Worth the Fight (MMA Fighter 1)
Page 39“Mine.” It’s the first word he says to me, and the last before his lips crash down on me in the most wildly, sensual, seductive, possessive kiss I’ve ever had. One of his hands snakes around the back of my neck and he pulls me tighter to him. I feel the inexplicable need to chase away every single molecule that is between us, until there’s nothing left but me and him. Being held together tighter than I’ve ever been held isn’t good enough. I need him inside of me. To be part of me. To be one indivisible body that shares the breath that fills both our lungs.
We’re both panting as we come up for air, our mouths still pressed tightly against each other. Neither one of us willing to release the other first. “Mine,” Nico repeats the word with a growl. The words vibrate on my lips and I feel it shoot all the way down to the already swollen flesh between my legs.
“Yours.” I respond breathlessly.
And then it’s a frantic race to get our clothes off. Nico lifts his hips only enough to somehow maneuver his pants off. Mine he has even less trouble dispensing with. I feel the thick, hard length of him against my bare skin and it makes me shiver with anticipation. I feel my own wetness between my legs, my body ready to take him in even before my mind catches up to it.
Pushing up from the bed at the hips, I tilt upwards the little bit that I can move underneath him, silently urging him to take me. I need him now. Right now.
“Say it again.”
I know what he wants to hear. “Yours.” I whisper quietly as I take his face in my hands and he responds by pushing inside of me. Hard. And deep. His mouth covers mine again, as he stifles my moan with a gentle kiss that contradicts the harshness of his thrust.
He releases my mouth as he stills deep inside of me. “Again.”
Nico pulls his hips back and thrusts into me again even harder. He stretches me wide and again settles between my legs. He doesn’t say anything when he stills, but there’s no doubt what he’s waiting for.
“Yours.”
After a few more deep thrusts that are rewarded with the word he needs to hear, Nico takes my hands and clasps them together, bringing them up and over my head. He holds both my hands in one of his and pulls almost all the way out from inside of me, lifting his body off of mine. I watch as he stops to look down at me. He’s positioned me how he wants me and now he’s admiring his work. My hands secured tightly over my head and my legs spread wide for him, I’m completely and utterly exposed. He doesn’t ask me to say the word again. He doesn’t need too. He sees it laying out before his eyes.
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. For a second he looks peaceful. But then he begins to pound into me. Each thrust deeper and faster than the one before. Our bodies are covered in sweat and each thrust down makes a smacking noise as our bodies slap against each other in fury.
Nico grunts on every plunge down and I cry out on every slippery stroke upward as we find our rhythm together. Instinctively, I try to move to reach out and touch him, but his grip holding my hands above my head tightens, keeping me in place. I feel possessed, completely and totally possessed by this man. And it’s that feeling that sends me over the edge.
I moan through my orgasm, unashamed by what I feel. What he makes me feel. Nico’s body tightens in response to my orgasm and the heat of his se**n pouring into me extends my own release. Together we furiously give ourselves over to the pleasures of our bodies; loud, obscene sounds coming from both of us as we both realize we are climaxing together.
***
“Shh.” Nico’s voice is gentle now. So different from the demanding man who came to me in the middle of the night to stake his claim. He leans over my back and gently kisses the back of my neck, leaving a sweet trail of wet from the nape of my neck up to my ear. “I want you.” His voice is low and throaty in my ear and it sounds incredibly erotic.
“So take me.” I whisper on a small moan as his teeth sink into my ear.
“No. I want you to give yourself to me. I want you, Elle. All of you.”
I turn over to face him and it’s like the first time I’ve ever seen him, even though we only fell asleep a few hours ago. His hair is disheveled and he has the start of a five o’clock shadow on his masculine jaw. The vision steals my breath away. I reach up and cup his jaw in my hand, my thumb stroking his cheek where I know a dimple hides just beneath the surface.
Our eyes meet and I realize he’s serious. He’s not being playful. He wants me to give myself to him and not just in the bed right now. “I want to… but I’m not sure I can.” I respond with honesty.
Nico shuts his eyes and I think I’ve hurt him again. I can’t stand to hurt this man anymore. But then he opens them and surprises me. “We’ll work on it. Together.”
A lone tear escapes my eye and Nico brushes it away before I give myself to him, in the only way I can at the moment. And he takes what I give him, making love to me sweetly when I need it most.
We don’t get out of bed all day, making up for lost time. I missed these quiet moments when we just lay in bed, my head tucked into the crook of his broad shoulder, him stroking my hair with his big hand so gently. I run my finger up and down his breastbone, mindlessly feeling the bumps and curves of the walls of his thick muscles along the way. I’m happy, but there’s a gnawing feeling lurking just beneath my contentment. I know there are things we have to talk about, things that will ruin everything. But I just want to stay in the here and now for a little while longer. I love the way he looks at me, selfishly I don’t want it to change. But I know it will when he finds out.
Sensing my distance, Nico lifts my chin upward to look at him in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Babe. I know we still need to talk.”
I panic, desperate to just be us a while longer. “You need to feed me first.” I give him a wry grin. As if on cue, Nico’s stomach growls, and just like that I get a reprieve. At least for a little while.
***
As usual, Nico lifts me and seats me on the counter while he cooks. I’m wearing his shirt and watching the sinfully sexy man walk around my kitchen in only his jeans, the top button of which is still open. He’s a walking paradox with the ripped muscles of his chest exposed as he moves around the kitchen barefoot, almost gracefully, tossing eggs into a bowl to whip with some other stuff I didn’t even know I had in my fridge. He passes me on his way to the stove and plants a chaste kiss on my lips. Delicious.