Chapter 15 #2
The warmth of climax consuming her was soothing, of course, as if this mighty hunter had finally caught her vixen and wanted to tame her right there in the wild.
So hot, so fucking hot! Nala yearned to be a vixen.
She wanted Varen to be her hunter come to tag her before releasing her back from whence she came.
Anyone to catch her afterward would find that she already belonged to another.
Nala was so swept up in her orgasmic fantasy that this was the only way their relationship could end.
Fuck me, claim me, and tell the world I’m yours.
Nala was almost too wet to contain Varen by the time her thrusts finally slowed. She groaned in fatigue, letting Nala’s ass and hips hit the bed, Varen on top of her. She also came down from her high and remembered where she was – that they were two simple people in this big, fucked up world.
Nala wasn’t prey and Varen wasn’t a huntress. They were simply two people, lost.
“You get really fucking taut when you’re coming,” Varen muttered, pulling the strap-on away from Nala’s depths.
My God, that feels hot. Lust taunted her still, expanding through her tired body and reminding her that she was alive.
If she weren’t so spent right now, she’d beg Varen to find something to fuck her with again.
“I’ll keep that in mind in the future. I wanted to learn your responses since last time… well, I guess I did.”
Right when Nala thought it was over, Varen penetrated her again, that groan one of a woman who was very satisfied with her current lot in life. Money and sex. Typical. Nala wasn’t complaining. She’d save that for later.
When all was said and done, it could’ve been worse.
Who am I trying to kid? It was awesome. During the moment.
Once the binds and blindfold came off, Nala was able to roll over and use her limbs again.
The first thing she did? Put her hand on Varen’s face and push her away to the other side of the bed as she got up and shuffled to the upstairs bathroom a few feet away.
She tried to play it cool. So she tied Nala up.
So they had sex. So she said some weird shit that would’ve been threatening if Nala didn’t kinda-sorta know her by now.
She keeps saying she owns me. Nala fluffed out her hair and entered the spacious shower, where she quickly rinsed herself off.
Sweat. Varen’s sweat. Lube and whatever a woman’s body made when in catatonic heat.
Does she? Of course she didn’t. Not legally.
Except Varen was Nala’s in to Xan Ravenwood.
She was Nala’s only means of revenge if she did go the vigilante justice route – and she had thought about it several times.
In the end, I don’t have the guts to go to jail.
Plus, Varen gave her money. A thousand dollars a week to pretend to be her girlfriend, and now they were having kinky sex.
All of that was fine. Except Nala liked it.
“Dumbass,” she muttered, toweling off in front of a huge mirror above the sink.
“What do you think you’re doing, getting involved with this woman?”
Varen wasn’t any good for her. She wasn’t even in a real relationship.
It was sexual tension blowing over. She didn’t think of her as Nala.
Not Nala the person. She didn’t even know Nala the person!
That was it. Nala had to do something right now to prevent a potential disaster.
She walked back out with a towel wrapped around her body.
Varen was on the bed, still naked, her hands beneath her head as she dozed.
For a moment, Nala was foolishly taken in with her lean yet womanly physique.
I mean, she fucks like a champion. Who knew?
Nala had expected her to be a lazy lay because she was rich and good-looking.
I may have known a couple of people like that in my short years.
Never boned any of them, but certainly heard stories…
“You can stay the night,” Varen mumbled, as Nala bent down to pick up her clothes strewn across the place. “I have work in the morning but can drop you off somewhere.”
“No thanks.” Nala dropped her towel, pulled her hair back into a boring ponytail, and started putting her underwear on.
Brows furrowed, Varen sat up, one foot landing on the floor by the bed. “Do you want a ride home?”
“No.” Nala found Varen’s pants and her wallet in a pocket. Right in front of her, Nala opened Varen’s wallet and pulled out a Grant. Perfect.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re paying for a taxi. I’m not taking transit through here this time of night.”
“I said I would take you home.” Varen was halfway out of bed, grabbing her underwear and jeans as if she could get dressed in time.
“Nah, I’d rather go by myself. Let’s not complicate this any more than it has been.”
Varen was cute, what with being too confused to function. Nala bet that didn’t happen often. “Did I do something? Say something? You had a good time, right?”
Rolling her eyes, Nala finished dressing and pocketed the money in her jeans. “Yeah, it was fun. Thanks.”
“Then what’s the problem? This is the part where I’m supposed to cuddle you and give you aftercare.”
Oh, dear Lord. “You’re confused, and I’m not in the mood to deal with it.”
“I’m only confused because you’re not being clear with me.”
“Look.” Nala put her hand on Varen’s chest, ignoring the warm sweat and the enticing way her kissable breasts hung on her frame.
I am this close to climbing in her lap and kissing her.
The stupid part of Nala’s brain wanted Varen to cuddle next to her and feel protected by the woman who made such short work of her.
The smart part told the stupidity to fuck off.
“We can’t lose sight of what’s important. Getting justice for my sister and your fiancée.”
Now may not have been the time to get weird about that detail, but…
“Thanks for bringing her up. Feels really great.”
“I bet.” Nala ruffled Varen’s hair, sending her back on her ass.
“I’m sure you’re a decent person, ma’am, but I can’t afford to find out any more than I have. Don’t worry. I’ll learn how to play the good sub for The Aviary. I will follow your plans because God knows I’m too fucked up to come up with my own. You saw what happened the last time I had a non-plan.”
She pivoted, making for the stairs. “But I won’t be yours. We’ll have sex if it seems like the thing to do. I ain’t saying you’re bad at it.”
She raised her voice as she began her descent, Varen scrambling to grab her clothes and chase after her.
“Nala!”
“That’s the thing, Varen.” Nala stopped at the bottom of the spiral staircase and looked up at her. “You need to separate the two of us. I’m not Nala when you’re acting like a territorial she-beast. Because nobody owns or controls Nala Nazarov. Understand that right now.”
Varen braced herself against the railing, eyes boring into Nala’s even from that distance. “Then who the hell are you?”
“Don’t you know? You named me.” Nala fetched her sweatshirt from the living area and tugged around her frame. When Varen still hadn’t responded by the time Nala reached the front door, she turned around. “Every time you see me like this, I will be Nightingale.”
The door was heavy behind her. Varen did not come after her, which was fine.
Nala didn’t want her to make a scene as she entered the frosty night air and walked toward the nearest boulevard where she could call a cab to take her home.
You pay for what you named, Varen. The Nightingale would call her Mistress.
The Nightingale would bow to her command and be the perfect submissive to Varen’s domination.
The Nightingale would become a queen of espionage and stand in the face of danger, whose name was Xan Ravenwood.
It was best for Nala Nazarov to step out of the light and let Nightingale shine. Nala was brash, foolish, and a liability to stone-cold justice. The Nightingale, on the other hand, was the perfect identity for Nala to give her new focus, and to act as a burner should she need it.
The Nightingale would submit. Nala would stay where it was safe, where she could keep her identity – and heart – in a treasure box.
It was all she had. It wasn’t much, but she wouldn’t let someone like Varen Lake or Xan Ravenwood take that away from her too. I can be both Nala and Nightingale. She had to be. For her sister’s sake.
Even for Desirée’s sake.
Entry 7
If you’re out there, Desirée, I apologize until my soul has been forgiven.
I am more flesh than brain. Having Nightingale to myself all day was both reassuring and the worst decision I’ve made in the past three years.
I took her again. In my home. In my bed. I made love to her. I made her feel the strength I’ve kept inside this long. I gave her everything I had, in the vain hope that it would heal me.
It didn’t.
If anything, I am even more confused and frustrated. After all that, she left, taking my money right in front of me so she could make her escape.
There is no denying that she has enjoyed everything I’ve thrown her way.
Tonight, I tapped into my old friend bondage.
I had forgotten how calming the ropes make me feel.
It’s good to get back into it, because I will need a skill to barter with The Aviary, and it will keep us from having to have sex in front of the others.
Right now, I only want to keep that to myself. I will share my art with the world, but my sexual needs and releases are for Nightingale only. There is still so much more I can show her. So much more to the deepest sides of me to reveal.
I’m afraid. I yearn, but I am afraid. The more of myself I give to her, the more I feel my vision coming apart.
I’m sorry, Desirée. I swore, in my grief, that I would be yours forever until we were reunited in Heaven. But she’s reawakening me. My grief can’t fog my soul anymore.
I hate that she makes me feel what you used to – human.