Page 23 of Stricken

"Fuck, you're just as good as I remember," Nico moans, biting his lips.

With a surge of strength, I flip us over, pinning Nico beneath me. I'm not bottoming. Not even with him, although it's clear he's got the real alpha energy. His blue eyes flash with heat and challenge as I straddle his hips.

"Got you." I drop my head to claim his roguish mouth once more.

Then I land several kisses along his jaw, savoring the rasp of stubble against my lips. Moving lower, I nip at the spot just below his ear, drawing a gasp from him. My tongue traces the column of his throat, tasting a hint of salt and expensive cologne.

As I work my way down his chest, the fine hairs tickle my mouth. I pause to swirl my tongue around a hardened nipple and Nico arches into the touch, hips bucking upward to rub against my length.

"Christ," he pants, fingers grasping at my hair.

"You're crediting Him for all my hard work?" I murmur against his pec.

"Look who's talking." He reaches up to grab the golden cross I'm wearing around my neck. My mother gave it to me when I was little, right after I was baptized. I hardly remember the event, but I haven't taken the cross off ever since. Sometimes, it feels like a part of me, part of my body. Sometimes I even forget it's there.

"Very nicely crafted," Nico purrs out a compliment, studying the cross. His fingers brush over the metalwork but he doesn't follow up with the question as if sensing I won't reply anyway.

For a moment, memories of my mother threaten to surface. I push them away, focusing instead on the warm solid body beneath me.

"Didn't take you for religious type," Nico comments.

"I'm full of surprises," I reply, grazing his collarbone with my teeth.

My hand snakes between us, palming Nico's cock through his briefs. He's rock hard, the fabric damp with pre-cum. I stroke him, reveling in the way his hips lift up seeking more friction.

"Hot Shot," Nico groans, "stop teasing."

I'm so absorbed in drawing those delicious sounds from him that I don't notice his legs wrapping around my waist until it's too late. With a swift motion, he flips our positions, reversing our roles.

My back is pressed up to the bedding now, my heart thundering in my chest. I hate losing control like this, losing power, when I least expect it.

Nico grins down at me triumphantly. "Looks like you didn't get the memo,caro. I'm always on top."

I narrow my eyes. "That's not how this works. You can only be on top if you're sucking my dick."

His laugh is rich and throaty. "Careful what you wish for, Vladimir."

"Why?" I challenge. "You that good?"

Instead of answering, Nico just winks and begins kissing a trail down my chest and to my stomach. As he slips lower, his lips begin to feel like a blaze scorching path down my abdomen. Each time there's contact, it ignites nerve endings I had no idea existed in me. My breath catches as he reaches the sensitive skin below my navel. His tongue darts out, tracing lazy circles that make my cock twitch in anticipation.

"Fuck," I hiss, fingers clenching the sheets.

I feel Nico's smirk against my skin before he pulls my boxers down and takes me into his mouth without warning. There's no hesitation. He knows what he is doing. He's probably done it before many times. The sudden wet heat that engulfs me short-circuits my brain.

My body convulses from the onslaught of pleasure as Nico's firm grip keeps me pinned to the mattress. Every movement of his mouth around my length sends ripples of electric sensation through my limbs. My hips strain against his hold, my cock is begging for release already, but he only tightens his grasp, torturing me further.

"Fucking hell," I groan, struggling to form coherent thoughts as Nico's tongue swirls around my shaft.

He works me with expert precision, alternating between long, languid strokes and quick, teasing flicks. My resolve crumbles; I'm putty in his hands—or rather, his mouth.

His fingers dance across my balls, adding a new dimension of thrill that has me seeing stars. I fight to maintain some semblance of control, but it's a losing battle.

"I'm close," I warn, voice strained.

He only doubles his efforts in response, hollowing his cheeks and taking me deeper. The sight of those piercing blue eyes gazing up at me, framed by dark lashes, is my undoing when I lift my head to look at him.

Release crashes over me drowning out all rational thought. I come with a guttural moan, spilling down Nico's throat. He swallows every drop, milking me until I'm spent and oversensitive.

---