Under His Wings (14 page)

His hips withdrew, dragging his cock out those few precious
increments, then began a steady rhythm of advance and retreat on her pussy. She
shuddered in his hold as he continued his sensual campaign, rocking back and
forth, murmuring calming, encouraging words against her skin until he was fully
buried inside her spasming sex.

Only then did he pause and allow her to become accustomed to
his width and length. The dreams didn’t compare to reality. His muscled arms
clutched her tight while his erection throbbed in her pussy. Every pulse, every
jerk resonated deep inside her. She shook in his arms, overwhelmed and
overtaken. His body covered and filled her. Her flesh was forever tattooed by
his scent, his lips, his cock.

“Shhh…” He eased her like one would a fractious filly. His
palm massaged her nape while the other stroked her spine before cupping her ass
again. His lips slid up her neck, sipped at her jaw and finally took her lips
in a kiss that stirred and soothed.

“Ready?” he asked. She nodded, her breath a caged prisoner.
“Good,” he murmured, then set about fucking her.

Deep, hard plunges into her pussy. Slow, erotic grinds of
his hips. Short, shallow jabs of his cock. He gave them all to her, assuaging
and stoking the conflagration building inside her sex. She twisted in his
embrace, her cries becoming hoarse mewls as his thrusts alternated, driving her
toward orgasm but not letting her go over the edge.

“Nico,” she rasped, her arms clinging vines around his
shoulders. “Please.” She shuddered as his pelvic bone stroked her clit. “Please
let me go.”

Not release her. God, she never wanted him to release her.
Just
give
her release.

With a moan, he crushed his mouth to hers and as if the
leash on his control snapped, he rode her hell-bent-for-leather.

And flung her into orgasm.

It crashed into her, over her, inside her.

The previous two, as cataclysmic as they’d been, couldn’t
compare to this devastating soul-shaping event. It changed her. She became a
part of the stars and sky she soared to meet.

And as she plummeted back to earth, wings of the richest
chocolate-dipped-in-cream soared above her, filling her vision. She gasped,
releasing Nicolai to reach for them. As in her dreams, their beauty never
failed to amaze her.

Tamar closed her eyes, tipped her head back and spread her
arms wide.

She didn’t fear free-falling.

Not when golden-tipped wings cradled her close to cushion
her fall.

Chapter Seven

Agony. Fire. Eating her alive…

Tamar jolted awake and surged upward from the floor.

Her breath sawed in and out of lips still parted on a
soundless scream. Her chest rose and fell on the silent bellows.

The crash. She’d dreamed of the crash. Of burning flesh.

The terror of absolute blackness…nothingness except for
pain…

“Tamar?”

Her head snapped to the side. Nicolai sat beside her, his
violet eyes alert, his dark brown brows drawn into a deep vee. He stroked her
curls back from her face, brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek then
smoothed her hair over her shoulder.

The simple, loving caresses settled her as no words could.

Her rapid heartbeat slowed as did her erratic breathing.

“You okay?” he asked, rubbing a wide circle on her back. His
concern warmed her and she sighed. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she shook
her head. As the fear receded, embarrassment crept in.

“A dream. About the crash. I—”

Searing pain blasted up her legs, her stomach, rounded to
her back. She gasped at the torture and bent over at the waist. Her hands shot
to her thighs. Both spasmed, darts of agony shooting from the soles of her
feet, up her calves and splintering in her thighs.

“Tamar.” Nicolai’s voice penetrated the veil of red mist
that danced before her eyes. Though his tone remained calm, unflappable, he
sprang to his feet in a blur of movement, hunkering down beside her. “What is
it?”

“My legs,” she panted, fingers digging into the seizing
muscles. “Back.”

Taking charge, Nicolai removed her hands before laying her
amid the tangled covers and sheet. He gripped her left, scarred leg and
massaged the limb. His firm kneading traveled beyond the damaged tissue to the
muscle, tendons and ligaments beneath. She groaned and arched into his
unyielding touch.

Relief followed. Initially, it trickled in, like the first
tentative drops of water from a well’s spout. But as Nicolai kept up his
ministrations, it flowed steady and,
God
, so welcome. She groaned,
shifted and groaned again. It was wonderful.

He worked the entire length of her leg then switched to the
other.

“Roll over,” he said and she obeyed willingly.

Her back, from the nape to the top of her bottom, received
the same treatment. By the time the convulsions quieted to negligible twinges,
her body ached as if she’d just run a twenty-six-mile marathon…and had conked
out at mile five.

Despair swelled inside her, a huge squall of grief,
frustration and dread. This episode had been the worse yet. Not even the last
two nights where she’d had to walk the spasms off had been this bad.

She squeezed her eyes closed, refusing to wail like a baby
and give in to the anguish threatening to swallow her whole.

Would this be her life? Constant pain with someone always
tending her like an invalid? She’d fought so damn hard. When the doctors told
her she probably wouldn’t have the use of her arm or leg again, she’d proved
them wrong. And when they amended their opinion to you will walk with a cane
for the rest of your life, she’d pushed herself until she could stand on her
own with no assistance.

Yes, when she over-exerted herself she limped, but she had
overcome. Gained her independence. Didn’t have to depend on anyone for the
mundane things like going to the bathroom, fetching a glass of water or getting
out of the bed.

And now this.

The cramps her doctor and physical therapist had warned her
about didn’t describe this debilitating pain.

“How long has this been going on?” Nicolai murmured from
above her, his manipulation of her muscles never faltering. It had been a while
since the fit had started and yet he worked tirelessly, as if it had been five
minutes rather than forty-five.

“A few months,” she replied and wanted to cringe at the
forlorn note in her voice. “My doctor and therapist told me I would experience
occasional spasms for the rest of my life, but I assumed they referred to my
left side. But these…” she scrambled for the correct word to describe the
convulsive attack that had just occurred, “seizures take over my right leg,
too, as well as my back. They didn’t mention that. And it scares me. It scares
the hell out of me,” she confessed softly.

“You haven’t told them about it?”

She shook her head, her cheek brushing the pillow. “This has
been the worst episode by far. In the beginning they were twinges, like small
cramps. But tonight…” She swallowed hard. “I believed all this was behind me,
that I was over the hump. I’d made peace with having some physical limitations
like my limp when I push myself too hard. But I can’t accept this, Nico,” she
whispered. “I can’t.”

“You can and you will.”

The sharp retort stunned her. So much she flipped over and
gaped at him. “Excuse me?”

“You are a fighter,” he stated flatly, sitting back on his
heels and crossing his arms. “Just because this is a hurdle you didn’t expect
doesn’t mean you lay down and die. You fight to recover just like you did after
the crash.” He slowly rose, and then lowered over her in a crouch, shoved his
face into hers. “Do you know one of the rules of war?” he asked, his nose bumping
hers.

“Don’t get dead.”

Amusement flared in his eyes at her biting sarcasm, but he
didn’t crack a smile.

“True,” he said. “But not the one I was thinking of. You
cannot defeat an unknown enemy.” His tone hardened, eyes narrowed, sharpened.
“Fact-finding. Information gathering. It’s why we scout ahead and infiltrate
our enemies’ camps. Dig deep into the methods, lives and psyches of our
adversaries. Then we know when, where and how to strike. And when we do, it’s
effective and devastating.”

“Leonidas had nothing on you,” she murmured.

This time he did smile and its light was a beacon to her
battered spirit.

“You want in on a little secret?” He waited until she nodded
before bending his head, nuzzling her ear and whispering, “I taught Leonidas
everything he knew.”

She snickered and slapped his shoulder—the same one that had
sported a battle scar days earlier. “Now you’re just bragging, Buckbeak.”

He laughed and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Go to the
doctor, Tamar, and find out what’s the cause of these episodes. Then beat it.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll go.”

“Good,” he said before covering her mouth with his. Heat
flared to instant life in her chest, her gut, her pussy. She slid her palms up
the golden, taut skin of his arms, over the bold tribal tattoo and the tight
muscles that stood out in stark relief as he balanced most of his weight on his
hands. She didn’t stop until his thick curls were tangled in her fingers. With
a hum of pleasure, she gripped his head tight, pulling him closer until their lips
and tongues meshed in an erotic battle that had no loser.

Nicolai drew back. “Are you okay?” he asked, his ragged
breath hot blasts of air on her lips. His gaze bored into hers, demanding the
truth.

“Yes,” she assured him, punctuating the answer with a hard
kiss. “Don’t stop.”

“Never.” His vow, serious and fervent, touched her in a
place she’d considered dead after Kyle’s betrayal. The place that wanted to
believe in the goodness of people. The place that yearned to be innocent and
trusting again.

She stared into his lilac eyes and was reminded of the lily.
Life, healing and death. Like the flower, Nicolai comprised all of those
elements. He brought death to some so his people could live. And healing…well,
he’d been healing her since she’d first dreamed of him three years ago.

“You are the most beautiful creature I have ever
encountered,” she said, the confession hoarse with the awed longing that
clogged her throat, stung her eyes. He was turning her into such a water-head!
She’d cried more in the last few days than she had in a year.

His head snapped back as if she’d clipped him on the chin.
Surprise parted his lips, slackened his face. In that instant, she guessed no
one had ever called him beautiful before.
Well shame on them. Someone as
devoted, faithful and selfless as him should hear it every day.

When she thought about how that person should be her, she
quickly shoved the idea out and locked the door behind it. This wasn’t forever,
but here and now, for however long she remained under his protection. To
imagine it could be more…that line of thinking would only lead to heartache.

So she would make sure to tell him now…while she had him.

Placing both palms on his chest, she pushed. Complying with
her unspoken request, Nicolai straightened. She scooted out from under him and
rose, facing him. But she wasn’t satisfied until they’d reversed positions and
he had reclined on the pallet and she hovered over him on her hands and knees.

Lowering her torso, she swept her lips over his, back and
forth, back and forth. Impatient, Nicolai grasped her nape and hauled her down
for a hot, wet kiss. She surrendered to it, her tongue plunging between his
lips to tangle and twist with his. He growled into her mouth, angled his head
to the side and dove deeper. Planting her hands on either side of his head, she
pressed down and gave as good as she got.

She nipped his full bottom lip then slicked her tongue over
the small wound. He traced the line of her spine and she arched into the slow,
sensuous stroke. When he cupped her ass, she purred.

“No fair,” she grumbled. “This is for you.” His long fingers
flexed against her ass cheeks and she wiggled into the caress.

“Oh, I agree,” he said, hunger bright in his eyes, imprinted
on his face. “And I can’t wait to have it.”

Appalled shock mixed with arousal. He couldn’t possibly
mean… His fingertips traced the crease that bisected her bottom.
Oh yeah
.
She groaned, dismayed at the streak of pleasure that coiled in her gut at the
taboo touch. He definitely meant
that
.

Shaken by her decided lack of horror and abhorrence to the
idea of Nicolai kneeling behind her, filling her in a place only her
gynecologist had breached, Tamar closed her eyes and shivered before continuing
on her journey.

She skimmed her lips over his chin, down the strong column
of his throat to the wide expanse of his chest. Her tongue traced every whorl
and line of his tattoo, worshipped every bit of honey-and-butter skin that
covered his massive upper body. Even his fingers received attention—she sucked
each digit between her pursed lips, flicking the blunt tips. He grunted and his
hips jerked.

Hmmm…
She smiled against his ridged abdomen. She’d
discovered a new erogenous zone to be lingered over later. She swirled her
tongue in the shallow bowl of his navel then roamed lower to the concave cradle
of his pelvic bone. Beneath her, Nicolai stiffened, apparently surmising her
eventual destination. His chest rose and fell and his hips rolled restlessly.
The turgid length of his cock grazed her cheek as she knelt between his spread
legs and his musky scent of heather and sex enveloped her.

Her mouth watered for a taste of him. Anticipation, hot and
urgent, pulsed in her veins. Her pussy clenched and cream spilled from between
her lips. She remembered his silken column on her tongue in their dreams. Damn,
she wanted it. Needed it.

Settling on her heels, Tamar fisted his cock. A long,
tortured moan rolled from above her head as he bowed into her hand and gripped
the blankets beneath him. Even in the middle of passion he considered her,
avoided causing her pain by not tugging on her hair and irritating the cut on
her scalp.

Wow.
She blinked. He must be the only man on the
planet to be altruistic while receiving head.

She swiped the flat of her tongue over the swollen tip of
his cock that reminded her of a ripe peach. On a moan of pure delight, she
sucked him deep. Her lips stretched wide around the stalk of flesh that was
almost as thick as his wrist. She slid his cock deep into her mouth, pumping
the broad lower half with short, tight strokes.

“Tamar,” he gritted between clenched teeth. “Suck it,
sweetheart. Suck it harder for me.”

She hollowed her cheeks, giving him the suction he desired.
The taste of him exploded in her mouth. Like a summer breeze over the
ocean—warm, good, sweet with a touch of salt. She moaned, slid her tongue along
the underside of his cock while increasing the pull of her mouth. Inching
higher on her knees, she angled her head over the throbbing column and
swallowed another inch of him. The bulbous head nudged the back of her throat
and the narrow opening tightened. Hunger and determination overrode the reflex
and like in her dreams, Tamar relaxed, breathed through her nose and allowed
the tip of his cock head to enter her throat passage.

A raw, primitive growl that was nowhere near human rumbled
from him and reverberated through the room. Something just as old awakened
inside her, lifted its head and reached out toward that sound—as if a strange
being inhabited her body and had been hibernating until the moment he’d called
it to life. Her mouth slackened for a moment and a sliver of fear pierced her
heavy haze of desire.

But as quickly as it appeared, the weird, unsettling
sensation vanished as if it had never been. She lifted her head, pressed a kiss
to the gleaming slitted tip. Her gaze traveled up the long, tense length of
Nicolai and lust slammed into her with the force of a freight train. His large
body arched like a tautly strung bow, head thrown back against the blankets.
Tendons corded his neck, bulging under his skin.

Jesus, he was amazing. A primal, magnificent beast whether
in man or hippogryph form.

Need tore through her, the sight of him as arousing as the
pulsing cock in her hand. She captured his sac in one hand and squeezed the
widest, thickest part of his shaft near the base. Another of those growls
roared in the air and her pussy responded with a flex and a spurt of cream that
coated her lips.