Page 30 of Lethal Infatuation

More silence surrounded us before I finally answered, "Because I knew that when I saw you again, I'd never be able to let you go and now look." I paused. "I'm unable to leave you alone, Gabriella. I'mfucked."

We never made it to Central Park. Well, we never got out of the car, but we were currently parked on the sidewalk near our desired location.

Nicolas and I were too immersed in each other and the conversation to get out of his vehicle. He wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me closer to him.

"I don't think you understand how badly I want you, how badly I crave you." His lips ghosted over mine, barely touching them, but the action had me yearning for him. "I had one taste of you, but I need more."

"Nico," I whispered, closing my eyes and inhaling his freshly scented cologne. "I think we should take things slow."

"You're torturing me." He slid his fingers into my hair, tugging on the curly locks. My head tilted backward, exposing the column of my neck. Soft kisses and nibbles were left all over my skin. "I've been thinking about you nonstop for the past month."

"Are you under the impression that I haven't been thinking about you?" I whimpered as I placed both hands on his shoulders and dug my nails into the fabric of his shirt.

He hissed softly, but continued his kisses in my neck. "Have you?"

"There hasn't been a day that's gone by where I didn't think about you and what we did. I've had flashbacks while I was at work."

"So I'm not the only one that's been suffering." His lips skimmed against my jaw, brushing against my cheek until he reached the shell of my ear. "What does taking things slow entail?" he questioned.

"No sex," I answered quickly making him groan. "Only kisses."

"Where?"

"What?" I asked, too far gone to understandwhat the question meant.

"Where can I kiss you?" he whispered in my ear. "Can I kiss you between your legs, too?"

"No."

"You're killing me." He bit my earlobe. "You're actually going to be the fucking death of me." Nicolas wrapped his hand around my throat and kept me at arm’s length.

My head made contact with the window, the cool feeling a huge contrast to the warmth of his touch and body. I wrapped my hands around his forearm, trying to open my eyes so I could look at him.

"Okay, I'll respect your decision." He tightened his grip, making me gasp. "No inappropriate touching. Nofucking." Dirty words and his rough hands on my body was an extremely dizzying combination. "From this day onward, you're mine, Gabriella. Do you understand me?"

I nodded, unable to utter a coherent response. "I asked you a question," he grunted. "Use your words and answer me."

"Yes." I bit my lower lip. "I understand you, Nicolas. I do." He released me, leaning back in his seat.

He looked at me with a fierce intensity. "I desperately want to wrap that long, curly hair around my fist and fuck that pretty mouth until you're sobbing." I gasped at his words, heat spreading to my cheeks.

He shifted slightly and my eyes landed on the bulge in his pants. "I don't want to hear anything." He started the car. "I'm taking you home before I break your rules, and I wouldn't want that."

"This is most likely just an excuse to see where I live," I said while Nicolas started driving, the speed at which he drove gradually increasing.

"Sweetheart," he paused, "I already know where you live." I side eyed him and rolled my eyes at his matter of fact tone.

"Of course, you do." I placed my palm on his thigh, squeezing it gently before slowly sliding it upward. His jaw ticked and I smiled, knowing it affected him.

"Gabriella." It was a warning, a big neon sign if you will, but I ignored him. "Gabriella, I swear to God, if you don't stop that—"

"What?" I asked innocently. "I'm not even doing anything."

"You know exactly what you're doing and it's going to get you into a lot of trouble."

"I've never been in trouble before, it almost soundsexciting." Inch by inch, I moved my palm closer to his extremely evident bulge. With one hand placed on the steering wheel, he used the other to place it on my hand—effectively stopping my movements.

He didn't look my way, his tone menacing while he spoke. "You have five seconds to remove your hand, Gabriella." I was beginning to hate my rule to take things slow because the dull ache between my legs intensified.

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