“I’m going to come,” I pant, feeling the pull and knowing I’m getting ready to crash over the edge. His mouth leaves me, his fingers running over me in soothing strokes, making me jolt and cry out. “I was so close,” I tell him, lifting my hips.
“I got you,” he breathes against my pussy before licking me again. His fingers slide inside, and I cry out again as he flicks over my clit with his tongue. I’m close again, so I squeeze my eyes closed and lift higher, only to have him pull away again.
“Oh my God, I’m going to kill you!” I shout. His chuckle has me trying to kick him.
His hands grab my ankles then thighs, holding tight before his mouth is on me again. This time, his fingers fill me, his mouth covers me, his tongue thrashes before pulling my clit into his mouth, my head presses deeper into the bed, and I scream as I come harder and longer than I ever have. I feel like I’m floating on a cloud before I slowly come back to my body. The feeling is so overwhelming that I feel tears spring to my eyes.
He pulls the tie at my wrist, flips me over onto my stomach, lifts my hips, and slides into me, slowly filling me inch by inch; I can feel his piercing dragging inside me, hitting all the right spots. The nipple clamps attached to my nipples pull them down, and the feeling of them dragging against the sheets causes me to moan. I arch my back, lifting my ass higher wanting it deeper.
“Shit, baby,” Nico groans from behind me, the noises he’s making spurring me on. His hands go under my arms, lifting me up and impaling me on him. Then one arm goes around my chest and the other hand slides down to my clit. With each thrust, my breasts bounce, causing a jolt of electricity to shoot from my nipples to my clit. “I need you to come, Sophie. Come with me.”
Nico shouts his release, pulling off the clamps one at a time then slapping my clit. The shock sends me over the edge and lights flash behind my closed eyelids. I can feel Nico deep inside me, his come filling me. We’re both breathing heavily as he leans us forward, falling into the bed with him behind me, wrapping himself around me.
“That was wow,” I say once I can talk.
“Yes, it was wow.” His lips travel up my neck to my ear. “So when are we getting married?” he asks, pulling my hand up.
I look over my shoulder and see that his eyes are on the ring on my hand. “Whenever you want.”
“Do you want a big wedding?” he asks, looking at my hand then me.
“Honestly, I’m okay with just getting the license then doing dinner or something.” I don’t want a big thing; I don’t really have anyone I would invite besides Maggie and Devon.
“I don’t care either. I just need you. The rest doesn’t even matter.”
“Then we agree?” I ask.
“I do want it done before the baby gets here.”
“It’s not a chore.” I roll my eyes.
“Baby.” He chuckles, kissing my shoulder again. This time, I bite my lip. My hormones are turning me into a crazy woman.
“Okay. Before the baby gets here,” I agree before turning around to face him. “I’m so sleepy.”
“Let me get you cleaned up so you can sleep.”
I watch as he walks into the bathroom of the hotel room. I hear the water running, and then he comes back to me and gently cleans between my legs before tossing the washcloth towards the bathroom. I lean over and turn off the lamp as he gets into bed, pulling me into him and the blanket over us.
“I love you,” I whisper, cuddling deeper into his side.
“You too, baby. Sweet dreams.” He kisses my forehead, and before I can reply, I’m asleep.
I unlock the front door and run to the phone, trying to reach it before the answering machine picks up. “Hello?” I breathe when I finally get it to my ear. Tossing my bag on the counter, I unhook the rest of the shopping bags from my arms.
“This is a collect call from Seattle Correctional Facility from inmate”—the automated voice clicks off and a man’s voice comes on the line—“William Grates.” Then it’s back to the automated voice. “Do you accept this call?”
I stand there, frozen. I can still remember the sound of his voice after all these years. It’s like nothing has changed.
“This is a collect call from…” the automated voice repeats itself.
It takes me a second to realize what the voice said—Seattle Correctional Facility. My dad is in prison. I quickly slam the phone down into its cradle and take a few deep breaths. I can’t talk to my dad now; there’s just no way. Why the hell is he calling me, anyways? Better yet—how the hell did he get this number? The phone starts ringing again and I have the urge to run away and hide.