Page 32 of Where the Wicked Reign

Our gazes clashed.

“You can let go,principessa.”

I dug my nails into his pecs, and it earned me a sexy groan.

Groaning was going to be the least of it.

I proved that in the next moment as I raked my nails down the length of his chest, over his abs, all the way down to the waistband of his pants, drawing blood all the way down as I dug in deep.

“Fuck,” he cried out, grasping my thighs and grinding his very hard cock beneath the hem of my slip, right against my bare pussy.

Pleasure ignited there, but it was intensified from seeing his reaction to my viciousness. He wasn’t shocked. He wasn’t disgusted. He wasn’t turned off in the least.

He didn’t just want it; he encouraged it.

Just like he had with ourwarover the last few years.

And because we’d been doing fucked-up things to each other from afar all that time, it wasn’t hard for me to get into it, to let that frame of mind loose, to letmyselfloose.

I sank into it and leaned in, slicking my tongue over the blood now trailing down his chest, following it from his pecs all the way down to his waistband.

“Yes… incredible,” he growled, tightening his grip around my thighs and grinding rougher against me, the friction driving me fucking crazy, just like the taste of him on my tongue was.

I was halfway done licking him up when he suddenly yanked me up by my hair.

In the next second, he was grabbing the bust of my slip, then ripping it down to my waist, exposing my breasts.

“Stunning,” he breathed, taking them in.

Instead of reaching up to touch them, he dropped his hands.

I frowned, and he smirked.

And then he was running his fingers through the blood remaining on his chest.

He had me gasping in the next second as he brought those coated hands to my breasts, then rubbed the blood all over them.

“Oh my God,” I choked, arching my back and pushing harder into him, watching them being painted, touched, and teased all at the same time.

He started rolling and pinching my nipples as he went, sending shudders through me, and I ground on his dick through his pants roughly, the desperate need for that sweet friction climbing with every passing second.

A sudden snarl came from him, and then he was rolling me beneath him.

Before I could even catch my breath, he was there, descending on me, smothering my breasts, then licking and sucking at them like a ravenous animal.

Holy. Hell.

“Nico…shit,”I cried out, tugging at his hair and writhing beneath him, completely beside myself.

I felt his hands ripping open his pants between us, but he didn’t stop with that talented tongue and mouth for a second.

He had me gasping in the next moment when he freed his cock and I felt it bare against me, all that hardness sliding through my soaking wet folds. He snarled like an animal, then started nudging against my clit over and over, sending sparks of intense bliss through me that had me moaning out and digging my nails into his scalp.

“Say it,” he demanded, lifting his head to look at me. “Say you need me to fuck your dripping wet cunt.”

“Fuck me,” I panted. “Don’t… don’t hold back.”

He stared at me for a moment, a struggle taking place all over his face.

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