trails back to my breasts, pinching my nipple so hard it hurts, then gentling his touch, teasing the sensitive peak while his cock moves in and out, making my whole body writhe and squirm, aching for release.

He takes me, setting the pace, stroking, kissing. Everything he does makes me feel desperately, achingly horny until all I know is the building pressure inside me and the throb of my clit, so swollen and sensitive.

He fucks me harder, faster, and then he slides his hand between our bodies and presses hard against my clit, pushing me over the edge.

I wail my release, thrusting my hips against him, pinned beneath his weigh, my hands trapped in his unforgiving grip. I come in a series of shuddering waves, again and again as Leo thrusts deep, his body tensing with his own orgasm.

He doesn’t pull out right away. I can feel him, still hard inside me as he gently rearranges my limbs, straightening one of my legs then the other, holding me against him so I feel his heart beating in time with my own.

I must have drifted off. When I wake up, Leo is gone and I am alone in the room, my entire body both sore and electrified. I have never come like that, never felt like that, like Leo owned me, mastered me, bent me to his will.

And I loved every second of it.

I love—

I close off that thought before it can fully form.

I stumble from the bed and turn on the light. There’s a tray of food on the chest of drawers. My locket sits atop it. He returned it to me, just as he promised.

But will he honor his promise to find my sister?

How can he when I haven’t been fully honest with him, when I haven’t revealed my aunt’s identity or all I know about her? How will he even know where to start looking?

I press the side of my fist against my forehead. There are no easy answers here.

Forcing myself to focus only on what I can control in this moment, I take a quick shower and dress in a pair of khaki cargo pants and a matching long-sleeved, mock-neck t-shirt. Then I slide my locket over my head and go to the door.

“Luca?” I call.

No one answers.

“Vito? Joe?” I wait for a minute. “Is anyone here?”

Still no answer. I knock on the door, then jiggle the handle to try and get someone’s attention.

To my shock, the door swings open.

I stand there for at least a full minute, confused. Then I step out into the hallway and look both ways. There’s no one here.

Is this a trap? A test? Like when Leo expected me to take his gun?

Instinct demands that I ask no questions and just go.

Who am I to argue with instinct?

I slink along the hallway, hugging the wall, checking the corners for cameras or any threat. At the end of the hall is a door that leads to a staircase. I go up. I can’t be certain that’s the right direction, but it makes more sense to have a windowless holding cell in a basement rather than on a higher floor.

Turns out I was right. The metal door at the top of the staircase opens to a vast, empty warehouse. At the far end is an office with a large window overlooking the space. Someone is sitting in the office, their back to me.

From where I stand, I see three marked exits. I don’t head for the one closest to me because if the person sitting in the office turns their head even a little, they’ll see me. Instead, I go low and creep across the floor toward the exit to the left of the office, the one in the window’s blind spot.

There’s a security camera in the corner, but I don’t see an LED light flashing near the lens, which suggests it might not be turned on or recording. I don’t really care if Leo watches my escape later, but I don’t want the person in the office to see me leave on the monitor.

I freeze for a second. Then I run for the door.

And then I’m outside the building, running hard for the street.