The Sweetest Oblivion (Made Book 1)

“A kiss that is never tasted, is forever and ever wasted.”

—Billie Holiday

HE HELD MY HAND AS he shut the back door behind us.

My breaths turned shallow as he pulled me to the couch. He sat, and I stood between his legs, waiting to see what he wanted. I would do it all, anything he told me to. Maybe it was my submissive heart, or maybe it was the romantic one trying to find a way to thrive.

His palms skimmed my legs, pushing my dress up until he found bare thigh. My skin danced with anticipation. His hands fit me so right, were the perfect roughness and the warmest heat. I suddenly didn’t know what I would do if I could never feel them again.

He tugged the backs of my knees, pulling me closer until I straddled him.

Chest to chest. Heartbeat to heartbeat. My pink dress to his black dress shirt and tie. We were so different, I realized then. Big and small. Hard and soft. Demanding and docile.

We breathed each other’s air for a moment before he leaned in and ran his lips down the length of my throat. “You smell so good,” he rasped. His scruff tickled my neck as he trailed downward past my collarbone and then pressed his face into my breasts. “And fuck, these tits.”

I sighed, my hands running down his chest. “My nonna said you only want to marry me for my boobs.”

“Not true.” I felt him smile against my skin. “This too.” I yelped at the sharp smack on my ass. He tugged my dress off my shoulders, baring my white strapless bra. My breasts tingled as he palmed and squeezed them through the fabric.

“My boobs and ass, then?” My words ended on a moan as he folded a cup down and ran his tongue across a nipple before sucking. My head lolled, a breathless haze overcoming me.

He cupped me between the legs. “This is also the nicest puss—”

“Nico,” I cut him off, every inch of my skin warming.

He chuckled.

I loved the sound of his laugh, the way the warm timbre ghosted down my spine.

I shivered.

He ran a thumb across the goose bumps on my arm. “Cold?”

I shook my head, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. “Nervous.”

He unclipped the back of my bra, his eyes darkening as I straddled him topless with my dress around my waist. “Why?”

My hands slid downward, his abs tightening under my touch, to even lower. I traced his belt buckle with a finger. “I want to do something,” I whispered. The insinuation that I wanted to please him, to taste him, was heavy and thick in the air.

His gaze immediately flicked to my face. Nerves danced in my veins as I began to undo his belt. He tensed. I leaned forward, pressing my breasts against his dress shirt and my lips to his neck. God, he smelled so good it made me dizzy. I nuzzled him, trying to soak it all up.

His hand cupped the back of my head, sliding downward to my nape. “Why would that make you nervous?”

I swallowed. “Because I haven’t done it before.”

I tried to slide backward to my knees in front of the couch, but he suddenly grabbed me by a fistful of hair. His gaze swam with turmoil and disbelief.

“You’re lying.” His voice was sharp.

I laughed weakly, though in truth his words pierced my chest. “I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough that I’m not.” I was so nervous it vibrated beneath my skin. My hands were clammy, and I fought not to wipe them on my dress. Like an idiot, I wondered how many blowjobs this man had gotten and from how many experienced women.

I tried to pull away again, but his grip only tightened. He watched me with a tension that radiated from his gaze. I swallowed as awareness settled between us. Keeping his stare, I slipped the ring off and let it fall from my fingers. His fist loosened, and I slid to the floor.

He stretched out, like he was getting comfortable, like a woman on her knees at his feet was a daily routine. God, this man. He never made anything easy.

I unbuttoned his pants, and the sound of the zipper sent a seductive echo through the room. He rested his elbow on the armrest and watched me.

I hesitated. I knew I couldn’t do this with perfection, and I wished I’d had more practice so I could. He certainly knew what he was doing in the oral department, and I was scared I’d be a disappointment.

“You gonna stare at my crotch all day or take it out?”

He looked like a king sitting there, demanding and impatient. Though, I believed he was close to unraveling by a tightness in his shoulders and the tension passing through his eyes.

My hands trembled as I pulled his briefs down and wrapped my fingers around his erection. How was I going to get this thing in my mouth? Even though a part of me was apprehensive, an unexpected tenacity demanded I try. He was so smooth and warm. Hard and thick. He felt so good inside me, and I wanted to thank him for it. I leaned in and rubbed his erection across my cheek.

His thighs spread further, a hand running across his mouth while the other clamped into a fist on the armrest.

My mouth watered as I rubbed my face, my lips, all over him. I drew my tongue out and licked him like an experiment. I did it again, all the way from the base to the top. His stomach tightened, a quiet groan escaping him. His reaction was so hot that a hum of satisfaction traveled up my throat as I gave him little licks everywhere, not missing a spot.

“Quit playing with it,” he said harshly.

Jeez, he was moody about his blowjobs.

I shot him a narrowed gaze.

“Suck,” he demanded.

In an unhealthy way, his bossy tone sent a warm wave between my legs. I obeyed, running my tongue around the head before sucking it into my mouth.

His head fell back with a “Fuck, that’s it.”

My breasts rubbed against his thighs, and sparks of pleasure fluttered through me. I sucked him again, taking more in my mouth and gliding up and down.

“Just like that,” he hissed, his hand grabbing a fistful of my hair. He moved my head, controlling the rhythm. Up and down, and deeper into my mouth every time. “Look at me,” he ordered roughly.

My gaze flicked to him.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

When he pushed himself deep enough it hit the back of my throat, I gagged and my eyes watered. With a groan, he pulled me away from him. His breaths came out heavy as he rested his head against the couch and watched me with a half-lidded gaze.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Gonna come,” was all he said.

My brows pulled together. “That was quick.”

I meant it as I wasn’t ready to be done, but as soon as I said it I realized it sounded like he was a two-pump chump.

He let out a laugh. “I’m going to fuck you hard for that.”

I flushed.

His gaze burned hot and lazy. “Take it all off and come here.”

I stood and slipped my dress and thong down my legs. As soon as I straddled him, his mouth latched onto my breast. Fever consumed me, a shot pouring straight in my bloodstream. He touched me, rough and urgent, and it only fed the fire.

My hands buried in his hair as he sucked and nipped on my breasts, on my throat and neck. He squeezed and smacked my ass, grinding me against his erection.

“Stand up,” he rasped. He barely got the words out before he was jerking me upward and then pulling me down on his face. I groaned, bracing a thigh on the back of the couch and a hand on his shoulder. He sucked and licked while I rolled my hips against his mouth. My skin burned. Pressure built and built.

“So close,” I moaned.

I gripped a fistful of his hair right before the release shot through me, buckling my legs and stealing my breath. I slid to his lap, gasping for air. Before I realized his intentions, he grabbed my hips and slammed inside of me.

I choked as pain spread through me. “Nico, I’m so sore.”

His hands gentled on me. “Fuck, baby, I’m sorry.” He leaned forward and captured my top lip between his, kissing me with a sweet pull.

We both realized what had happened the second his mouth left mine.

He froze.

My pulse skidded to an awkward stop.

Unease poured into my bloodstream; warm as whiskey neat, yet as cold as ice. He was deep inside of me, so deep it stung, but all I could focus on was how my mouth tingled where he’d kissed me. I licked my lips, and his gaze darkened as he followed the motion. I could taste a hint of myself, but not enough of him.

The air stilled. Indecision shook in my hands. My heartbeats danced, warmed, pulsed like they were finally alive.

I couldn’t stop myself.

A tremor ran through me as I leaned forward, close enough our breaths intermixed. And then closer until my mouth brushed his. So soft, so him, so mine. When he parted his lips, I pressed mine to his and slid my tongue inside. A groan came from deep in his chest, his hands tightening on my hips.

I pulled back, trying to catch my breath. But before I caught it, I leaned in and kissed him again. Lazy and wet, I licked inside his mouth. His hand cupped the back of my head, and he sucked on my tongue. I moaned, my fingers running down his tie. The next kiss was rough, with a scrape of his teeth before easing into a wet slide. My blood drummed in my ears, rushed through my veins, incinerated like fuel and flame.

I was so full of him, and with his mouth on mine I felt overwhelmed. Complete. Consumed. And I never wanted to come up for air.

He tried to slow the kiss, but I didn’t want to stop. Couldn’t.

I pressed my mouth to his, gave his top lip a gentle lick, stole his breath straight from his lungs. He tasted so good. Like me, and warm vanilla whiskey.

He nipped my bottom lip, telling me enough.

“Fuck me or get off.”

I faltered at his sudden change of mood. However, I soon realized what this was. He was pissed that I’d never kissed him and now he was going to withhold it from me. My eyes narrowed, though I wasn’t that moved. Another man in the Cosa Nostra would’ve never respected my wish not to kiss him, and this one had. Now that I was trying to eat him alive, the proud boss was reminded of it.

I rolled my hips, slow and lazy at first. The soreness was like standing near a fire that was a bit too hot but you’d die without its warmth. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pressed my face into his neck.

A shiver rolled through me, pressure and heat sparking as I ground my clit against his pelvis. His hands ran down my back, gripping my ass and pulling me harder against him. I was only rubbing myself against him, not fucking him yet, but he didn’t seem to mind.

The sensation of him deep and still inside of me drove me to the edge. An mmm sound escaped me as I rose an inch and then slid back down.

“Fuck, those noises.” He captured the next one in his mouth. His palms ran to my ribs, spanning my waist. A shudder rolled under his skin as I began to slowly move up and down.

Rough hands held me tightly.

Teeth nipped my jaw.

Lips ran up my neck before pressing to my ear.

“You gonna keep your mouth from me again?”

I shook my head.

“Because it’s mine?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

He groaned from his throat before grabbing the back of my neck and kissing me hard. Wet and messy. Wild and rough. And then slow, wet glides and licks, like he was trying to taste every inch of my mouth. Warmth spilled into my chest and spread outward.

He let me get used to fucking him before his hands started moving me up and down. Sweet, hot pressure began to build. I moaned in his mouth. He kissed me and kissed me until I couldn’t breathe anything but him.

When his head lowered and he sucked a nipple into his mouth, the pressure boiled over. A shudder shook me as pleasure burst and finally dissipated. My breath came out heavy and erratic, my forehead resting on his.

His body tensed, and his hands tightened on my waist as he rocked me.

“Ask me to come inside you.”

“Please come inside me,” I sighed against his lips.

He pressed his face against my throat, let out a masculine groan that sent goose bumps down my body, and bit my neck hard enough it would leave a mark.

I sat there with my arms around his shoulders, my breath fanning his throat. His presence soaked through my skin with each inhale. His touch and taste and smell sank so deep they filled the cracks of my heart. He was becoming a drug, an addiction I would have to feed every day. From the recent hit, euphoria filled my veins and relaxed my limbs.

He was an infatuation, a craving, a need, and I was sure it was unrequited. But as my fingers ran down his tie and rested on his chest—

Bu-bum.

Bu-bum.

Bu-bum.

His heartbeats raced for me.