Under His Wings (13 page)

“What did you say?” he asked, deliberately enunciating each
word.

“Bull. Shit,” she reiterated just as carefully. “Pria knew
what you were and what you did when she married you. Even though you’d
resigned, she went into the relationship with her eyes open and accepted the
risk just like you did. And neither of you are to blame for what happened.
That’s squarely on the shoulders of the spineless piece of shit that preyed on
a defenseless woman.”

A heartbeat of silence passed.

Then another.

He continued to study her. And though it unnerved her, she
refused to fidget under his unblinking inspection. Okay, so she could have
stated her opinion with more tact. Damn. She was going to have to apologize…

“You do have a way with words,” he finally drawled.
Amusement, not anger, colored his voice, softened the severe cut of his mouth.
“Now it’s my turn to thank you.”

Tamar ducked her head and scrubbed her palms over her
thighs. Shyness was not in her genetic make-up and its appearance disconcerted
the hell out of her.

“Do you think…” she blurted.

“Do I think what?” he pressed.

After a moment where she called herself everything from
needy to sappy, she forced the question out. “Do you think if I didn’t resemble
Pria there would be this attraction between us?” She winced. “What I mean… Is
your guilt the reason why you’re determined to protect me from Evander?”

His touch, featherlight and tender, brushed her jaw,
caressed the length of her throat before sweeping back up to trace her mouth.
Her lashes fluttered then closed. She melted, dissolved into a puddle of butter
right at his feet.

“Open your eyes,” he said. Though wrapped in velvet, the
order brooked no argument. When she obeyed, the fire had returned to his gaze
and stoked the flames inside her higher. “I want you to see the truth in my
eyes and never question this again.”

She nodded, her lips parted on a soft pant.

“Yes, you look like Pria.” His fingers drifted over the
cleft in her chin, lingered on the dent that had been the butt of many jokes as
a child. “But it wasn’t Pria I dreamed with these last six months. I didn’t see
your face, Tamar. All I knew was your body, as familiar to me as my own now. I
knew your arms that offered me comfort when I returned from fighting. I knew
your body that beat back the loneliness and gave me pleasure and
forgetfulness.”

He smoothed a palm over her wild curls. But the fierce,
hungry expression he wore made her feel as if her bane-of-my-existence hair
were made of the finest spun gold.

“In the past few days I’ve discovered you are brave, loyal,
resourceful.” His mouth twisted and she thought of her botched escape attempt.
“You are a warrior…beautiful and honorable. Lukas, Adon, Dorian and I…we’re
protecting you because you are worthy and we can do nothing else.”

Awe, pride and joy coalesced in her chest, gathered heat
like a swirling supernova before exploding and cascading in a shower that
rained throughout her body. Tears stung her eyes and she disobeyed Nicolai and
squeezed them shut.

Kyle hadn’t been the only abuser. She’d berated and
belittled herself. Weak, ugly, scarred—those words had been the bat she’d used
to beat her self-esteem. Kyle had screamed she would never find anyone who
would want her. And she’d agreed with him. Who
could
possibly want her,
a woman disfigured inside and out?

She was afraid of the dark, refused to get on a plane,
limped when tired and bore a road map of scars that covered half her body.

He’d called her beautiful with a gentleness that made her
sink her teeth into her bottom lip.

Beautiful. Brave.

A warrior.

Her. A warrior.

She lifted her lashes, met his hot gaze. In that stare she
spied the truth he’d promised. And desire. Such desire her breath snagged in
her throat.

“Nicolai,” she whispered.

“Nico,” he rasped, gripping a handful of her hair, still
careful not to tug on her healing scalp. “You always call me Nico in our
dreams. Say it for me here, now.”

“Nico,” she murmured and turned her face into the palm that
cradled her cheek. She placed a kiss there and delighted in the slight abrasion
of the roughened skin over her lips.

With a groan, he drew her head back and covered her mouth
with his.

Oh God.
She shuddered. The wind-and-heather taste of
him…the sensation of his firm, wide mouth crushed to hers…they were better than
the dreams.

He didn’t coax her into opening her lips—his wasn’t a
hesitant first kiss. They’d been lovers for six months and he kissed her as a
man who knew what his woman wanted, needed. His tongue thrust forward,
capturing and claiming like the animal that lurked inside him. He swept the
interior of her mouth, tangled with her tongue, inviting her to play.

Accepting, she turned fully toward him, slid her hands up
his shoulders, skipped to his cheeks and burrowed her fingers through his
thick, golden curls. Silky and bright, they were the only soft thing about this
warrior. The strands tickled her wrists, adding another sensory experience to
the moment.

Their tongues danced, dueled, mated. Desire and its ruthless
twin, lust, flowed and surged through her blood stream.
More
…
She
moaned, licking the roof of his mouth.
I need more. I’m burning up.

A growl met her demand, the rumble pouring directly into
her. Had she voiced the words aloud?

But then his broad hands cupped her breasts through her top
and she didn’t give a damn if she’d verbalized the request or texted it.

He molded her flesh, squeezed it even as he continued to
kiss her senseless. Before she’d considered her breasts average—not too small,
but nothing to make a man fall down and worship at her feet. Yet as Nicolai
lifted his head and stared down at her chest with lust stamped on his features,
she believed herself perfect. His eyes blazed, his skin pulled taut over his
cheekbones and his sensual lips were swollen and damp. No one could fake that
hunger. He wanted her and the thought ratcheted her desire up another searing
decimal.

She arched into his touch, needing more pressure. As if he’d
read her mind again, he cupped her breasts and whisked his thumbs over the
nipples until she cried out.

“Take it off,” she said. “Please.” She didn’t have to
explain what she meant. Which was good because she didn’t have the words or the
breath. Nicolai released her, grasped the bottom of her shirt and dragged it up
her torso and over her head.

Before she had time to lower her arms, he dipped his head
and closed his lips over her nipple. Tamar cried out, fingers digging into his
scalp, back bowing to pleasure so acute it bordered on the icy edge of pain.

Not that he granted her any mercy.

His tongue lashed and stabbed at the tip before suckling so
hard and deep his cheeks hollowed. With each draw on her flesh a pulse of
moisture escaped her sex and coated her folds, her inner thighs.

She whispered incoherent things to him, pleading,
praising…maybe demanding. Pleasure had transformed her into a babbling mess.

Nicolai switched from one breast to the other, treating the
second nipple to the same attention. His tongue swirled around the tautened
peak, tugging on it, lapping like a huge feline before consuming it within the
hot cavern of his mouth.

“More?”

“Yes,” she cried out.

He deserted her breasts, lowered her to the blanket and
trailed brief open-mouthed kisses down her belly. She shivered, moaning when
his knuckles brushed over her skin as he drew her pants down her legs. It
occurred to her that his sexy whisper had come from inside her head. His voice
had stroked the walls of her mind. How had…

“No!” she screamed. And splintered.

Just one lick of his tongue and she came in a hard, brutal
crack of ecstasy.

“Fuck, that was sexy,” he snarled and curled his tongue
around her clit, sucking the pulsing nub. Shattered by that abrupt cataclysm,
Tamar wearily shoved at his head and shoulders. She needed a moment to recover.
But Nicolai circled her wrists, gently but firmly pressed them prisoner to the
floor beside her hips and nuzzled her clit. She shivered.

“Again,” he murmured. “Slower.”

She’d barely survived fast. Slow would kill her.

He chuckled, low, husky and full of erotic promise. Had she
said that aloud too? Damn, the mind-blowing orgasm must’ve loosened her lips.
With sure, swift hands he swept her pants farther down her thighs and
completely off.

The first languorous stroke let her know she was in for a
long, torturous ride. Her hips jerked as she tried to avoid the almost painful
pleasure of his caress over flesh still sensitive from orgasm. In response,
Nicolai wedged himself tighter between her thighs, his shoulders spreading her
wide so her sex was exposed, open and vulnerable to his eyes and touch.

“Easy,” he said softly and released one of her wrists to pet
her sex, to soothe her. Her heart contracted then melted even as her body
raged. She appreciated the sentiment but nothing could calm the fire consuming
her from the inside out.

“So beautiful,” he murmured and dipped his head. His fingers
returned to her arm as the flat of his tongue separated her nether lips,
tasting the liquid heat that flowed out of her—damn it—pussy. He groaned, the
hum another luxurious sensation on top of many others. Her stomach clenched,
went concave as he returned for a second pass. “Such sweet cream.”

One second he was lazy, unhurried, as if he had nowhere to
go, no orgasm to give. But in the next, he devoured her. Palming her ass,
Nicolai hauled her hips in the air, bent to her pussy and ate her like a
starving man at a $1.99 all-you-can-eat buffet.

Lips, tongue, teeth—all came into play as he sucked her
clit, licked her swollen lips and fucked her, thrusting deep with his tongue
and fingers.

Hands freed from his grasp, she gripped his hair, clutching
him to her in case he had any bright ideas about leaving. Not that he seemed
discontent between her thighs, driving her toward a release that would make the
previous one feel like a ripple on the surface of a summer pond.

Or a firecracker in the face of an atom bomb.

On a snarl that would later shock and embarrass the hell out
of her, she undulated her hips, circling and grinding, riding his mouth as she
chased the orgasm that crackled just out of reach.

Two long fingers plunged in and out of her quivering pussy
while his oh-so-bad tongue stabbed and flicked her clit.

“Nico,” she gasped. Shuddered. Cried out. Her back tightened
and lightening sizzled up her spine, raced back down and imploded.

When she returned to earth moments—eons—later, it amazed her
she remained in one piece. She stared up at him, too dazed to move or speak.
Pleasure buzzed through her, a hive of drunken bees.

Quickly he leaned back, shoved the black pants down his hips
and thighs. Rising to the balls of his feet, he pushed the soft material
farther down and kicked it away, his usually sinuous, graceful movements jerky
and hurried. He crawled over her on his hands and knees. The flames from the
fireplace leapt in his violet eyes, emphasizing the fierce snarl on his lips,
the harsh jut of his cheekbones. His body, honed by hundreds of years of
battle, strained above her and the perfect marble-like column of his cock
jutted out from between his rock-hard thighs.

Both her mouth and sex watered at his gorgeous nakedness.

The dreams had been real to her, but being here with him in
real life…it was like comparing black-and-white to hi-definition. One was great
until you discovered and experienced the other. Then there was no going back.

“Damn!” Nicolai froze, a scowl darkening his face. Without
warning he jackknifed to his feet, barked, “Don’t you dare move,” and stalked
naked from the living room.

She obeyed. Not out of fear—her limbs were still Jell-O
after her last orgasm.

Short moments later, he returned. Dropping to his knees
between her legs, he lifted a silver square to his mouth, gripped it between
his white teeth and ripped a strip from the top. Damn. It had completely
slipped her mind to request protection. She’d never been that forgetful. Not
even with—her mind slammed down before it could complete the sentence. Bringing
him
into the room seemed blasphemous.

Nicolai sheathed his cock and in a blur of movement fell
over her in an animalistic crouch, resembling a great lion more than the
eagle-stallion combination of his true form. His head lowered and he captured
her mouth in a hot kiss that left her panting. Hunger flared in her belly,
clenched her sex as if the powerful orgasm had been hours ago instead of
minutes.

“Put your legs and arms around me,” he said against her
lips, voice guttural, harsh. “Hold onto me. And don’t let go.”

God, that was her fear. When the time came, she feared she
wouldn’t be able to let go. A tremble unconnected to desire skittered through
her as she complied with his demand.

His cock pushed into her and simultaneously chased the
frightening thought from her mind.

She gasped. Now this remained the same. The burning and
stretching of her pussy as the head probed then penetrated her body, followed
by the first couple of inches of wide, thick cock. She hissed in pain-laced
pleasure as her muscles flexed around his rigid flesh, attempting to relax and
adjust.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, one hand palming the back of her neck and
the other cupping the curve of her ass, holding her off the floor and pressed
to his body. His strength awed her, made her feel delicate and safe. “Do that
again.”

Do what again? He’s the one doing all the work.

Another low chuckle. “Squeeze me with your pussy again,” he
clarified. A groan, long and sensual, rolled from his chest as she clenched her
walls around the length of him embedded inside her. “Yes,” he said, tilting her
head back and burying his face in her throat. “Like that.”