Page 22 of The Woman at the Funeral (Costa Family #11)

Blair

We’d had a quick dinner of store-bought gnocchi mixed with some veggies and homemade sauce Nico threw together.

We walked Goya.

We sat on the couch eating ice cream and watching some cheesy cop drama until we were both nodding off.

Then I went into the bedroom.

And lay awake for hours.

Mind racing, body humming.

I’d maybe only gotten a couple of stolen hours of sleep when I crawled out of bed in the morning, careful not to wake up the peaceful Goya who had, indeed, slept by my feet all night, keeping them warm.

I had my heart set on a cup of coffee and a few moments to quiet my mind as I came out of the bathroom after brushing my teeth and combing my hair.

But then, well, I strode right into Nico’s chest.

His bare chest.

His arm went automatically behind me, holding me closer, making my body press to his.

There was nothing but my silk pajama set and his sleep pants between us.

There was nothing to stop me from feeling how my breasts crushed to his hard chest. Or the way his cock stiffened between us.

I couldn’t even keep the little whimper that built up inside at the feel of him.

At the sound, Nico sucked in a deep breath. Which only made my breasts press more firmly against him.

His fingers clenched, digging into my hip as one of my own went to his upper arm, loving the way the muscles tensed under my touch.

Did I maybe arch my lower body in closer to him, feeling his hardness against my belly?

Yes, yes, I did.

My head tipped back.

Then there were those lovely eyes of his. Heavy-lidded, his desire as clear as my own must have been right then.

His gaze searched mine, looking for something. I wasn’t sure if he found it, or didn’t, but I did know that he turned suddenly, pressing me back against the wall.

His hand slipped from my hip to grab the back of my leg, lifting it up and spreading it against the wall, opening me up to him.

Then he was stepping closer, his thick need pressing against my desire.

There was no stopping the throaty sound that escaped me then as need exploded across every nerve ending.

My body reacted before my mind caught up, my hips rocking against him. A hard shiver racked my system as he brushed across my aching clit.

With a rumbling sound, Nico pressed in, harder, making my head fall back on a moan.

Nico leaned in, his lips on my neck, creating more sparks of need as our hips rocked together.

My soft whimpers grew louder with each passing moment as Nico’s lips traced down my neck, then between my breasts.

Then he suddenly dropped my leg and moved back a step. There was no stopping the objection that bubbled up and burst out.

“Shh,” Nico murmured, lowering down, his face sliding down my belly, my hips, then the triangle above my sex.

His hands slid up my thighs, grabbing the material of my shorts and panties and slowly dragging them down.

I stepped out.

Then he was lifting my leg over his shoulder, and his face was between my thighs, his tongue tracing up my center.

My hand slapped to the back of his head, holding him against me as his tongue found my clit and started to gently—almost reverently—circle me.

My hips were impatient, rocking against him as he worked me. My heartbeat fluttered in my chest, my muscles tightening and trembling with the need for release.

The press of his mouth, the twirl of his tongue, was a promise—slow, sure, entirely undoing.

“Nico, please,” I whimpered, fingers digging into his head as he kept the same slow, torturous pace, driving me up achingly slowly.

Pleasure tightened, gathering low and hot like a wave about to crest. Until, with a shuddering cry, it crashed through me, pulling me under over and over.

After, Nico’s head slipped to the side, kissing up my thigh, across my hip, then gaining his feet to press another kiss to my neck.

I hooked my leg around him as my arms slid around his neck.

“Nico,” I whimpered, rocking against his hard length.

I should have felt contented.

But all I felt was a clawing sort of need.

For more.

For all of him.

His hands went down, lifting my other leg until they were both around his hips.

Then his head ducked, and his lips found mine with purpose, with just the right pressure to drag a moan from my lips, his mouth swallowing the sound.

His hips rocked against me as his lips slanted over mine—slower, deeper.

His tongue swept over mine, slow at first, then more demanding, hungrier, as my hips started to move with him.

Then he was moving, turning and walking toward the living room.

He turned, lowering down onto the couch with me astride him.

My hips dropped down, my lips ripping from his as a moan escaped me.

There was no restraint in me then; I rocked against him hard and fast, driving myself up as his lips swallowed my cries.

Nico’s hands slid upward, gently pulling my shirt until I had to break the kiss to let him pull it free.

His molten gaze stayed on my face for a moment as his hips bucked up against me, dragging a throaty sound out of me.

But then his eyes were drifting, moving down to take me in.

He sucked in a deep breath that shuddered in his chest. His hand moved up over my ribs, then slipped inward to cup one of my breasts.

He watched as his hand squeezed, then his finger and thumb rolled my nipple, making my hips rock against him as the touch sparked.

His other hand rose, teasing my other breast.

Pleasure bloomed as his cock twitched beneath me.

Suddenly, I was moving, sliding back, away.

I saw the slash of disappointment move across his features.

Until he saw me sliding down between his thighs, my hands slipping upward to free him from his thin sleep pants.

Nico sucked in a deep breath as I took in the sight of him. Hard and straining, making my sex clench hard in anticipation of the shape of him, the feel of him.

I closed my hand around the base of his cock and lowered down, teasing my tongue around the head.

I took my time, watching the way his breath caught, feeling his hips buck, seeing his muscles tense.

Holding his length up straighter, my lips met the base of the underside of him, then slowly slid upward.

His hand fisted on his thigh.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice raw, like the pleasure hurt.

I knew that feeling all too well.

Making it back to the head, I slowly let my lips close around it.

His hips bucked upward, needy, involuntary.

His eyes fluttered shut, but opened right up again—like he didn’t want to miss a second.

His reaction spurred me on, moving lower, taking him deeper.

Beneath me, a tremble moved through him as I took him so deep he brushed against the back of my throat.

His hand lifted, slipping behind my neck as his eyes burned.

There was no more teasing then.

I moved up and down his length, loving the grunts and groans and hisses he made.

There was something powerful in the way he came undone for me, how he gasped my name, how his fingers started to crush the back of my neck, like he was just barely holding back the urge to take over.

My own need was a live wire through my system, sparking hotter with each sound he made, each twitch of his muscles.

I had to press my thighs together to ease the ache between. But the pressure had a moan escaping me, the sound and sensation vibrating around his length.

His hand went to my hair then, sinking in, pulling until his cock slipped out from between my lips. He kept pulling. “Come up here,” he demanded, voice rough as he kept pulling me upward.

As soon as I was straddling him again, our lips met again—sloppy and desperate—and everything that followed was heat.

His hands drifted up and down my back, sank into my ass, rocked me against his length, this time with nothing between us.

I lost one of his hands as he reached out toward the end table, fumbling with something until he came back with a condom, reaching between us to slide it on.

Finished, he rocked me against him again.

My thighs bracketed his hips, and we both froze for a breathless second before I started to sink down.

His eyes blew wide as he slowly slipped inside me.

Our breaths caught in unison, almost like he was as shocked at the sensation as I was, at the rightness .

The stretch made me gasp, but I couldn’t stop, I needed more, needed to feel him settled deep.

“You okay?” His voice was rough and soft at the same time as my hips settled on his lap.

I couldn’t form words, too overwhelmed with sensation. All I managed was a tight little nod.

Drawing in a steadying breath, I rocked my hips experimentally. And my body accepted the feel of him slowly, then completely. Like I’d been waiting for him all along.

Nico cursed low and pressed his head to my shoulder, overwhelmed.

“You feel—”

He couldn’t finish.

He didn’t need to.

Our breaths tangled, stuttering in time with the next roll of my hips.

His head lifted, gaze holding mine as the rhythm built naturally—instinct and need taking over.

Nico’s hands were everywhere, as if he couldn’t decide what part of me needed him most.

My body flushed, trembling, but I didn’t want it to end. Not yet.

I braced my hands on his chest, watching every expression flicker across his gorgeous face as I moved.

He whispered my name like something sacred.

I swear my heart whispered back.

Every time I sank down, it felt like I was sinking deeper into him. And I never wanted to come up for air.

I tightened around him, watching the way his lips parted in a sigh at the sensation.

“Beautiful,” he murmured.

I came apart first, a rush of heat flooding through me as I collapsed into him, crying out against his chest as the pleasure moved through me over and over.

He followed after with a broken sound, his hips jerking up once, twice—then still.

His arms wrapped around me tight, like holding onto me was the only thing keeping him grounded. I melted into him for the same reason.

Our breathing was in sync, but frantic. Against my cheek, his heartbeat was thudding hard. A little shiver moved through me.