Chapter 24 #2
“I want this pussy wrapped around my cock.” He moves behind me, his fingers pumping tauntingly in and out as he inches our bodies toward the side of the bed, directly across from a gold skull-encased mirror.
“I want you to see how fucking pretty you look while you take my cock like a good little slut.”
There’s no stopping the second moan that spills from my mouth as Nick tugs at the clasps securing the dress around my neck.
It falls to the floor in one delicate swoop.
Gods, the mouth on him. I’ve always loved when Nick is rough and abrasive.
I saw slivers of it when he and I reunited months ago and the tether on his monster loosened.
I saw it more with Raphael, and a part of me felt ashamed I enjoyed the Devil in him, one I would miss when Nick regained his memories.
But it’s still there, dare I say even more prominent, and I finally accept it’s because Nick and Raphael are one and the same.
A part of him was missing when we first met, and now that he has embraced his birthright and encompassed the Devil, he is everything I dreamed and more.
Hand still thrusting between my legs, Nick gently tugs my chin down so I’m forced to watch us in the mirror.
His left hand loops around and slides across the plane of my stomach, his touch sending sparks of heat in its wake.
His finger reaches for my peaked nipple and pinches, the small hurt pulling a pleasurable whimper from my lips.
Nick’s hand falls to my waist, and he tugs me against him before he removes his fingers and roughly tosses me down on the bed.
I am being manhandled, and I love it.
The sound of Nick’s knees hitting the floor sends my blood thrumming with wicked anticipation, the ache in my core blossoming into a pulsing throb without the feel of him. He grabs my legs and pulls me toward the edge of the bed, his warm breath fanning my center.
“I’ve heard there are those who worship the Devil,” he says, sliding his palms up my thighs, biting and licking his way toward his meal. “But you will be the first to say,” he pauses, and I groan as his tongue slowly slides up my slick center, “that the Devil worships you.”
Nick dives in without further preamble, feasting like the feral beast he is.
The assault of his mouth is so brutally pleasurable, my thighs instinctively close around his head.
My fingers knot themselves within that thick head of hair, and Nick takes both of his hands to drive my legs apart, hooking one over each of his shoulders.
He wraps an arm around my thighs before he moves his mouth to my clit, sucking and licking as he again pushes two fingers inside me.
I’m nothing but a willing prisoner beneath those deft hands and expert mouth.
“Fuck. Nick.” I pant between breaths. “I’m going to come.”
His tongue is as precise as his fingers, curling inside me as his tongue savagely lashes at my clit.
The pressure that had been building finally breaks, and I scream as blinding pleasure engulfs my senses.
I grip his hair so tightly, I practically wrench it from his scalp as I come, but Nick continues to relentlessly feast until my hands fall to my sides, and I’m no more than a heap of exhausted limbs.
I glimpse him through half-closed lids as he rises, licking his lips, as if savoring the taste of me.
A whole new hunger awakens in me at the sight.
Nick lifts his shirt over his head, revealing that sculpted abdomen.
His pants soon follow, his cock springing free, the desire to feel him in my mouth again all-consuming.
Propping myself up on my elbows, I start to position myself on my hands and knees, but Nick stops me and hauls my body flush against his.
“As much as I love that beautiful mouth, I need to feel your pussy choking my cock.” He kisses me long and hard before his mouth skirts my jaw and glides down the column of my neck, peppering soft kisses interspersed with light nibbles.
He then slides behind me, and through the mirror’s reflection, I watch as he lowers himself onto the bed, that massive cock of his stiff and upright.
“Keep your eyes on the mirror,” he says when I start to turn.
His hands come to my hips, and he guides me backwards until I feel his erection against my ass.
Nick fists his cock, giving it two leisurely pumps before positioning it at my entrance.
Needing to feel him as much as he wants to feel me, I place my hands on his thighs and lower myself onto him, inch by inch, savoring the exquisite burn of being stretched and filled.
Once he’s seated to the hilt, I release the breath I’d been holding, and Nick drops his forehead to my back, emitting a low and guttural fuck.
I lift myself up before sinking back down slowly, his hands gripping my waist with a feral dominance.
Nick moves his hips in tandem, each thrust delicious and precise, hitting that spot so deep, I’m already on the verge of blacking out.
My head falls back, but before it meets his shoulder, Nick’s hand wraps around my throat and forces it upright, his lips coming to my ear.
“I said,” his fingers squeeze tighter, and I clench around him just as a moan slips past my lips, “keep your eyes on the mirror. Look how fucking perfect you are, taking me, completely wanton and at my mercy. Your eyes beg me to fuck you harder, your mouth salivating to scream my name. I want you to see how beautiful you are when I’m inside you, how you look so utterly mine. ”
His words are like another aphrodisiac, fanning the heat already burning in my core.
Nick keeps his hand on my throat and the other on my waist, driving into me from below with powerful thrusts.
I keep my eyes on the mirror as he instructed, the sight of where we are joined and watching him piston in and out of me adding another erotically-charged current.
My breasts are heavy, itching to be touched. I reach with my right hand and grab my right breast, shuddering when my thumb sweeps over the hardened nipple. I let out a low moan before I move over to the left breast, repeating the same massaging strokes.
“That’s it,” Nick praises. “Touch yourself. Let me see how you make yourself feel good.”
My hand moves lower, gliding over my stomach to dip between my legs.
Nick lets out another fuck when my fingers brush his length while he continues to pound into me.
My blood hums with electricity at feeling the space where we come together.
Two fingers massage my clit, and it’s all I can do to keep my eyes from drifting shut, all five of my senses drowning in stimulation.
“So fucking beautiful,” Nick says, his eyes now on the mirror as well. “So fucking perfect. And so fucking mine.”
It’s the last word, spoken with a feral growl, that sends the overpowering orgasm cascading through me.
My left arm reaches behind to wrap around the back of Nick’s head for purchase, my fingers sinking into his hair.
I lose sight of us as I again throw my head against his shoulder, but Nick doesn’t fight it.
Instead, his pace turns unforgiving, and I scream his name as another orgasm bursts through me, igniting my blood and stealing the breath from my lungs.
His fingers dig into my waist, and I feel his lips at my shoulder as he sinks his teeth into my flesh.
I bite into my own lip at the pain, and finally, Nick grunts as warmth fills my insides.
He releases my throat and thankfully wraps an arm around my waist. It’s a good thing, because I certainly cannot sit or stand on my own right now.
I’m swept into his arms, and he brings us to the bathing chamber, where a bath is already drawn.
Nick steps in carefully with me still in his arms, and I groan as the warm water envelopes me when he lowers us down.
As I sit between his legs, my head and back rest against his chest as he massages my shoulders. Then, he takes a soft cloth, which he runs down my body. Once Nick is satisfied with his work, he wraps both arms around my middle and sighs contentedly.
I tip my head back to look at him, just to find him already watching me. His face, so astoundingly beautiful and so at ease, takes my breath away.
“I love you.”
Nick smiles, and gods, his smile is so breathtaking to behold. “I love you, Rhi, and I’m going to get us out of here, whatever it takes.”
I settle into Nick’s bed, my heart full and ready to burst. Nick’s back is to me as he pours two glasses of wine from the small table in the center of the room.
I stretch my arms so they glide underneath the pillow, when my fingers brush something small and oval shaped.
My heart stills.
My hand closes around the object, and I draw it forward, holding it against my chest. With a shuddering breath, I turn my wrist over and open my fist.
“Nick,” I whisper.
I feel him before I see him, but when I glance up, his face is a mosaic of emotions: rage, disbelief, panic.
Fear.
He throws the two wine glasses against the wall, the shattering of glass like windchimes as it rains down to the floor. Nick starts yelling, calling for Baal, shouting expletives.
And yet, I stare, unmoving, at the small, black onyx stone that may have just sentenced me to death.