Page 43 of The Nephilim's Finesse

Victorija settled more comfortably in her chair, her pale hands twisting in her lap. Our gazes locked as John's hot mouth engulfed me. Her look travelled from John's mouth, stretched wide around my length, up to meet my eyes. Pleasure sparked down my spine and spread through my limbs like wildfire. I tangled my fingers in John's brown hair, his wet sucking the only sound in the room. He hummed around my cock, the vibration sending stars across my vision. All the while, Victorija watched with parted lips, her breaths coming quicker. Arousal darkened her eyes to emerald as she pressed her thighs together. My heart thundered as I drowned in the sea of her emerald gaze. Never had I known such exquisite torture: John's clever tongue and Victorija's rapt attention were driving me swiftly toward the edge. I gritted my teeth against the building pressure, determined to prolong this sweet agony.

“Oh my…”

Though my body tensed at her interruption, I kept my expression neutral. John hesitated, looking to me for direction. Should he stop, and we'd dedicate our attention to Victorija, or should he continue? I nodded once, threading my fingers through his hair to guide him back to the task at hand. I stared into the vampire's wide eyes as John's head bobbed between my thighs once more, inducing a gasp from her. My lips curved into a smirk. Two could play this game. John moaned while I thrust myself into his mouth, my eyes never leaving Victorija’s. My back arched, and my wings unfurled as my release barrelled down on me. Victorija's hands were clenched in her lap, her eyes burning into mine. The air between us crackled with unspoken longing.

Victorija rose gracefully from the chair towards us and slid the dress from her shoulders, pale limbs gleaming in the dim light. I knew her desire made her bold, and I was glad she would join us. My muscles tightened as she sank to her knees beside John, nudging him aside, her fingers wrapping around the base of my cock. I didn’t know how long I could hold back if she took over.

"So hard already," she purred, crimson lips curving.

Her gaze flicked to John as she leant in. "You always love watching, don't you?"

Her tongue flicked out to trace the vein throbbing along the underside of my shaft. I groaned at the silken heat of her mouth and the scrape of her fangs. My cock twitched, ready to push deeper into her mouth. She released me with a wet pop. "You taste divine, Raph."

"As do you, my queen." The endearment slipped unbidden from my lips. I cupped her cheek, thumb brushing over the delicate bone. Feeling my legs getting wobbly, I stepped back and let myself sink into the armchair. “Now, suck my cock.”

She grinned at me, then crawled on all fours towards me. Victorija settled between my thighs, her gripping the base of my cock while her tongue darted out and licked around my shaft, then the head, tasting me.

"Enough teasing," I gritted out. The ache in my loins was nearing unbearable; the arousal heightened by the sight of John fisting his cock out of the corner of my eye.

Victorija's answering smile was all sharp teeth. Then she engulfed me in the wet heat of her mouth, taking me nearly to the root. My back arched, and my wings, draped over the backrest, shivered as she began to suck in earnest. The sensation intensified when John moved behind her, fingers sliding through her folds. She shifted to present her rear to John in an unmistakable invitation. He growled and gripped her hips to plunge deep with his fingers—and then he was sliding home, thrusting into her in time with the bob of her head.

Victorija moaned, the sound muffled as she took me in her mouth once more. The sight of her sandwiched between us, giving and receiving pleasure, shattered the last of my restraint. I tangled my hands in her hair and thrust into the welcoming heat of her mouth in time with John's thrusts. The three of us moved as one, a perfect rhythm of push and pull, give and take. Pressure coiled at the base of my spine, white-hot and molten, as I watched through half-lidded eyes how Victorija's pale cheeks hollowed out with each stroke.

The vortex spun faster, dragging me under. I came with a grunt, pumping my come down Victorija's throat while she sucked every last drop from me.

“Sometime, I want to fuck your tight little arse,” groaned John behind her. A heartbeat later, John let out a moan, his fingers digging into Victorija's hips while his other hand pumped into her. When the release hit Victorija, it was like a freight train. She cried out, buckling between John and me, my fingers twisting sharply in her hair. She bit down, sucking my blood, the bright flare of pain only intensifying my climax—and then I was coming again, harder this time, my vision whiting out at the edges.

After a long moment, John pulled his fingers out of Victorija, his green eyes glowing with desire. I released Victorija's hair, silently apologising, running my fingers through the strands. She merely purred, licking her lips with a cat-got-the-cream smile. I tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, the gesture grounding me in the aftermath of passion. Victorija stretched with feline grace, uncaring of her nudity.

"You all right?" John asked, lips curving into a smug smile. He knew damn well the state she'd put me in.

"Fine," I managed, though my voice came out rough. I cleared my throat, dragging a hand through my damp hair. "More than fine."

John's smile widened, and then he guided Victorija to bed. The three of us lay on the cover, Victorija between John and me. She made a sleepy sound of contentment, nestling closer to me, and I couldn't help but tighten my arm around her.

John shifted lower then, sliding down Victorija's body, hands gliding over her skin. He parted her thighs, bending to swipe his tongue through her folds, and Victorija whimpered, arching into the touch. I slid my hands up to cup her breasts, rolling her nipples between my fingers in time with the thrust of John's tongue. Her breath came in panting gasps, her body tensing as John drove her higher. When her climax hit, it was with a sharp cry, back arching as her inner walls clamped down on nothing. John lapped at her through it, not relenting until she collapsed back against me, limbs loose and trembling. Only then did John raise his head, lips and chin glistening, and crawl back up. With a nod from me, he collected his clothes and vanished through the door.

Victorija was so spent, her eyes half closed, bliss over her face. She was fully sated with pleasure and blood and relaxed against me. We lay like that for minutes, her back against my chest, my arm around her waist. Victorija caressed my arm with her fingertip until she turned her head, her eyes finding mine, and her head moved a fraction towards me. She focused on my lips, then closed her eyes. I did the same, allowing myself to savour this movement. I was in heaven with her pressed against me. She belonged in my arms. I inhaled her scent, my nose stroking against hers. Then I felt lips on mine. I opened my eyes and saw that she was still relaxed despite her fast heartbeat. Her eyes were closed, her mouth lightly on mine. She kissed me. Or rather, she held her lips against mine, unsure of what to do.

Should I give in? Take this from pure sex to something more? But who was I kidding? For me, this had been something more than just sex for a while now. I wanted to kiss her. In fact, since she hung on those chains, I imagined it. We had several moments when I was short of taking her lips, but I held back. I swore that this would be a barrier I wouldn’t cross, that I wouldn't be that intimate with her.

Yet, I craved her lips more than anything. I graced my lips over hers, licked the bottom lip, and when she opened her mouth in surprise, I introduced the tip of my tongue. She let me in willingly, and I swirled around her sweet tongue. She kissed me back carefully, tenderly, with an emotion I couldn't place. I knew that she had never kissed someone before, but she was a fast learner, and within minutes, she kissed me back skilfully. While our mouths worked on one another, something shifted in me. I didn’t want any other man inside of her ever again; I wanted to be the only man she would have. Possession overwhelmed me, and my hard cock wanted to be inside of her, erasing every memory of John. Not breaking the kiss, I moved on top of her, placed myself between her legs, and entered her slowly.

She gasped, but I didn’t let go of her mouth. Her hands were on my nape; she didn’t want me to, either. I moved slowly over her, relishing the glorious feeling of being inside her velvet core. She kissed me back, full of emotion, her little gasps not breaking the kiss.

Then I realised what I was doing right now. I didn’t fuck her. I made love to her. I made love to my enemy, and I didn’t care. Nothing was better in the world than to be near her, kiss her, and feel her hot, tight core around me.

We moved slowly, both dreading that it would be over too soon, that the spell would break if we finished. Our kisses were full of longing, of desire, not for aiding in getting a release, but desperate for emotion, for closeness. Yet, at some point, the pent-up passion found its release. Afterwards, I stayed inside of her, still kissing her. Eventually, I broke the kiss, and she opened her eyes, blinking against the light. They were full of emotion, tenderness, and caring. When I shifted to stand up, her hands tightened around my neck.

“No,” she whispered, her look turning unsure. “Please, stay here with me.”

I moved back, getting closer again, caging her in between my arms, and she sighed, relieved. We kissed again. At some point, I moved her on top of me, and when my cock was rested enough and stirred again, Victorija smiled triumphantly against my lips and started to move her hips.

We made love for hours, kissing, resting, and making love again. Something changed dramatically between us, and I never wanted that to go away again.

After spending time with Victorija, I went home to fall into my bed, totally wrecked. We were so exhausted after so many orgasms that I'd question her in the morning.

On Christmas morning, I checked my phone while I made myself a coffee—several unanswered calls from Azariel, Nate, Mike, and Puriel. I read my texts and saw that Nate had called for an emergency meeting in about one hour. Charlie and Andrew, the siblings who were the partners of Mike and Azariel, were captured by unknown forces yesterday afternoon. Fuck! I was so beat that I hadn’t heard my phone! My friends were worried about where their loved ones were and how they were doing, and I wasn't there for them! I was an awful friend and a worse leader of the Nephilim. Fortunately, Nate and Puriel had taken over for me.

---