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Under His Wings(51)

By:Naima Simone


He kissed her just below the ear, brushed a caress over her cheek and, tilting her head toward him, took her mouth. His arm wrapped around her abdomen, holding her close as his cock nudged her entrance and pressed forward until only his cock head rested inside her. He paused and his harsh, rapid breath bathed her lips. Tamar moaned, squeezing her muscles around him, encouraging him to move. To give her more of him.

Their mingled pants and jagged breaths resounded, seeming ten times louder in the silence that surrounded them.

“Nico,” she pleaded, her nails biting into his unyielding flesh.

Slowly he pushed inside her, filling her. Nicolai released her chin, slid a hand beneath her thigh and lifted it, spreading her wider as he shifted her hips higher on his lap. The position and angle of penetration made him seem larger, wider…more. He didn’t pause in his tender but firm taking of her and every ridge rubbed over the walls of her pussy, dragging shudder after shudder from her.

It’s so good. She gasped, raising her arms to circle his neck and hold on. His silken hair tickled her cheek and neck as he grazed a kiss over her shoulder.

His hands gripped her hips, gently lifted her halfway up his cock. Then slid her back down. A gust of air tore out of her chest at the erotic caress of her pussy. It massaged every inch of her sex, from the swollen, parted lips that pressed to his groin on the down stroke to the walls and muscles that quivered around him. He repeated the slow thrust and she cried out.

“Do you know what fucking you is like? What being in this hot, tight pussy is like?” he asked in a honeyed timbre. Another unhurried lifting and lowering. She groaned. “Nothing. I don’t have anything to compare it to. It’s pain, pleasure, heaven and hell. It’s like jumping into a warm, sweet lake and never wanting to come up for air. I love being inside you, Tamar,” he whispered.

A sob welled in her chest at the carnal yet tender words. No fair. He used emotional warfare as well as a devastating, sensual assault.

“Your pussy makes a man welcome death,” he whispered. “Because only heaven could be sweeter than coming inside you. But me,” his voice thickened and the slow thrusts shortened, quickened, “even knowing how stained my soul is, knowing hell awaits me, I would willingly greet the grave if it meant another moment in your arms, in your body.”

Nicolai fell forward, his arm around her waist, keeping her from slamming onto the floor. With tender yet hurried hands, he positioned her beneath him, bringing Tamar to her hands and knees. He planted a palm next to hers, the other clasping her waist. His broad chest blanketed her back, his thighs bracketing hers. He covered her, reminding Tamar of the animal that comprised half his genetics. He rode her, plunging deep, hips rolling against her ass as each thrust buried him inside her pussy.

The smack of thighs hitting thighs, the suction of his cock fucking her wet sex filled the room. The orgasm swelled, looming closer and closer. The thick head of his cock bumped against a place behind her clit, high in her sex, shoving her toward oblivion.

Nicolai growled and the vibration hummed against her back, echoed in her ears. Abandoning her waist, he plunged his hand between her thighs and rolled her clit between his finger and thumb. Ecstasy burst over her, an implosion that rocked from the depths of her soul and outward until it rolled out of her on a long, breathless scream. Her pussy clamped down on his driving cock and she convulsed. Above her, Nicolai gave a hoarse roar, his body tensed and bucked. Hard, powerful detonations of his seed seared her pussy, bathed her and triggered another wave of release. It crashed over her in a long, seemingly endless flood of pleasure.

As he murmured her name in her ear and the downy, heavy weight of his wings enfolded them, Tamar leapt into the black welcoming arms of release.





Chapter Eight



The sky, heavy with gray-and-navy-blue clouds, looked like God had sucker punched it.

Its angry, bruised appearance fit Nicolai’s mood perfectly.

Though he scanned the air and ground below, his thoughts were as chaotic as the storm that brewed and rumbled in the distance.

This had to end—Evander had to come to an end. Tonight.

Urgency rode him hard, made him fly faster, soar higher. Demanded he fight fiercer.

Protect Tamar. At all costs, she must be protected.

Making love to Tamar the night before had altered the timeline of the chase. After holding her as she confessed her fear of the dark, and then receiving the gift of her body and trust, his sole concern was shielding her from any future harm or pain. A woman as brave and fierce as Tamar shouldn’t live in fear.

No more relays where he passed the baton of the hunt to Lukas, Adon or Dorian. This had become a hundred-yard dash and Nicolai was racing for the finish line, dragging Evander’s corrupt, crazy ass behind him.