Chapter 11
Alone, Varen was not gentle. She practically slammed Nala against the corner, pulling her legs into the air until the only thing keeping her from sliding down the walls and onto her ass was one woman’s sheer strength.
“Var...”
“Shut up.” Who was this? This wasn’t the stoic and collected Varen that Nala met a week ago. This wasn’t the quiet woman she met in that sparse office. This definitely wasn’t the bereaved individual she had dinner with. Whoever this was... well...
Nala rather liked her.
“I don’t want to hear a word out of you.” Stern. Commanding. More effective than Seba, Josephine... any dominant out there doing a mediocre job at whatever it was they did. “Make all the noise you want, but don’t distract me. Got it?”
Nala nodded, the flow of her blood reversing in an instant.
“All I want to hear,” Varen growled, yanking Nala’s short skirt up and ripping aside her lingerie, “is that you want it. Tell me you want me.”
Varen’s voice usually sounded so soothing.
Like a woman people instantly trusted because they knew she would do them no harm.
This isn’t that woman. She could hurt Nala.
She could hurt her heart, her body, make her walk funny, and burn her ass until it was too sore to touch.
She’s gonna do it... Those fantasies Nala had were nothing like this.
Varen was never forceful in her mind. She did her hard, a little rough, but not like this.
No. This was better.
This was the kind of wild escape a woman like Nala needed.
“Do you, Nala?” Fuck her! The way she said Nala’s name, spitting it out like a beast was doing things to that torn lingerie.
“Go on...” Nala whimpered, hands splaying across Varen’s shoulders before feeling her breasts through that silk shirt. Fingers played with glass buttons. “Do it.”
“Say you want it, then shut the fuck up.”
Well!
“I want it.” Three words that hadn’t meant so much before. She clawed Varen’s shirt, tearing apart the buttons and feeling the warm flesh beneath. “I want it!”
Then she needed to shut the fuck up.
Not that she could get any words out thereafter.
Varen slammed her again, harder, pushing her body up the wall as she undressed her in one tear of the hand.
The sashes covering her breasts gave way.
The zipper in the back of the skirt fell down.
Gasping, Nala felt every bit of her skin exposed in front of this woman.
In those shadows? She probably couldn’t see anything but the dark of her thick, straight hair and her darker nipples protruding in the air.
Ohmyholyshit. Varen’s mouth was on her, sucking her throat; her tongue tasted her, flicking against her nipple.
Nala moaned, as if this were her lot in life, and let herself be carried away by the current Varen Lake brought to sweep her up into a hedonistic frenzy.
“Don’t say a word,” Varen reiterated, hand diving between Nala’s legs. “If you say anything, even my name, I’ll stop and leave you here to suffer with your wet cunt.”
Like fuck Nala was going to say anything now!
“That’s it.” The more she spoke, the raspier Varen’s words became.
Was there smoke in the corner? Nala couldn’t smell it.
All she smelled was that insane perfume making her lustier.
Oh, fuck me. Her spread legs welcomed Varen between them – not only her hand but one of her legs, which was eager to split Nala’s thighs further apart.
I’m so fucking wet. Wetter than she was in the shower with her tame fantasy. “Take me, Nala.”
When she thought there was nothing to take yet, she felt it – Varen’s fingers attempting to push into her wetness.
She bit back a cry as she braced herself, hands digging into Varen’s shoulders as she fought to both open her legs wider and to enclose them for balance.
Either Varen was using more than two fingers already, or Nala was tighter than she gave herself credit for – maybe both.
Oh, shit, she was in, in, in, those knuckles subsequently exploring her before Varen pulled out and went for it again.
This time Nala could not stay quiet. Varen could forbid coherent words, but she couldn’t keep Nala completely silent. Varen’s hand ruptured her, forcing its way into the kinds of depths Nala didn’t even know she had until now.
Eventually, a bright light flashed before Nala’s eyes – Varen was in. Most definitely in.
However, Nala could not relax her hold on her, nor could she release her strength binding her to the corner of two unsuspecting walls. Because now she had to commit to this.
Nothing was loving or tender about the way Varen fucked her, using Nala’s body as a means to find pleasure in the world.
Control. She’s controlling me. Nala went through spells of absolute enthrallment with the pinching pain and blinding pleasure both...
and spells of wanting to push Varen away, to slap her across the face and tell her to back off.
Which would win out?
“You fucking seductress,” Varen murmured against Nala’s chest, lips diverting to her breasts while pushing strands of dark hair between her fingers. “I’ll teach you a real lesson.”
Nala didn’t know what that meant, but she was about to trade places with Varen and find out what she got up to in her pants. See how you like it, “Mistress.”
“Fuck you!”
Nala nearly fell to the ground as Varen suddenly stepped away, taking her pleasurable fingers with her. Nala moaned, betrayed, her body begging for Varen to fuck her again and return that beautiful delight she had never experienced before.
She opened her mouth, lips about to sputter in disbelief. Varen slapped her hand over Nala’s gaping maw and slipped her other right on Nala’s wet nether lips, pressing her swollen clit.
“Fuck you, Nala,” she said again. “Fuck you for what you’ve made me feel.”
Varen forced her around, bending her over the arm of the chair and landing a smack on her ass.
“Fuck you and your beautiful body.” Nala’s knee appeared beside her shoulder as Varen pulled her leg up by the thigh.
The only thing helping her with their height difference was the stiletto piercing the ground beneath her.
“Fuck you and your Siren song, Nightingale.”
Varen held onto Nala by her hips, pulling her to her mouth, hungry for whatever she could no longer deny herself.
Varen devoured Nala as if she had forcibly fasted for years.
It didn't seem to matter how Nala wiggled or lost her grip on the chair.
Varen kept her close, holding her in place and letting her moan so loudly from this unexpected attention that Nala thought she might lose her soul through her throat.
The more Nala arched her back, the harder it became for her to breathe. Varen's fingers dug into her flesh. Nala felt her toes curl in her heels. She gasped, feeling an orgasm building up within her.
But then Varen pulled away.
"Don't stop!" Nala cried out, panting. She needed more.
After the teasing and taunting, she had conjured in her mind that past week…
more. Nala’s potential was unlocked with a single key protruding from Varen’s finger.
Revenge never tasted this sweet. Hell, for two seconds Nala had forgotten her woes, her weariness, her very reason for being alive…
If only she could feel that mouth on her pussy again!
“God, you really are just a woman.” Varen held her wrist to her forehead as she stood up, looming over Nala. “All through your tough girl ruse… I swear, I thought…” She laughed. “Jesus, you’ve got the hottest ass I’ve seen in a long time.”
Nala shoved it higher in the air, daring Varen to smack it again. “Fuck me,” she whispered, chin pointed toward the chair. Then louder, head held up proudly, “Fuck me, Mistress!”
Honestly, it was the least she could do.
Varen fucked her, hard, spearing Nala over the arm of the chair and sending her – and a loud, echoing moan – into the seat.
Varen’s other hand covered Nala’s mouth again, muffling any further sound as fingers furiously penetrated her.
She’ll make me come. She hates it, but she’ll fuck me until I come.
As for Varen? Maybe this was all psychological for her.
A part of Nala didn’t care. The wild ride she took on that chair was enough to sate her for now. But another part of her demanded more pleasure. Because she was the Nightingale, a creature she had named herself.
If I am yours, then I demand to be treated as your treasured possession. All well and good in her head. Then she experienced the way Varen conquered her, taking whatever she needed without any regard for Nala’s actual pleasure.
Or maybe it was with every regard.
“Mmf!” Nala moaned into Varen’s hand, her own braced against the couch as she became more determined to stand up to her fucking.
Fingers gripped leather. Knees turned red from whatever burns they endured.
Sweat dripped down her forehead and arousal stole down her legs.
There was no escape for Nala now. Not that she would run.
She was a willing prisoner. A prisoner who defied her Mistress.
Varen may fuck her like someone determined to give herself carpal tunnel, but they would endure it, welcome it, even.
After all, in the end, it felt like the greatest moment of Nala’s life.
“Ah!” A surge of heat, wet with fury, expanded inside Nala’s loins.
She braced herself for the next wave of her orgasm, gripping all that she could as she willed her cunt to open more to Varen’s awe.
You haven’t had enough. I know it. Not even with Nala bending over the couch, crying out in white, blinding bliss.
You have me stretched every which way to Sunday.
It hurts like fuck. I know I’ll pay for this later.
I want more. I want your whole hand in my body.
Give me more of your anger, bitch. I can take it. I can take anything.
She stared triumphantly at the black leather in the shadows.
Nala would have cackled in glee if she wasn’t concentrating on Varen losing steam and covering her open back with heavy, covetous kisses.
She hadn’t experienced anything like this before.
It felt… amazing? Welcoming? Right? It’s so wrong.
She wasn’t supposed to have sex with someone she barely knew…
but she couldn’t help herself. This was what she was meant to experience.
“Holy shit.” With that, Varen released her.
Nala forgot the tension in her tendons, but she did not move.
Tears of victory fell down her cheeks as her tongue snaked between her sweaty fingers.
When Varen finally won the battle of their wills and forsook her, Nala welcomed the triumph of knowing she had done that to Varen Lake, the most standoffish woman to haunt the city’s darkest corners.
“What the fuck is it…” Varen leaned against the wall, watching her.
Nala closed her legs. “You underestimated me. You didn’t think I could take that.”
“The fact that you did means nothing.”
The taste of salt hit Nala’s tongue with her descending tears. “It means everything. Your bullshit thinks it’s claimed me, but really, we both know that it’s me who owns your ass now.”
“Whatever.”
Nala stood, inhaling the sweet, musky air of victory. Maybe it was all in her head. It didn’t matter. Right now she felt much more like her old self that it was endearing. Not to Varen, no… but to the person she preferred to be.
“Now I’ve gotta go decompress,” she announced, clasping her hand on Varen’s arm. Nala took in the sight of her disheveled shirt, of her wet hand hanging by her waist. “When I get back, you’re finding an excuse to take me home. Because I am so done here. You made sure of that.”
She made it sound like she was admonishing Varen. Perhaps she was, a little. I’ve gotta stay ahead one step of this girl now. Otherwise, Varen would walk all over her, and Nala Nazarov was not a woman anyone could walk all over.
Her mask threatened to slip down her nose as she strolled back to the bathroom. Neither is Nightingale. Her persona would have to be even stronger than her real self to survive this.
The car pulled up to the craftsman. Nala waited for the engine to shut off, but it never did.
Varen remained silent behind the wheel, eyes planted on the quiet residential road.
She hadn’t said a damned thing since they left the club, telling Xan Ravenwood that poor Nala was feeling under the weather and needed to head home.
The man had waved them off before going back to a heated conversation with Hawk.
Now Nala was trapped in a car with someone who wanted nothing to do with her. Was it because she “seduced” her, making Varen shed that resolve that was usually so resolute around her? Or was it fatigue? Varen was not offering her cuddles. Not that Nala wanted any.
“Goodnight, I guess.” She opened the door, the cold air back on her skin. “Thanks for the slutty dress. I see why you picked it out now.”
Varen bristled but did not otherwise react. What an ass. Nala should have guessed she would be like this when pushed. Telling me to shut up so she can fuck me. Didn’t Nala like it? Beside the point.
“By the way.”
She waited until Varen looked at her, brows furrowed and nose flaring in disgust. With her? With herself? For the way they acted like common animals in a stupid sex club? What, was Varen a candles and body oil kind of girl? Fat chance.
“Now what?” she snapped.
“Next time we do it, you should try coming too. Might shoot that stick out of your ass.”
Nala stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind her. As she stepped onto the sidewalk, the window rolled down and Varen reached across the passenger side seat to catch Nala on her way.
“You mean I didn’t?”
She stopped. “Guess I couldn’t tell.” Nala could barely hear herself over the car. Plus, the cold. The cold. “Could you be louder next time?”
No way was she sticking around for an answer. Nala walked away, finally mastering those huge heels in time to reach the front door. She heard the car take off behind her but did not turn around to watch Varen go.
For all her righteous bravado, Nala became crestfallen as she searched for her house key in her satchel. Fuck, that was hot. Girl needed a shower, but…
The door opened. The lights were off. Patrick was apparently out for the night, giving Nala free reign to do as she pleased.
Like take a shower and make love to the showerhead, finishing the job Varen started over an hour ago.
The woman in her fantasies always made sure she came, no matter how rough she gave it to Nala.