Chapter 5
As she and Vincent drove down Burnside that night after dinner, Nala swore she saw malicious shadows in every corner. All right, so some of those were drug deals going down and people picking fights with other pedestrians because… well, she never knew why those things happened around Portland, but they weren’t the everyday occurrences she expected whenever she went out at night. These were directed right at her, even if she were nowhere near them.
“What has got you acting so bizarre tonight?” They sat at a notoriously long light, Vincent tapping the steering wheel while he waited to hit the gas again. “First you embarrassed yourself like that at dinner, and now you’re acting like every homeless person we pass is going to run up and try to open your door.”
To be fair, that happened to my roommate once. Or Patrick could have been hallucinating.
“I’m not acting bizarre, thanks.” Nala pulled herself away from the window and stared straight ahead. Rain began to patter, anyway, forcing Vincent to turn on his windshield wipers. “I’m paranoid. You would be too if Maggie cornered you in the bathroom and gave you a warning. And what the fuck do you mean by embarrassing myself? Excuse you.”
“Wait, cornered and warned you? About what?”
The light turned green, but Vincent was slow hitting the pedal. The face he kept on Nala while he drove did not inspire confidence in her. “She said that it was really easy to make an enemy out of Crow.”
“Not like we didn’t know that already.”
“You do not get it. She was really concerned that we were somehow going to mess up in the club and not only get kicked out… well, I don’t remember exactly what she said, but it was really sketchy. I honestly do not think she and Jay are a real couple. Not any more than we are.”
“I’d be shocked if they weren’t actually married.” When Nala looked at him incredulously, Vincent explained, “They act like a married couple, just not the kind that shows up to The Aviary.”
“Exactly. Maggie is totally not a submissive. She’s acting. Or lying, if I want to relate.”
“That means they have a very good reason for risking it in the club,” Vincent continued for Nala. “Crow does not like women he can’t control. That’s why he likes looking at submissive women being ordered around and possessed by their supposed Masters so much. He not only gets off on it. It comforts him.”
“For a guy who says he really is a Dom, you don’t sound impressed.”
“Why would I be? Being a Dom isn’t about possessing and controlling. Not to that degree. Even the other men at the club are playing it up. I don’t believe for a second that Lucian is that way with Robin when they’re in private.”
Wouldn’t be too sure about that. Robin was, uh, really into it.
“Okay, but what do you mean by embarrassing myself? Can we go back to that?”
Vincent turned onto his street. “Do I really have to explain?”
“Uh, yeah.”
He didn’t answer until he was in his enclosed parking space, setting the car alarm and listening to the rain fall a few feet away. Nala wondered if she should get out. Then she saw Vincent still gripping the steering wheel and leaving his seatbelt on. His countenance was cold.
“What were you doing, flirting with that man?”
Nala stifled a gasp. The way he says it…! As if she had been serious in any way! “I wasn’t doing anything. Having some fun. Why do you care? You’re not my boyfriend.”
She went to unbuckle her seatbelt, but Vincent’s hand slapped upon hers, sending fright down her spine. “You weren’t having some fun, Nala. You were trying to get a rise out of me.”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
Vincent’s hand nearly squeezed hers off her arm. “Why? Why were you doing that to me? Like you said, I’m not your boyfriend, so…”
“So it doesn’t matter, right?”
“If it really didn’t matter, Nala, you wouldn’t have done that. Now tell me why you did it.”
What insolence! Nala bit her lip before she could say something so testy, so hurtful that Vincent would have no choice but to drive her back home and kick her to the curb. If he would bother driving her back home at all.
“Nala.”
“Why are you talking to me like I’m six?” Nala did everything in her power to not look like she was a six-year-old about to throw a giant temper tantrum. “I’m not going to tell you anything unless you start treating me like an adult.”
She knew that he was almost a full decade older than her, but Nala also knew that it didn’t mean much in the realm of the world. Some people her age were really mature and had a ton of life experience. Some people Vincent’s age still acted like they were ten and barely knew what life was. I’m not saying I’m super mature. I’m saying he’s not giving me enough credit right now. So what if Nala never went to college? So what if she had never held more than a minimum wage job and had yet to change the world in any way?
“Fine.” Vincent leaned back in his seat, inhaling a deep breath. “Please tell me why you did that.”
That wasn’t much better, but Nala wouldn’t argue anymore. “I wanted an idea of how you really feel about me.”
“What?”
She looked at him for the first time since they arrived. The rain continued to pound behind them, but there in the warm car all Nala could think about was curling up next to him and resting her eyes. I can do that inside.
“You said so yourself that you’re not any good with words. Well, it doesn’t take a genius to gather that anyway. All this back and forth you and I have been playing ever since we met… fuck, you think I can’t tell that you like me? Maybe you don’t know you’re exuding more than lusty thoughts my way, but sometimes I get the feeling that you want more from this relationship than we currently have. But not only am I not super interested in that, I’m also not into the idea of giving you more of myself and feeling nothing in return. I flirted with that man tonight to see how you would respond. I wanted to see if you got jealous or not.”
“That is so archaic.”
“And you’re so dumb.”
They stared each other down in the car. Although dark, Nala could see the lights of his eyes and the heave of his chest. Stop being so attractive. She had to remain firm. Not melt into this man’s embrace as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do.
“Are you happy now?” Vincent’s voice practically pierced Nala in the chest. She gasped, feeling like an admonished child even though she had asked to be treated like the adult she thought she was. “You got a rise out of me. You know how I really feel.”
“No I don’t,” Nala barely whispered. “I don’t know anything. For all I know that jealousy was you being possessive of some woman you’re sleeping with. It doesn’t mean you feel anything good for me. Not beyond your dick, anyway.”
“Nala,” Vincent growled, his fingers tightening around her wrist again. “I would not have acted like that if I didn’t feel something for you. Don’t you get it?” His hiss burrowed deep into her ear, tickling her mind and stimulating the rest of her body in the process. “The whole reason I have been distant from you is because you make me…” Vincent’s voice may have cut off, but it did not stop his grip from traveling up her arm and making short work of her bruising limb. “I don’t like how you make me feel. It’s not something I’m meant to experience for a very long time. Maybe not ever. Don’t you see? I’m fighting back feeling anything for you beyond common decency and concern for your safety.”
Nala sat back, shocked by his words, shocked by the grip still threatening to break her arm. “Why are you fighting anything?”
“The same reason you’re fighting your feelings for me.”
“I’m not…”
“You wouldn’t have played such a trick on me if you also weren’t feeling things. Don’t be daft.”
Nala could only gape in his direction.
“You wanted me to feel jealous to feed into your ego. To make you feel better about feeling anything for me. Don’t think I’m that dumb. I know we’re both fighting back more than physical attraction right now, but neither of us wants to lose sight of the most important thing. There’s no time, no energy to get involved more than we already have, and most of all…”
Nala waited for it.
“We don’t want to become disconnected from the people we’re trying to avenge.”
In a way, he was right. Yet at the same time, the man couldn’t be further away from the truth if he started this car up again and began driving in the other direction. “That’s not fair. I lost my sister, but it wasn’t romantic or sexual love, obviously. I lost someone precious to me that I will never get back, but I don’t feel guilty being with you, Vincent! You’re the one projecting shame and guilt onto what’s going on between us!” She didn’t wait for him to counter with a different argument. “You’re still not over Desirée. You feel guilty every time you stick your dick in me. You think that if you start having feelings of any kind for me, you’ll be shitting on her memory. What if I told you that it’s been three fucking years? I’m not saying ‘get over it.’ I’m the last person who should be telling you such a thing but, holy shit, Vincent, no woman wants to be the rebound who gets shafted because you’re busy feeling like the biggest asshole in the universe because of a dead woman.”
Silence befell the car. Vincent’s grip lightened on Nala’s wrist, until he completely backed away, considering the steering wheel in front of him. In time, he undid his seatbelt and opened the car door, stepping out and slamming the door behind him.
Nala didn’t know what to do. Go after him? Head down to the bus stop? That latter thing was probably what Vincent wanted her to do. Except there was no way in fucking hell Nala was going to let him get away with skulking off like that!
She fought with the seatbelt and the car door, convinced that both were out to prevent her from getting her way, from getting to Vincent the moody, grieving billionaire. Grieve all you want, asshole. Just don’t treat me like this! Nala finally won the battle of wills with the two-ton car, emerging in the cold night air with nary a sweater to keep her warm. She tore up the stairs after Vincent and caught him as he was about to close his loft door in her face.
He relented, stepping away from the door and letting Nala in. She closed and locked the front door, but did not remove her shoes. They instead clamored over the hard wood floors, helping her chase down Vincent into the kitchen, where he pulled down a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a shot.
“I want one too,” Nala demanded.
Vincent glared at her.
“I’m twenty-one! What, suddenly you worry about stuffing me with alcohol?”
They both knew that wasn’t why he glared at her. Nevertheless, Vincent took down another shot glass and poured Nala a drink.
No cheers. No clinks. Vincent downed his shot, and Nala followed, letting the whiskey burn her esophagus like she damn well deserved. Teach me to ever open my big mouth again. She probably needed punishing, too.
Except Vincent was about as interested in her as she was in him right now. The man wandered into his living room, tearing off his jacket and tossing it on a couch as he sat with a new drink. He leaned back, sinking as far as he dared, with his head resting on top of the couch and his arm outstretched. If Nala didn’t know any better, she would think he was relaxing after a stressful day at work – not trying to process what she said to him in the car.
Nala approached from behind, staring at the top of Vincent’s dark head and wondering if she should go. But as she lurked next to the couch, her fingers treading dangerously close to his hair, he said, “You’re a real spitfire, Miss Nazarov.”
She said nothing.
“You’ll probably be the reason we ultimately get killed.”
Her eyes widened, but yet again she said nothing.
“You’re not wrong, though. You’re right. That’s the problem.” Vincent took a drink, ice clamoring against the side of his glass. “I hate that you’re right.”
Nala took two more steps, bringing her to the couch. She looked down into Vincent’s face, his eyes closed, his posture unforgiving. “I know I’m not Desirée,” she said softly. “I don’t want to be her. I’m only me. You can take me or leave me, but if you take me, I expect no mind games. I don’t need or want your love, Vincent, but I do need to be treated like a human being. Not saying you’ve been that bad…” She plucked his glass from his hand and finished his drink for him. Gotta cut myself off after this. Wine at dinner, and now following it with two drinks of whiskey? “But I have a short temper for that kind of behavior. You need to decide. Will you move on? Or will you continue to hold onto her as if she’s going to come through that door at any moment?”
“I’m not stupid, Nala. I know she’s not coming through any door. She’s dead. Forgive me if it’s been difficult to deal with.”
“Of course I understand.” She traced one of his crowning worry lines on his forehead. Vincent sighed, but did not shrug her off. “My sister died only a short while ago. It feels like yesterday, honestly. I know it wasn’t. I know it was a long time ago in the realm of the human lifespan. In olden times, we would have been forced to move on. It’s only recently we’re allowed to take time to grieve.”
“Don’t have to remind me.”
“Nor me. My dad died when I was a girl. I’ve seen what too much grief does to a person. My mother… she’s not the same anymore. She wasn’t the same even before Tasha died. All that did was solidify my mother’s inability to ever move on. Her life from now on will be dependent on grief. I don’t want to live that way. I want vengeance, but once I get it, I want to move on. It doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten Tasha, or what she meant to me. I’ll never forget her. She was a huge part of my life, and someone I thought I would have until the end of it, or at least until near the end.”
Vincent relaxed beneath her tender touch, but did not invite her to continue. Even so, Nala let three of her fingers graze against his skin, lulling him into a welcomed sense of security. His hand loosened its grip on his now empty glass, letting it tumble against the leather. Nala fought the urge to wrap her arms around his shoulders and offer him whatever comfort she could spare. Underneath it all, he’s still a human too. When it came to alpha-type men like Vincent, it was easy to forget that fact.
“She was my soul mate.” The forlorn tone to his voice gutted Nala. “No, you don’t understand. It was deeper than average love. I had thought I was in love before, but then I realized those women didn’t mean half of what Desirée meant to me. When you lose your soul mate, what the fuck do you do? How do you move on from that? You know what they say. You only get one soul mate. That’s the whole point. Whatever. She always told me I was too romantic for my own good.”
Romantic? Almost seemed impossible to see this man as romantic. Vincent was about as romantic as a fish flopping out of water.
“Would you believe me if I told you that… between her death and meeting you, I could count the amount of women I’ve had sex with on one hand?”
“Yeah, I believe you.” Nala would be shocked if it were more than two. Vincent was so sold on the idea that Desirée was his soul mate that it probably felt like cheating on her. Nala had met a few men with that mindset over the years. Lots of the elderly men in her neighborhood growing up had a difficult time moving on as widowers. Even the ones who barely knew how to take care of themselves because their wives had done everything for them. When pressed to find new wives to spend the rest of their days with, they often said it felt too wrong. Too soon.
“The women I met and slept with between then and now were barely human to me. I’m not saying I treated them like animals. I did my best to be gracious and to treat them well, but I could sense that they sensed I wasn’t into it. It felt good. It was relieving to get the sexual tension out of my body. Just because the heart grieves doesn’t mean the loins stop working… as I unfortunately found out.”
Nala sighed, fingernail lightly scratching the skin above his right eyebrow.
“It was all wrong, though. I didn’t feel better after those encounters. I felt worse. Like I was a weak man who couldn’t keep my dick in my pants. It made me wonder terrible things, like if I would have cheated on Desirée during our marriage. I had planned to spend the rest of my life with her. Then she died.”
“Come on. You can’t expect to stay celibate for the rest of your life. Do you think she would have wanted that?” Nala had no idea what Desirée was like, other than good enough to win the eternal love of a man like Vincent. “If you had died, wouldn’t you have wanted her to move on and find love again?”
“Of course. But…”
“And would you really be that upset if you found out she moved on a year after you died? Two years? Three years? Especially at so young of an age?”
“Of course not. It would be normal… I would be happy that she was happy still.”
“Then don’t you think she would say the same thing about you?”
“That’s different.”
“How so?”
Vincent opened his eyes, full of more life than Nala had seen as of late. “That was her. This is me we’re talking about.”
Are you fucking kidding me? Was this a male thing? Or a stupid Vincent Lane ego thing?
Nala stepped away, rounding the couch, heels catching her off balance more than once. These fucking things. But if she were going to exude the confidence she felt inside her bones, she needed to stay on her feet. “I know this is you we’re talking about.” She faced him, still slouching in his seat, but eyes entirely on her. “The only Vincent I know is the man I met a month ago. That man? Has a ton of potential to move the fuck on.”
To prove it, Nala stood before him, steeling herself for any negative reaction as she pulled down her dress zipper and shimmied out of the body-hugging ensemble. It pooled at her feet, revealing a lacy black bra and panty set she purchased the day before. The very same underwear Vincent pulled out of her bag with a laugh. The man wanted me. He wanted to have sex with me right there. He was going to flirt and make us both feel good. Again. Nala would be damned if this man was so up the ass of “soul mates” that he found it impossible to find some sort of happiness three years after the death of his beloved fiancée. It was sweet that he had loved her so much. It was endearing that she would always be in his heart, like Tasha would always be in her sister’s heart, but the man needed to move on.
“Just because you get hard for and enjoy fucking another woman doesn’t mean you’re dishonoring her memory. You’re human, damnit. You’ve got needs, don’t you? You can’t spend the rest of your life jacking off while bitterly thinking of what happened to her.”
He didn’t wince, but he did frown at that image.
Nala kicked her dress away from her, content to stand with her body exposed in lacy lingerie. Oh, look at that. Lo’ and behold, Vincent was starting to stiffen in those nice pants. Point being proven.
“I know you’re mad that you’re attracted to me. I know you want to take it out on me. All that frustration ready to burst in you.” She tugged on his collar, feeling the sweet silk and the way it touched her skin. “You think I mind? I’m not looking for a relationship either, but if there’s a man who makes me feel alive and able to forget my problems for a while… I’m hesitant to say no. Because I would be a total fool to pass that up.”
Nala straddled his lap, not touching him, but so close that she may as well open his zipper and take him right there.
“Do you want me, Vincent? Don’t lie.”
He breathed deeply through his nose, every breath careful and controlled. Too careful. This guy was about two seconds away from throwing Nala on the couch and fucking her until they both ran out of sweet energy. I wouldn’t say no. It was taking Nala every ounce of reserve stored within her to not suggest that right now.
“Yeah,” Vincent grunted, hands hovering over her waist. “I fucking want you.”
Before she could kiss him, his finger appeared before her lips. She kissed his fingerprints before touching anything else.
“But I want Nala. I’ll give in to her tonight.”
Nala braced herself against the back of the couch, her breasts a mere two inches away from his mouth. Are you kidding me? “This might come as a shock to you,” she muttered, undulating her hips against his chest, “but Nala has always been here. This whole time. Like, I’m kinda her.”
Finally, his hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into her ass while his mouth slightly parted and eyes fluttered shut. “I’ll give you whatever you want, Nala.”
The kiss did not disappoint. Nala fell right into it, hips rolling in his lap, feeling him awaken between the legs with every gentle thrust. You silly man. Vincent could deny her all he wanted. He could fight his attraction to her, only to be miserable… and for what? A woman who hadn’t been alive in three years? That’s noble and all, but if this man were my fiancée, my first wish after my death would be for him to get some. Perhaps Nala didn’t have the same association with sex that Vincent had. When she heard that her ex was already dating an old mutual friend of theirs, Nala didn’t care. Good for him. Their mutual friend was a nice girl.
Maybe Vincent really was a romantic at heart. A romantic who didn’t know how to let go after life punched him in the heart and loins.
“You deserve to find happiness,” she mumbled on his lips, letting him kiss her harder, harder, tongue penetrating her mouth and hands running up her sides and to her breasts. His hips raised, hardness brushing against her slit. Fuck me, damnit. “I don’t say people deserve anything very often.”
“Shut up.” Vincent’s fingers dug beneath her ass, spreading her thighs apart until a single fingertip touched her beneath her lingerie. Oh my hell. “You talk too much.”
How dare he! Nala took that as a challenge, wrapping her hand around the back of his head and pushing her touch against his skull. She bit his bottom lip, dragging it far away from his face until it snapped out of her mouth. The moan falling from both of their throats practically made her wet enough to take whatever he offered. All of it. Offer me everything, Vincent.
“You can’t make me shut up tonight.” She threw her head back as his lowered and immersed itself in her cleavage, tongue snaking against both breasts and searching for a nipple. “If my name is Nala, then you can’t tell me what to do. Not tonight.”
“Fair enough. I’m going to ignore you, though.”
Her fingers felt the slickness of his hair between them as she laughed into the crook of his neck. “Fair enough, indeed.”
He wanted her to be quiet, but he was anything but. Every other breath out of Vincent’s body was some form of her name, whether a whisper, a cry, or something so beyond human that Nala barely recognized it. The farther they went, the more her knees dug into the couch, her thighs lowering to his as his fingers pulled aside her lacy underwear and plunged deep within her.
“Shit!” It felt good. It felt wonderful. It felt like the end of the world come to take her away from the mortal realm. Why does he feel so good? Vincent was the man who showed her it was possible to feel as good as the movies portrayed. Before? Nala thought it was only a lucky few who got to have such powerful lovemaking. The kind that ripped out hearts and brought on knee-shaking orgasms – all from a simple touch of the hand.
Vincent may have been deep within her, wetting his fingers in her essence, but it wasn’t enough to sate a woman as needy as her right now.
“More,” she whimpered in his ear, arms wrapping tight around his shoulders. “Please, Vincent.”
Her hips met the thrusts of his fingers, Vincent’s other hand fumbling with his zipper and struggling to get himself out. Nala was barely coherent enough from the climax wracking her body to see his cock emerge, hard and ready to take her.
She shuddered on his fingers, easing herself off as he wiped his knuckles against her ass. Vincent kissed the mounds of her breasts, still encased in her bra. “I like it when you beg,” he said matter-of-factly. “Be careful, Nala. You think I don’t get to tell you what to do, but if you keep doing this to me, I’ll have no choice but to show you who I really am.”
Dry though her throat was, Nala still found the ability to speak. “Don’t give me any ideas.”
Vincent chuckled, pulling aside her underwear again as his other hand lined his cock up with her opening. “Are you ready for me, darling?”
Darling? That was what he called Nightingale when they were undercover. He claimed to want Nala, not the identity she sank into when trying to make the lies easier to pass. He’s calling me darling… It shouldn’t make her heart flutter, and yet here she was, clinging to his shoulders and continuing to whimper into his throat as he slowly guided the head of his cock into her.
“I’m trying,” she groaned, feeling him struggle to open her enough to take him. Damnit, why is it sometimes so easy, and sometimes so difficult to get this man inside me? It didn’t matter how wet she was. How aroused. What position. Whether he was slow or forceful. Sometimes Vincent slipped right in, and other times were like now, with the head of his cock clearing the way for the rest of him. It hurt, a little. Discomforting. Yet it was also so damn relieving to have him fully inside her, triumph overcoming the both of them. They weren’t quite there yet.
“Relax, Nala,” he whispered into her ear before tasting the outline of it. “Don’t clench up. Not yet. Relax and meet me halfway.”
“I’m…” she was going to reiterate her intention to try, but Vincent had lifted her hips and pulled himself out, too easily. He licked his fingers and ran them along her clit, forcing her body to ready for him again. Her arousal slipped from her nether lips, charging a course down her inner thigh and dripping on the head of his cock. Vincent’s growl of satisfaction as he felt her drip on his skin made Nala even wetter.
“You’ve already ruined your brand new designer panties,” he chastised her. “You’ll probably have to leave them here. Can’t have you wandering home with these things on.”
Nala laughed as she remembered her thoughts about panty sniffing. What a world. “I’ve ruined them because of you.” She didn’t tell him that a simple wash would fix everything. For next time.
“So you have. I better take advantage of this glorious situation.”
“I really don’t know what’s stopping you.”
His satisfied smile turned slightly down. “You, Nala. I need you to relax. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Don’t see how you could.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
She shivered. That might be nice. Really, really rough. That wasn’t about the physical aspect, really. It was about feeling his sheer power claiming her, taming her. I keep thinking those sorts of things. Was she really a woman in need of taming? Maybe only in the bedroom. It was nice to give up control and know that there was at least one man out there who knew exactly what she needed… but not tonight.
“I bet you like it, though,” she teased him, trying her damndest to relax when she knew she was about to have a great lay. “Feeling like the biggest man in the world because little ol’ me is who she is.”
“I don’t take that much credit. You’re tiny.”
“Uh… huh…” Her fingers dug into his shoulders, his cock making an easier way into her now. Holy shit. It never got old. No matter how many times he filled her. No matter how often he took her and became intimately familiar with every curve of her body. This should be illegal. The illicit nature of it would make it even hotter. Forbidden. Held back. Nearly forgotten, until now. That’s what Nala thought about as she pulled herself off him and then eased back down. Amazing how it got easier every time.
“God,” Vincent said, his head resting against the couch and his eyes half closed. “You’re amazing. You know that?”
She gently kissed him, distracted by what happened between her legs. “It takes two. I’ll only take a fraction of the credit.”
“A big fraction, I’m sure.”
“Hey, you’re the math guy.” Nala kissed him all over, from his lips to his cheeks, to his throat, back to his forehead and then all over again. “Fuck me.”
Thank God, he did just that.
Nala wasn’t an easy woman to impress, but not only had Vincent done that more than once, but he did it yet again, lifting himself into her, over and over, unrelenting. Nala held herself as steady as possible against the couch as he had his way with her, using everything he had to take her right where it mattered most.
“Yes!” she cried into his throat, feeling the exquisite way his cock continuously slid in and out of her. Her body accommodated him by stretching around him, inviting him to keep his hold on her while he did whatever he damn well pleased. “Vincent!”
His hands kneaded both sides of her ass as she lifted up and down in his lap, taking his lovemaking as if she had no other choice in the world. I’ve got all the choice. I choose to be here, doing this. That thought made her cling harder to the couch before grabbing his shoulders and holding herself steady over his lap. Just let him do it, girl. The sheer power behind his thrusts was enough to make her whine so loudly that, if Vincent had neighbors and his loft wasn’t so well insulated already, they definitely would have heard.
Her mouth finally meandered to his, tongue penetrating her up top as she was below. Just kill me already! Although she wasn’t bound, gagged, or in any situation that gave her any less power than usual, she found herself unable to do what she wanted – whatever that was. Nala was naturally deferring to Vincent’s whims, letting him control every movement, every moment they shared on his leather couch.
“I’m gonna come,” she murmured between his lips. Nala could feel every spark of an orgasm get ready to fire in her body. “You gonna come with me?”
Nala’s hand landed lightly around his throat, indulging in the silk of his shirt and the softness of his skin. She didn’t get a response. Not right away. She was too busy giving herself over to the throes of orgasm, letting it expand like a blast through her. The epicenter was her thighs as they fought to stay as spread as possible.
“Vincent!” Her voice pealed through the loft, fingers scrambling for purchase either on his shoulders or the back of the couch. He continued to pound into her, letting gravity bring his hips down before defying it again with his strength. It prolonged her climax, taking her down, up, down again until she thought she might pass out from exhaustion.
When she finally came down for the last time, it was to the side of his erection, one knee slipping off the couch while the rest of her followed until she lay across his lap, avoiding his cock. Her pants disappeared into the couch beneath her face as Vincent continued to massage her ass and the thighs beneath.
“No,” he growled, hand passing from Nala’s curves and to the erection still springing from his lap. Nala thought he would finish himself off before she had the chance to sit up and use her mouth to bring him to the final moments of his pleasure. As she was about to plead for him to hold off, Vincent reached beneath her and brought her up into his arms. He stood, Nala hoisted over his shoulder as he made for the spiral staircase.