Page 35 of The Nephilim's Finesse

She moved up again and slowly down, taking me in a little further. It was so painfully slow, as I wanted to be fully inside her right now. I licked my thumb and brought it to her clit, rubbing around it to build the tension. She glided a bit further down my shaft, taking me inch by inch inside her. I could feel her walls clenching and milking me while she adjusted to my cock. Her moans got louder while she climbed higher, and when my thumb got in direct contact with her clit, she climaxed, and I took her hip with my other hand and pushed her down on me, burrowing my cock deep inside her. She was so tight, her heat engulfing me. It was divine. For a minute, she sat still on me, her eyes wide.

“I never felt so filled. In a good way.”

I gave her a small smile. “When you’re ready, start to move.”

Her brows furrowed, uncertainty written over her face. “How?”

“Either up and down or back and forth, or a mix of it, however you like.”

She moved in different manners for the next few minutes until she found a pace that suited her best. Her velvet core was heavenly. Pride filled me with the thought that I was the first man she wanted to have inside of her in almost four hundred years, who she enjoyed being with. Who brought her to heights she never knew before. Her breast lay heavy in my hands, and I pinched her nipple while her movements became faster and faster. She rode me until she climaxed again, and only then did I allow myself to let go and come, too. Vampires and Nephilim were sterile and couldn't transmit any human diseases, so we didn’t need to think about any protection.

Still sitting on top of me, her green eyes found mine. “I never thought that I would enjoy this.”

“But you did,” I stated, half asking a question.

She nodded. “Very.”

Satisfied, I smiled, my hands still on her hips. I didn’t want to let her go; I didn't want her to leave this secure haven we had built in this bed. When we got up, we’d go back to the questioning, becoming enemies again. Now, we were lovers, and I wanted to stay that way.

Victorija squinted her eyes and sighed. Then she pushed off of me and vanished into the bathroom. I dressed and sat down in one of the chairs. The books I bought her were well-read, with dog-eared pages she wanted to revisit. I memorised which books she enjoyed the most and planned to buy her more books of this kind.

She came back dressed in a bathrobe, her red curls spilling over the white fabric. She sat down opposite me, and a challenging glance entered her eyes.

“Bring it on.”

“All right. Why did you choose your name? I guess you weren’t born as Victorija. Rather Victoria.”

Her eyes went glassy, and she was lost in memory for some time. I waited for her to come back.

“After I escaped the warlock and made him pay,” she spat, full of contempt. “I wanted to bring as much space between me and England. I travelled. In the end, I stayed for some years in Lithuania, where an old, nice lady pronounced my name like that, Victorija. I liked it.”

I tilted my head and waited for her to continue the story. She held my stare, then sighed. “She also said I had a heart full of flames, so when I left, I called myself Victorija Flameheart.” Her voice was sad, and her shoulders slumped.

“She died,” I said softly. “The old lady.” It wasn’t a question.

Victorija looked up. The softness in her eyes turned frosty again. “So does everybody.”

With this sentence, she ended the topic; clearly, she didn't want to discuss it anymore. Fine with me.

I cleared my throat. “Why did you order the kidnapping of the young witches last September? You had to know that it was fruitless to get them pregnant.”

Her eyes lost focus for a moment, and she bit her lips while remembering. “Tom told me that he encountered a witch with a red and black aura who was pregnant with a hybrid child. First, I didn’t believe him. My other source confirmed this, and I concluded that we know nothing. Everybody thought that it was impossible between a witch and a Nephilim, which was incorrect. Why should it be impossible between a witch and a vampire? Maybe they exchange auras, too. Or can impregnate a witch.”

I shook my head. “Because dead beings can’t produce life,” I answered her question, barely able to contain my rage.

“And how could I have known that? It isn’t like we were talking, exchanging information on a regular basis.” She crossed her arms over her breasts in defiance.

“I don’t understand. With your past, you were cool with getting these young witches abducted and raped?”

Her nonchalant shrug set me off. “They were witches,” she answered casually. “They deserved it.”

I gritted my teeth, and my fists clenched tightly at my sides as I seethed with indignation. “Maybe the warlocks thought the same about you.”

She jumped out of her seat with a feral snarl, baring her sharp fangs and glaring at me menacingly. I got up as well, ready to fight if she attacked me. Fists clenched by her side, she stepped closer. “Oh no, I was kind to them. This was nothing in comparison to what the warlocks did to me!”

The bitter taste of hatred welled up within me as I looked into her eyes and gritted my teeth. “You justify your actions as kindness? Those were young women between fifteen and twenty-two. You destroyed their lives! Did you even see them?”

She nodded tardily, then shrugged nonchalantly. “It could have been worse.”

---