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“You have to be quiet,” he warns, amusement lacing his voice as he continues pumping into me. “If you make too much noise, my men might come running to check on you.”

My breath hitches, my gaze snapping toward the glass door.The freaking glass door.They wouldn’t even have to step inside to see this.

I can’t let that happen. Matteo would never take me seriously again.

Yet, my body trembles with excitement at the reckless possibility of being caught. Desire clouds my judgment, making every touch feel intoxicating.

He doesn’t withdraw his fingers from my pussy. Instead, he leans in, capturing my lower lip between his teeth before releasing it with a slow pull. His eyes stay locked on mine, dark and unreadable, while he’s finger-fucking me. The intensity of his gaze alone sends a shiver through me.Eye contact.I mentally add it to the list of things I like in bed—right beneath the way his touch is unraveling me now.

Without thinking, I wrap my hands around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss.

He responds instantly. His hands slide from my core to my waist, gripping me firmly as he pulls me flush against him. His mouth is possessive, demanding, like he’s been holding back for too long. And I melt into him.

He presses his knee between my legs, and a sharp gasp escapes me as warmth floods through my body. He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes.

“You want me.” His voice is low, certain. It’s not a question—it’s a fact.

I swallow, my breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. “Nicolas…”

“Your body is already telling me,” he murmurs. “But I need to hear it from you.”

His hand slides beneath my dress, fingers grazing my waist, sending shivers up my spine.

I close my eyes for a moment, then exhale. “I want you, Nicolas. Show me the consequences of my actions.”

I press against his erection, my fingers digging into his shoulders as if anchoring myself. The need is undeniable, overwhelming, something I can’t explain.

A low, satisfied sound rumbles in his chest as his hands grip my sensitive ass. There’s a hint of roughness, a controlled intensity that makes my skin tingle. It’s a sensation that lingers, toeing the line between pleasure and something deeper.

I’ve learned since we fucked not to fight—not when it takes hold so completely. My heart may war with him, but my body has already surrendered, drawn to him with a force beyond reason. And for now, I let it.

His hand trails upward, gathering the fabric of my dress until it rests just above my breasts. He ties it in place, then pushes my bra down, exposing my skin to the cool air. A sharp gasp escapes me as his thumb grazes over my nipple, teasing, testing. Before I can react, he grips my hair, tilting my head back until I’m forced to meet his gaze.

“I need to see your face,” he murmurs. “I want to watch what each touch does to you.”

His thumb brushes over my lower lip, lingering before he returns his attention to my body. Another slow tug at my nipples, another shiver coursing through me. My legs weaken beneath me, heat pooling low in my stomach. The more he pulls, the more sensitive those buds become.

“Fuck,Bambina,”he breathes, his voice rough.What am I going to do with you?”

A quiet whimper escapes me. He’s looking at me like I’m his to unravel, pressing his knees on my pussy, flicking my nipples, and yanking my hair painfully. Every sensation blends into the next—pleasure, pain, anticipation coiling inside me, making it impossible to think. My pussy clenches where he just shoved three fingers in. I start to feel my orgasm build.

Already?

Then he lifts me off the ground easily and places me on the table. I can’t help the squeak that pops out as my butt lands on the smooth, cold wood. His fingers tip my chin up, guiding me to meet his eyes once more. This time, he doesn't need to tilt my head back as far.

And this time, when his mouth captures mine, his tongue teases along my lower lip, tasting, claiming.

I open for him immediately, just as hungry as he is for me. When his tongue slides against mine, a low groan escapes both of us, the sound vibrating between our lips.

He travels up my thighs, slowly and deliberately, before gripping my waist with firm possession.

He pulls me forward, and I gasp into the kiss because his cloth-covered length drags along my inner thigh before pressing into my center, coasting over that little bundle of nerves that makes my pulse jump each time I dare to touch it.

Nicolas tugs me closer, eliminating every inch of space between us. My body reacts instinctively, shifting, tilting, seeking more. Our movements sync, breathless and unrestrained, each sensation more intoxicating than the last.

“You’re so needy,” he murmurs, his voice rough with satisfaction. “I like it.”

His hands slide up my torso, and he cups my breasts with a possessive ease. “Your nipples make my mouth water.” Then, he dips his head, his lips closing around one of them, drawing a gasp from me. My back arches, my body instinctively pushing toward him, craving the contact I can’t quite reach.