CHAPTER 82 - THE DON'S VIRGIN WIDOW
"If you insist on sitting in the dark with me, Don Nico," Mara whispered softly, turning her back to him as she walked slowly toward her closet, "then you better keep your hands to yourself."
A low, tortured groan vibrated through the quiet room. "Do not push me tonight, Mara," Nico warned in a dark, strained rasp voice. "I am holding onto my control by a single, frayed thread."
Mara paused near the closet door, looking back at the puddle of midnight-blue silk resting on the soft rug like she didn't hear him.
"I should probably hang that up," she murmured innocently. "Silk wrinkles so easily."
She walked slowly back to the center of the room.
Instead of crouching down, she bent at the waist, keeping her legs straight. The deliberate movement perfectly highlighted the curve of her hips and the tiny scrap of black lace she was wearing.
She wiggled just a fraction as she reached down, pretending to struggle to get a good grip on the fabric.
A heavy, tortured curse slipped from Nico's lips in the dark.
Mara could hear the leather of his shoes shift as he gripped the armrests of the chair even tighter, fighting every instinct in his body to stay seated.
"You are playing a very dangerous game, Mara," Nico warned.
"Me? I'm just tidying up, Nico," she replied softly.
She picked up the dress, draped it casually over her arm, and walked straight toward the bathroom without looking back. She made sure her hips swayed just a little more than usual.
"Goodnight, Don Nico," she called softly, stepping into the bathroom and pulling the door shut behind her.
As soon as the latch clicked, Mara leaned her back against the cool wood of the door and let out a heavy breath she didn't even know she was holding.
Her heart was hammering loudly against her ribs. Her skin felt hot, and a deep, heavy ache had pooled in her lower stomach. She was highly turned on. Playing with fire was thrilling, especially when the fire was a man as dangerous and powerful as Nico Ferrante.
She hung her dress on a hook, took off the black lace underwear, and walked over to the large glass shower. She turned the golden handle, letting the water heat up until thick steam began to fill the room.
Mara stepped under the spray and closed her eyes, letting the hot water wash over her skin. She wanted to wash away the stress of the Battaglia dinner, the fear of Gianni's trap, and the burning tension of Nico sitting in the dark just a few feet away.
She wanted to relax her muscles and clear her head.
But the image of Nico's pitch-black eyes refused to leave her mind.
About five minutes passed. The bathroom was completely clouded with steam, creating a private, hazy sanctuary.
But suddenly, the bathroom door clicked open.
Mara's eyes flew open. Through the frosted glass of the shower door, she saw a tall, broad silhouette step into the steamy room.
Then, the heavy glass door swung open to reveal Nico standing just outside.
He had taken off his white shirt, leaving his broad, muscular chest completely bare and putting his dark, violent syndicate tattoos on full display. Although he was still wearing his expensive tailored suit trousers, he didn't seem to care. His dark, hungry eyes remained locked on her.
Mara crossed her arms over her chest instinctively. "What... what are you doing, Nico?" she stammered.
Nico stepped right into the shower. The hot water instantly soaked his dark hair and plastered his expensive trousers to his legs.
"You put on a beautiful little show out there in the bedroom," Nico said. His voice was a low, dangerous rumble over the sound of the running water. "I came in here to complete it."
He took another step forward, forcing Mara to back up until her bare shoulders hit the cool, wet tiles of the shower wall.
"I told you to keep your hands to yourself," Mara tried to say, but her voice completely betrayed her. It was breathless, weak, and entirely unconvincing.
Nico placed a large, wet hand flat against the tile right next to her head, caging her in. Water dripped from his strong jaw and ran over his collarbone.
"You told me to keep my hands to myself in the dark," Nico corrected smoothly, his gaze dropping to her lips before slowly tracking down her wet, bare body. "We aren't in the dark anymore."
Mara swallowed hard. His massive body was just inches away from hers. The heat radiating from him was entirely overwhelming, mixing with the steam of the shower to make her head spin.
Nico tilted his head, a dark smirk playing on his lips. "You were so brave a minute ago, Regent. You were teasing me. What happened to all that confidence?"
Mara lifted her chin, trying desperately to find her footing. She refused to cower. "I… I am still... I am still confident," she teased, reaching out to rest a trembling hand against his wet, solid chest. She felt the heavy, rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath her palm. "I just didn't expect you to ruin a five-thousand-dollar pair of pants."
"I don't care about the pants," Nico whispered. "I don't care about anything else right now."
Mara's eyes fluttered, but she tried to hold onto her teasing edge. "Then what do you care—"
He didn't give her a chance to finish the question. Nico closed the final inch between them and crashed his mouth down onto hers.
Mara gasped in pure shock.
The second her lips parted, Nico deepened the kiss, completely taking over. There was no hesitation, no holding back, and no polite restraint. It was a fierce, possessive, soul-stealing claim that took the air right out of her lungs. He tasted like expensive whiskey, danger, and total desperation.
Her shock melted away in a split second. A soft moan escaped her throat, and she surrendered to it completely. She uncrossed her arms and slid her hands up his chest, tangling her fingers into his wet, dark hair.
Nico groaned at her touch, the sound vibrating against her lips. His hands finally landed on her bare skin.
He gripped her waist tightly, lifting her up just slightly against the tile. His mouth was hot and demanding, kissing her with a desperate hunger thatperfectly matched the ache in her own body.
The hot water rained down on them, slicking their skin together as they moved against each other.
He broke the kiss just to drag his lips down her jawline, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. Mara tilted her head back, exposing herself to him, her breathing ragged and loud over the sound of the shower.
"Nico," she breathed his name, her nails digging lightly into his broad shoulders.
"You drive me insane," he muttered against her wet skin.
"You drive me insane," he muttered against her wet skin. "You sit at that table with Vitale, looking like a queen, letting him touch you... it made me want to burn the city down."
His hands slid slowly from her waist, tracing the curve of her hips, mapping out every inch of the body he had been staring at all night.
The physical tease was agonizing. He touched her sides, the dip of her spine, the curve of her thighs… everywhere but where she desperately wanted him to, dragging out the tension until she was completely at his mercy.
Slowly, his large, calloused hand moved to the front of her body. He didn't rush. He flattened his palm over her lower stomach, right where the Ferrante heir was growing safely inside her.
The touch was not rough; instead, it was entirely reverent. It served as a reminder of the permanent bond that already tied them together.
Mara opened her heavy eyes, looking up at him through the steam. Nico was looking down at her, his chest heaving, his dark eyes burning with an emotion she was afraid of naming.
He moved his thumb in a slow circle over her stomach, his gaze locking onto hers.
"Tell me to stop, Mara," Nico whispered, the water rushing down between them. His other hand slid up to grip her jaw, his thumb resting near her trembling lower lip.
"Tell me to walk out that door, and I will. But if I stay... we stop pretending this has anything to do with the bloodline. We admit that we are doing this simply because we can't keep our hands off each other."
Mara's breath hitched.
The logic, the rules, the syndicate… all of it washed down the drain, leaving only the heavy, burning ache in her lower stomach.
She wasn't sure she was ready for the implications of what this meant, but she knew she desperately wanted his body.
She slowly shook her head, unable to find the breath to argue or deflect. Her hands slid up his wet chest, her fingers curling tightly into his broad shoulders as she pulled him just a fraction closer.
"Nico..." she murmured, the word falling from her lips like a desperate plea.
He leaned in, his mouth brushing tantalizingly against hers, making her shiver despite the scalding heat of the shower. He left the final move hovering in the steam between them.
"What do you want, Regent?" he asked in a rough, demanding whisper.
Mara looked up into his dark, burning eyes.
"You," she breathed.