Page 47 of Owning Nicci

Savio pauses, as if he’s not sure what to say to that. “Two days,” he says finally. “I have a lead where this Vince fellow lives. We should be able to hit him there. After that, we’ll take out the two others, and the Crows will be finished.”

“And then my father and brother.” I look at him, wondering if he’s going to say he’s changed his mind about that part of the deal, but he just nods.

“Of course.”

There’s no mention of what happens after that—of what happens tomeafter, of what his plans might be for me. I don’t push, because I’m not sure I want to know. Today has left me feeling as if I’m standing on uneven ground, and the only thing I know how to do is to keep moving forward—slowly. To focus on the next target.

We finish dinner, including a creme brulee that melts in my mouth, and head back to the car that’s waiting at the curb. Savio is silent on the drive back to the penthouse, and I wonder what he’s thinking. What will he want when we get back? I haven’t done anything to upset him today, so technically, there’s no reason I can think of for him to punish me, but he might take me to the playroom anyway, purely for his own pleasure after the day he’s just orchestrated for me. He’ll wantsomekind of payback, surely. The thought doesn’t upset me as much as it should. Instead, I feel a warm, curling anticipation in my stomach at the thought of it, even as I know I should be hoping that he leaves me alone.

What if this new…kindness is him turning over a new leaf? Seeing things differently?It doesn’t change anything about what he’s done, of course, or mean that I should forgive him. But what if I could enjoy the physical part of our relationship for what it is? What if I allowed myself that pleasure…use him for it, the way he’s using me? The chemistry between us is there. It’s been there since the very beginning. And if I let myself enjoy what there is between us, maybe the days or weeks between now and when I’m finally free could be good for us both.

What’s the harm in it? It’s not as if I could fall for him. Not after everything he’s done.

To my surprise, instead of taking me to the playroom, he has the security guard carry all of the bags up to my room, and leads me there, motioning for the man to go once we’re in the room.

“You’ll be busy putting all of this away for the rest of the night, I expect,” he says, glancing at the bags. “I’ll see what I can do about getting some kind of entertainment for you—a television, or maybe some books, if you tell me what you like to read.”

“Maybe we’ll go to the bookstore next time.” It’s meant to be a joke, but it comes out before I realize that he might take it as anassumption that there will be more days like this, when I’m still shocked that there was even a single day like this one at all. But Savio just looks at me for a long moment before shrugging.

“Maybe,” he agrees, startling me. “It’s been a long day, and I still have work I need to do. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turns to leave, and I almost protest, despite myself. Today has felt different, hasbeendifferent, and a part of me doesn’t want it to end. What if tomorrow, it all goes back to the way it was before? What if Savio changes his mind and he’s cruel again, making up for today’s momentary lapse?

I watch him go as I stand there, still fully clothed, with bags and bags of all of today’s purchases surrounding me. It feels like it could be a trap. Itmightbe a trap. But I’ve craved something like this for so long.

Savio stood up for me today. He defended me. He told me that as long as I’m his, no one will treat me cruelly ever again.

A part of me wants to believe him. To sink into it and enjoy it while it lasts. And a part of me wants to give him something, too, for making me feel protected, wanted…even if it was only for a day.

It takes me a minute to realize that he didn’t lock the door behind him. Maybe he forgot, or maybe it was intentional—to see what I’d do if I were granted a fraction of freedom.

I bite my lip. I have some idea of what I might do with it. A way to keep Savio malleable, pleased, and to gain back a little more of my power.

And who knows?

Maybe I’ll even get some pleasure out of it, too.

17

SAVIO

Asoft, slender hand is brushing against my aching cock. I can feel delicate fingertips sliding up and down my length, pausing to circle that sensitive spot just beneath the tip, then trailing up over the swollen head. I feel a finger tap, sweeping up the pearl of pre-cum beading at the tip, dragging it back down my length. I shift against the softness of my mattress, warm and drowsy and still half-asleep, languorous with pleasure.

Another hand slips between my legs, cupping my balls, nails scratching against the sensitive flesh. My hips arch up, a groan slipping from my mouth as I feel the warm, wet slide of full lips stretching around my cockhead, dragging me deeper into tight, wet?—

I jolt awake, expecting the sensation to stop, anticipating the disappointment of losing the dream. I’ve had a number of dreams like that ever since I brought Nicci here, though most of which end with me wrapping my own hand around my?—

The sensation hasn’t stopped. There’s a hand wrapped around me, a hot mouth sliding exquisitely down the length of my cock, and it feels so fucking good.

There’s someone in my fucking bed.

I throw the covers back, all my senses scrambled as I veer between alarm and arousal, and I shove myself backward, a shock of cool air hitting my damp, aching cock as I stare down at the intruder in my room.

Nicci is in my bed. It takes a moment for that to register as I look down at her, nestled between my thighs where a moment ago, she was under my blankets, sucking my cock.

The part of my mind that’s hopelessly, horribly aroused, tells me to encourage her to keep going. I’m so fucking hard, throbbing and halfway to orgasm, and she looks beautiful—delicate and perfect—against the soft grey sheets of my bed, her blonde hair loose around her face and her body framed in a pink silk nightgown edged in lace. It’s one of the items she bought yesterday—I saw her pick it up and was instantly hard at the thought of her in the fragile lingerie.

“What the fuck are you doing?” The rational part of my brain speaks first, the one that wonders how the hell I forgot to lock her door last night, and why her first inclination upon discovering it was to sneak into my room and start sucking my cock.

Isn’t that the best possible outcome?My cock jerks, pre-cum sliding down the shaft, and I curl my hand into a fist to keep from reaching for her and yanking her mouth back onto it. Coming down her throat sounds like heaven right now, but there are more important things to focus on at the moment.

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