Page 14 of Bully Wolf’s Nanny (Silvermist Wolves #1)

They tumbled into Nicolas’s apartment, tongues battling for dominance as the elevator doors slid shut behind them. Daisy was relying entirely on the strength of Nicolas’s arms to keep her upright as he walked her back into the darkened room, his keen senses keeping them from falling.

“Fucking hell, I’ve been desperate to do this for weeks,” he groaned between greedy kisses, shoving her backwards onto a sofa and quickly covering her body with his own and reclaiming her lips once more.

She could do nothing but whine in agreement, pawing at his shirt, her every sense filled with him. The heavy musk of his scent, the powerful grip of his hands, the taste of him on her tongue.

“I…we…” she managed to gasp out.

He reared back, his blue eyes glowing in the dark. “Daisy Copperfield, I swear to fucking God, if you’re about to tell me we shouldn’t be doing this—"

“No!” she said, blushing at the force of her conviction. “No, I just mean…the girls? What about the girls?”

“They’re with the babysitter on the floor below,” he said, his teeth nipping the delicate skin beneath her jaw, “we’ve got the place to ourselves.”

“Okay,” she breathed, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt, “okay, that’s good!’”

He leaned back again and tore his shirt off with a growl, buttons flying in every direction, before pinning her down to the sofa with one hand against her neck. His lips moved over her pulse point, lightly grazing before sucking the skin into mouth.

Daisy gasped at the pleasure-pain, her hips involuntarily bucking upwards into his, fingernails scraping over his back. So long. She’d denied herself so long, and now the river banks had burst and there was no containing the oncoming flood.

Nicolas’s lips trailed lower and he growled in irritation when he met the fabric barely containing her heaving breasts. His hands gripped it, making to rip it from her, and she squealed in horror, “No, you can’t! It’s too beautiful!”

“No”—with one smooth motion, he wrenched the dress apart, splitting it cleanly down to her navel—" you’re beautiful. I can get you a thousand pretty dresses, but nothing is more stunning than just you .”

Her blush had spread down to her chest now, and her hands flew up to cover her bra-covered breasts.

Her strength was no match for him however, and when Nicholas Accardi wanted something, he would get it.

He grasped her wrists and pinned them above her head, forcing her back to arch.

With deft fingers, he reached around and unclipped her bra, wrenching through the delicate straps of lace and throwing it over his shoulder, revealing her entirely to him.

He released a shuddering breath. “ Fuck .”

Slowly, almost reverently, his free hand caressed her cheek and traveled lower, brushing over her collarbone until he reached the plump flesh of her breasts.

They trembled as she did, nipples hardening under the intensity of his gaze.

His hand cupped her right breast, testing the weight, muscles of his chest rippling as he brushed his thumb over one stiff peak.

“Fuck, Daisy,” he said as she let out a whimper at the contact, “you’re even more fucking perfect than I remember.”

“No, I’m not,” she said, her voice small.

She was no great beauty, she knew that. She was too short, too curvy, too big.

Clothes didn’t fit her right, boys laughed at her, girls judged her.

She judged herself. Perfect was never a word she would use to describe herself. It seemed ridiculous to even think it.

Nicolas’ eyes darkened, his teeth baring. “What did you just say?”

“I said I’m not perfect,” she whispered, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I’m not— mmph!”

He had cut her off with a searing kiss, almost bruising with its force. She gasped as he invaded her mouth, claiming it as his own, fingers tightening around her wrists and hard body pressing her down into the couch.

“Never fucking say that again,” he snarled, pulling back, “I’m not fucking joking. You are perfect. You always have been. Anyone who says otherwise is a fucking idiot.”

“You said otherwise,” she said, unable to stop the words coming out of her mouth.

His eyes clouded over, another rumbling growl erupting from his chest. He was beautiful in his savagery, the refined lines of his aristocratic face so at odds with his mercurial rage.

Dark tendrils of hair escaped the confines of its careful styling, falling forward over his crystal blue eyes.

He was like some Greek God, some version of Hades sent to drag her down to hell.

“My point stands,” he said. “I was a fucking idiot.”

Her eyebrows shot up in shock. “B-but…you said…at the time…you said…”

“Forget what I said then,” he growled, “everything I said was bullshit. Pure and utter bullshit, Daisy.”

He must have seen the hesitance in her eyes, because with a growl he released her hands, and with a speed and strength only possible for a shifter, flipped her onto her belly, his hands making short work of the remainder of her dress.

She squealed as he bent over her, hard muscles pressed against her back. He was so huge, he dwarfed her entirely. Shivers ran down her spine as his arms braced either side of her, one of his feet on the floor, allowing him to press every inch of his powerful body into hers.

This was different to the first, and only, time they had slept together.

He was older now, more dangerous. And yet she still felt like the same nervous girl.

She hadn’t slept with anyone since him, too busy looking after Thea and scraping together a living for them.

If she had been intimidated by his experience before, it was nothing compared to now.

He had complete control, and she was entirely at his mercy.

And yet somehow, she didn’t care. She trusted him.

“Fine,” he continued, pressing kisses into the soft skin of her back, “perhaps you don’t believe my words. So I guess I’ll have to show you.”

His weight disappeared, and she strained to look over her shoulder to see what he was doing, only to fall forward with a squeal of shock as he hoisted her hips upwards into the air.

The lace of her panties was pulled tight against her before being ripped clean off, exposing her to the cool night air.

She wriggled in surprise, and he stilled her with one commanding hand pressed between her shoulder blades. “Stay still,” his voice dripped with pure sin. “There’s my good girl.”

The words, so elegant, so richly decadent, sent clenching desire straight to her core.

Her hands scrabbled for purchase against the couch, her breathing fast as her swollen lower lips moistened in anticipation.

Embarrassment at her exposure warred with her crushing desire to feel his hands on her skin, her thighs trembling with need.

And then, she felt his breath against that most intimate part of herself, and barely had time to prepare before his tongue swept through her folds, curling against her hypersensitive flesh.

She groaned at the contact, head falling down, keening her desire for him as the strokes of his tongue became bolder.

It curled against her throbbing clit before dipping into her, alternating between every sensitive, touch-starved part of her, until she felt a familiar coil tightening in her belly.

“Please,” she begged, near sobbing with the power of the pleasure he was giving her, “please, please!”

“Please, what?” His voice was gruff against her skin, dark with desire, sending fresh curls of pleasure through her limbs.

“Please, Nicolas, I’m so close!”

“There’s no need for us to hurry.” The words were spoken with a cruel delight, punctuated with pointed curls of his tongue against her clit, hard enough to keep her close to that delicious precipice, but not hard enough to send her tumbling over into sweet oblivion.

“We’ve got all the time in the world. And I intend to savor this. ”

Daisy moaned in irritation, grinding her hips backwards into him, desperate for him to finish what he started.

He chuckled, low and seductive, and the vibration of it against her was nearly enough to push her over the edge. “Needy girl.”

“Nicolas, please,” she begged, trying to push herself up. He tutted and pushed her back into the couch with a firm hand, his fingers replacing his tongue, pumping agonizingly slowly into her.

“Don’t even think about misbehaving,” he said, grasping the globes of her ass, giving it a gentle smack, “or I might be forced to punish you.”

“You’re already punishing me,” she nearly wept, bucking backwards.

He leaned down again, fingers resuming their infuriating motion deep inside her. “Are you going to be good?” he whispered, curling against a delicious spot deep within her.

“Yes!”

“Yes, what?” he purred.

“Yes, sir! I’m going to be good, sir!”

“I’m very glad to hear it,” he said, and she could hear the triumphant grin in his voice.

She didn’t have the chance to turn back and confirm it before he resumed his ministrations, his tongue moving against her clit with greater urgency.

It only took a few laps to get her back to the edge, so tightly wound was she, and then only a few more to snap that coil entirely.

She wailed out her orgasm as wave after wave of toe-curling pleasure rocked through her. Her inner walls clenched against his fingers as his tongue expertly guided her through her peak, eking every last exquisite drop from her until she was nothing but a boneless mess on the couch beneath him.

“Very good girl,” he breathed, flipping her again onto her back and claiming her lips. She could taste herself on them, and groaned into his mouth.

But he wasn’t done with her yet.

Slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, he reached down and undid his belt buckle, the leather hissing as he pulled it through the belt loops with practiced ease. Daisy gulped, glancing at the belt he toyed between his hands, before throwing it to the side.

“Another time for that, I think,” he said, pressing another kiss to her lips, “after all, like I said, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

She nodded as he removed the rest of his clothing, unable to formulate words as inch after glorious inch of ivory skin was revealed to her.

He had changed since the last time. She knew that, of course, but seeing it up close and personal was a different matter entirely.

Somehow, he was even bigger, his shoulders broader, the muscles of his stomach lithe and settled into their adult power.

And the way he carried himself, like some jungle cat, all coiled power and elegant violence.

Hints of it had been there before, and the years had only distilled it.

Nicolas Accardi was intimidating as all hell. From his wickedly intelligent eyes to the cruel tilt of his lips, to the proud length of his cock jutting out from between his hips, nestled in dark hair.

Compulsively, Daisy swallowed. How the hell had she ever taken all of that? It looked like it would split her in half. He produced a small foil package from the pocket of his trousers, tearing the top off with his teeth, before swiftly rolling the condom over his enormous length.

Somewhere, deep inside her brain, Daisy appreciated the irony.

It seemed he’d finally learned not to fuck without a condom if he didn’t want a surprise baby.

That ship had long sailed for the two of them.

She was distracted, however, when his hand kept pumping over his cock, powerful muscles bracing.

A fresh wave of arousal coursed through her, her body trembling with anticipation.

Nicolas bent down and captured her lips in a searing kiss, nudging her thighs apart to settle between them, the hard length of him rubbing against her center.

“God,” he groaned, his forehead falling to hers, “I can’t tell you how many years I’ve dreamed about this.”

“You have?” she squeaked, her thighs rising to grasp his hips, increasing the friction of his cock against her clit.

“You have no idea,” he growled, bucking against her, coating himself in her juices. “I only got one real taste of you, Daisy Copperfield, and it was enough to drive me mad. You better believe I’m ready for the full fucking feast.”

With that, he began pushing into her, hissing as her walls clamped down on him. She whimpered as inch after overwhelming inch sank into her willing body, her legs trembling, her breathing fast.

After what felt like an eternity, he stopped, their breaths mingling as they panted together. Then, he rocked his hips, and she couldn’t help the groan of pure need that escaped her.

“Good?” he asked her, rocking again, his eyes blazing ice.

“Good!” she whined, doing what she could do move her hips against him. There had been a bite of pain—it had, after all, been years—but her muscles had quickly adjusted to accommodate his size, and now all she could think about was the delicious pleasure just out of reach.

His gaze darkened at her eagerness, and he began rocking into her in earnest, pumping in and out, each stroke harder and faster than the last. She cried out, unable to stop the babbling pleas spilling from her lips, her fingernails scraping against the powerful muscles of his back.

“You’re mine,” he snarled as his hips snapped into hers, “all fucking mine.”

“Yes!” she moaned. “Yes, all yours!”

He snarled in victory, hoisting her legs up over his shoulders, the new angle allowing him to thrust even deeper inside her.

Daisy’s eyes rolled back into her head at every delicious pass of the head of his cock over that sensitive spot deep within her.

She was getting closer again, building up to another delicious orgasm, and as if sensing her need, Nicolas reached a hand between them and rubbed two fingers slick with her juices over her aching clit.

Stars exploded behind her eyes as she came again, clenching around his thick length, a keening whine escaping her lips as her muscles spasmed.

Nicolas wasn’t far behind her, his words pure filth, promising all manner of dark and wicked deeds. Daisy wanted it all. She needed it all.

With a roar, he came, slamming into her, his cock pulsing as he rode out his pleasure.

For a while, they lay there, their breathing heavy, their hearts hammering. Then, still inside her, Nicolas turned them over so that she lay on his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around her as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“That was…” she breathed, skin slick with sweat.

“It was,” he agreed, holding her tight, “and we’ve got all night to continue.”