Gianna
I was breathless and lost. One moment I was arguing with Nico, and the next moment I was sitting on his lap, holding onto his shirt for dear life as he devoured my lips like a Thanksgiving meal. I could feel his anger, his annoyance and maybe even his possession with every stroke of his tongue and every brush of his lips. And even if I was mad as hell, somehow my body responded to it, meeting his angst with a version of my own.
“Why do you keep making me so mad? I have no idea,” Nico grunted, pulling away and holding my face in his hands.
“This is not how you resolve an argument, Nico,” I breathed.
“I never had needed to resolve any argument before,” he answered, brushing his thumb across my lips. “Now tell me…why didn’t you want me to know about this?” I gazed into his eyes
