Page 73 of Bully Wolf's Nanny
So she decided to face it head-on.
Nicolas, pouring himself a strong whiskey in his study, smiled warmly as she crept inside and shut the door softly behind her.
“I thought you wanted to go to bed?”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” she confessed, crossing over to him when he gestured for her to join him on the chairs by the fireplace. Instead of letting her settle into the one opposite him, he hooked her around the waist and pulled her down into his lap, grinning as she squealed.
“I can think of a few remedies for that,” he murmured into her neck, brushing soft kisses there that sent pleasant tingles down her spine.
“So that’s it?” she asked breathily, unwilling to pull away. “We’re just…together now?”
He scoffed. “Daisy, I’ve wanted to make you mine since I first laid eyes on you. There’s nothing left that can keep us apart. My father, the Old Guard, Francesca, they’re all gone and they’re not coming back. What else do you need?”
“I…” she started, tilting her head to give him better access to her jawline, “I just…so much has happened. There have been so many…so many lies. From both of us. How do we know what’s real?”
He pulled back, turning her in his lap to look into his eyes. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her fingers playing in the short dark hairs at the back of his head. For the first timesince she had known him, there was nothing but kindness in his eyes as he looked at her. She sucked in a breath, feeling herself falling further, impossibly, into the depths of him.
“I’ll tell you what’s real,” he murmured, “what’s real is you’re here, in my house, in myarms. Our two girls are sleeping upstairs, happy and warm and loved. That’ll all there is to it. That’s all that there needs to be.”
She ducked her head shyly. “Our girls?”
“Of course,” he said, “you’re the only woman I want as the mother to my children, Daisy. The mother toallmy children. That is…if you want to be?”
His tone had taken on a softer edge, cautious and calculating. Daisy realized with a start that this was the closest that Nicolas Accardi would ever get tonervous.
“Of course!” she said, pressing her face into his neck, “of course I do!”
He released a shuddering breath, hand cradling the back of her head, his other steady and firm at her back.
“Good. I’ll have my lawyer draw up the paperwork. Of course, it’s a simpler process because you’re also a shifter, but I imagine there will be some complications with—"
She cut him off with her lips, silencing his ramblings. The change in him was instantaneous.
His growl was feral as he stood, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. Her legs wrapped around his hips, and she could feel the hardness of him rubbing against her. She whimpered into his mouth as he carried her out of the office and down the corridor to his bedroom.
Before, in his New York apartment, it had been like a ferocious battle of wills. A constant push and pull as each tried to get the upper hand with lips and teeth and tongue.
Not this time. This time, Daisy was too tired, too content, to fight. She was happy to just melt into his arms and let him claim her in each and every way he desired. Too long had she fought against it, tried to deny it, run from it. No more.
When he placed her down on his bed, still dominating her mouth, his movements were gentle. Reverent, even. He pressed every inch of his body into hers, weighing her down into the mattress, and she was only too happy to relent to the onslaught of him.
He made quick work of her clothes, tearing them from her body with the same vigor as before, but this time she didn’t shy away. She let him look at her, all of her, drink in her form with greedy eyes and vicious glee. The intensity in his blue eyes sent sparks shooting down her spine.
When his head dipped lower, nipping at her breasts, tongue tracing a path over her stomach, she let her thighs fall open for him. He grinned wickedly at her compliance. “There’s my good girl.”
It only took a few expert laps of his tongue at her clit to have her grasping his hair and moaning his name. All the tension of the day, the stress and fear and panic, had wound a knot so tight in her that she felt on the verge of collapse at just a few strokes of his deft fingers. It wasn’t long before she was falling apart, her orgasm exploding like a supernova within her.
Instead of boneless and satiated, it only made her hungrier.
She sat up, rolling them over so that she was on top of him, hands pinning his wrists down on either side of his head.He smirked lazily at her, shifting his hips so that she could feel every inch of his hardness through his trousers. His dark hair was tousled, blue eyes so heavy with desire that they were nearly black. His designer shirt was rumpled, several buttons undone, revealing the smooth, pale expanse of his lean chest.
Overall, he looked like the very incarnation of sin. Her own personal Lucifer, sent to damn her to the fiery pits of hell.
Perhaps together, they could find redemption.
She could still see her arousal shimmering on his lips. Impulsively, she bent forward to lick them, relishing the taste of herself on his tongue.
“I’ve got you now,” she whispered against his skin, “I win.”
