Page 93 of The Woman at the Funeral

His head dipped, lips whispering down my ear, neck, shoulder.

Goosebumps spread across my skin, little shivers racking my system as his hands grazed—gently removing my bra, my pants, my panties.

My own hands were just as needy—pushing off his jacket, his shirt, removing his belt and pants, then, finally, his underwear.

Before I could explore him, though, he was pressing me flat across the bed, his body leaning over mine, holding himself up, save for his head.

His lips were all over me then.

Sliding down my neck, over my clavicle, down my chest, then over, his tongue circling my nipple until I was arching up into him, my fingers fisted in the sheets.

He shifted slightly, lips sucking my nipple into his mouth until I cried out. Then he moved across my chest to continue the sweet torment.

I was whimpering, begging, trying to grab and pull him up, desperate for the weight of him, for the stretch of him inside me.

But he was unmoved.

He continued his path downward, tongue tracing around my belly button, then across my hips, down my thigh, the inside of my knee, calf, then back up the other leg.

Then finally—finally—slipping between.

The press of his tongue just where I needed it most sent shocks through my system, making me cry out and grab his head, holding him against me as he started to circle.

My hips rocked against him, my fingers fisting his hair, my thighs crushing his head.

I was pure, mindless need.

So much so that when I yanked hard enough on his hair, desperate for the feel of him, he finally came over me.

His hooded, heated eyes were on mine as my legs slid around him, pulling him closer, rocking against him.

“Please, Nico,” I whimpered. “Now, please.”

On a groan, Nico’s hips shifted, then he surged deep inside me.

My cries mingled with his curse.

With the need clawing at us, there was no hesitation. We were moving together, breaths mingling, gasps in sync.

I gave in completely—lost in the flood of sensation and want.

Then I came.

Gasping, clawing, utterly lost. Yet somehow found at the same time, clinging to Nico as he surged deep and came with me.

His weight came down fully on me afterward, crushing, making it hard to breathe. Still, all I did was wrap him up, holding him tighter.

It was Nico who eventually rolled, moving onto his back with me on his chest, his one arm draped around my hips. The other sifted through my hair.

“Blair,” he called, voice still orgasm-rough but edging on serious.

“Hmm?”

“We weren’t exactly… careful this time,” he reminded me.

I’d been too overwhelmed with sensation to think straight in the moment. There were talks that needed to be had, other precautions that should have been taken to prevent consequences.

“I’m, you know… well, through all of my attempts to… you know. I was… tested for everything,” I told him.

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