Page 5 of Good Girl's Bad Lessons

Shit. He pulled her robe to the side, exposing her white lingerie. It’d been a nod to a possible wedding night, a joke she’d make. Now she second-guessed her decision, as he placed a hand between the valley of her breasts, and the deep tan of his hand contrasted with her pale skin. God, his hand was heavy on her…he kept it still for a moment, and a need formed in her core for much more.

She chewed on her lower lip, unable to yank her gaze from him. He regarded her body, a beam of approval curling his lips. She sucked in a breath to make sure the stubborn roundness of her belly would flatten.

What do I care what he thinks? If Nico wanted a runway model, she bet he had their numbers on speed-dial on his iPhone. This was just a silly challenge.

At last he cupped one of her breasts, teasing it through the fabric of her bra. She drew in a breath again, but for an entirely different reason. She tensed up, sending her body a silent plea to behave. She fought the urge to dive her hands into his hair and stroke his scalp. She curled her fingers into fists at her sides.

He angled closer, and specks of gold flickered around his striking forest green irises… He had amazing eyes. Had they always been so fiery?

He parted his lips and covered her body with his. Whoa. She gasped, feeling the weight of that huge man on her, but within a second he eased off her, propping himself on his elbows. Still, the heat emanating from him quickly made its way into her, upping her body temperature.

He lowered his head, and she caught a whiff of his scent, a wonderful fragrance with notes of bamboo and sandalwood and…Nico. Strong. Seductive. Remarkable, just like the man himself.

She tilted her head up, longing for the kiss, but he withdrew with a devilish grin on his face. He lowered himself onto her, and she arched into him. A heat she wasn’t used to expanded in her chest, searing her insides. I should drink more often before sex.

He closed his mouth on her covered breast, the warmth of his lips enveloping her tit. She moaned, twisting her legs, unable to keep still under his mouth. A raw need entered her, lighting her up like a matchstick. He teased her, running his tongue over the lace. Her nipples strained so much into the fabric, they ached. Her medium-sized breasts felt big and heavy. Whenever he lapped his tongue over her bra, a tingle shot through her, and she clamped her lips to keep from shouting his name. Okay, so he was good at provoking… Didn’t mean he’d make her come, right?

He took his mouth to her other breast, and soon the same pattern began, with him sucking without removing her bra.

“Nico…” She trailed off, unsure of what to say. His name flew from her lips like both an illness and a cure. She couldn’t control the sensations flowing through her, but damn it. Didn’t matter, none of it mattered but the crazy pull she felt toward him.

He lowered one hand down her body, grabbing the hem of her robe and pulling it up. The excessive amount of fabric bunched at her waist, and he headed south. Soon he removed her G-string, sliding it down her legs, and she didn’t miss the fire in his eyes when he glanced at her, semi-naked on the sofa.

With her pussy soaking wet for him.

God. He murmured something in Italian that she didn’t understand but sounded hella sexy. Then he disappeared between her legs, pinning each foot to his shoulder, and she’d never felt more exposed.

She’d waxed specially for tonight, the thin strip of hair in the middle sizzling to make contact with his breath. He traced the outline of her clit with the tip of his tongue, and a ball of heat lodged in her throat. A shiver zipped down her spine, giving her goose bumps.

She’d supposed oral sex was the gateway to Pleasure Land, from what she’d heard from friends. But she’d always been self-conscious to receive pleasure and never let go completely. She pretended to enjoy it, and was good at it.

But this…

This is way better.

He parted her thighs a notch farther, and positioned his head closer to her sex. He flicked her clit with his thumb and stroked her folds with his tongue. She took sharp breaths, her chest rising and falling at a maddening rate.

“Deliciosa…” he said in Italian, and she didn’t need to be a genius to translate. He liked her pearly essence? He responded to her silent question by lashing her folds harder and upping the teasing of her clit. He thrust two fingers inside her, and oxygen failed her for a moment.

She blinked, seeing little dots on her now blurry field of vision. Sweat glistened her forehead and neck, and a heat equal to an African summer radiated through her from top to bottom. She undulated her hips, wanting him to screw her there and then.

“More,” she begged, not wanting that throbbing need to end. Not now, not ever. God. What was happening to her?

He added a third finger to the insatiable teasing game, retreating and shoving them into her sex relentlessly. She gyrated her hips, tingles spreading through her, each time stronger. “That’s it, babe. Let’s get there. Fuck my mouth.”

Groaning, he leaned down and parted her slick folds with his tongue, until he found her opening and thrust his tongue. She undulated her hips, grasping on the sides of the sofa, whimpering. Loud.

When he increased the intensity of his fingers driving in and out of her, she couldn’t take it anymore. He pleasured her with his mouth and fingers, and the tingles from before upgraded to a searing throb. Her insides contracted, the tension reaching a painful level, only to release…a delicious jolt, starting in her core and fast tracking everywhere. She spasmed, and the climax detonated through her, sending her into a crazy spiral.

She mellowed as her body still trembled, each part of her branded by her first-ever orgasm.

By the time Emma’s heart resumed its regular pace, not only had Nico disengaged from her, he had stood. Emma wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and tied her robe, covering herself. She stuck a strand of hair behind her ear, adjusted herself on the sofa, and sat.

“I guess you just showed me, huh?” she said, attempting to keep the mood light.

He paced a couple of times before glancing back at her, but the usual easy smile or cocky, smug look didn’t embellish his face. His brows furrowed, and he stared at her with a degree of frustration.

Was he upset that she didn’t, well, return the favor? “I’ll be happy to do the same for you,” she offered. “I seriously doubt I’ll be half as good at this as you, but—”

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