Andi and Niro

by Gadziala, Jessica

  My hips slid against him, starting to move in slow, torturous circles, not quite giving me what I really needed, but easing a bit of the ache between my thighs.

  A low grumble moved through Niro as he leaned forward, hands grabbing the hem of my shirt, dragging it up, pinning it under my neck as his lips closed over my nipple without any barrier.

  A tremor moved through my body as his lips sucked, making my restless movements against him more demanding, more desperate.

  "Niro," I whimpered as his tongue started tracing lazy circles. "Please," I added, grinding down harder against him, seeking relief.

  The movement was so fast that I didn't get a chance to suck in my breath before I went from straddling him to pinned beneath him. Balancing on one arm, he yanked my shirt up further, pinning my arms, then trailing his lips down the column of my neck, my chest, back down to my breast.

  "I've waited for this for years. I'm taking my time," he told me before his lips closed around my other nipple, making me arch up into his mouth.

  He worked me until my nipples felt overheated, too sensitive, borderline painful, before his face slid between, his lips blazing a slow trail downward.

  I fought against my t-shirt, freeing my arms, sinking my fingers into his silky hair as his fingertips started inching my pants downward, urging my hips up to slide them down, pushing up to pull them off my ankles, leaving me in nothing but my underwhelming nude pink undies.

  But you'd have thought it was silky lingerie by the way his eyes heated, his breath caught.

  Before I could even enjoy his reaction, his body was moving downward, slipping between my thighs, and sealing his lips over my cleft through the barely-there material of my panties, making my body jolt violently at the unexpected contact, something that only made a rumbling noise move through him again as his tongue found my clit and started to work it. The soft friction of my panties created an unexpected, new sensation that blanked out everything but the feel of him but the way he was slowly, gently, but steadily driving me upward, forcing me toward that peak.

  But just when I was sure I was going to fall over the edge, he pulled back, resting his chin on my pelvic bone, smiling up at me when I whined.

  "Not yet," he said, shaking his head as he lifted up enough to slide my panties down, then kissing his way up my ankle, calf, knee, inner thigh, everywhere but where I needed him the most.

  Eventually, need overpowered any lingering shyness. My hand grabbed the back of his head, dragging him between my thighs. A small chuckle moved through him just a second before his tongue slid up my cleft. He worked my clit in slow, light circles as his hand slid between, tapping against the entrance to my body without pressing in for several torturous moments before, without any warning, they surged inside, making my back arch, my hips jolt up, my fingers to sink into his skull as a strange, animalistic moan escaped me.

  An approving sound vibrated through Niro and against my clit as his fingers started to thrust, slowly, lazily at first, then faster as my body urged him on. My hips ground against him with shameless abandon as my whimpers became loud moans.

  "No," I cried out when he pulled away just as suddenly as he had the first time, right before the waves could crest through my system.

  "I need to feel you come," he told me, voice rough as he sat back on his heels, reaching up to pull off his shirt, fetching a condom out of his wallet, then started to undo his pants.

  That movement seemed to snap me out of my own selfish needs, reminding me there was more to be enjoyed than a quick orgasm.

  I'd never get my first chance to explore his body again. I didn't want to waste it.

  I moved to sit up, brushing his hands away, working his button and zipper free myself, then sliding out from under him to start slipping his pants down. Then, greedy for more, going back for his boxers as well.

  My gaze slid up to his, seeing him watching me with an intense sort of focus.

  "Sit," I urged, pushing him back toward the cushions so I could move to straddle him once again, sealing my lips over his until mine felt swollen and tingly again, then blazing a path downward. Across his jaw, his neck, his collarbone, down the center of his chest.

  "Andi..." he said, the sound a pained plead, as I scooted lower, slipping between his legs, to continue my path down. Between his abs, feeling the muscles twitch as my lips and tongue traced over them.

  One of Niro's hands slipped up my shoulder, then the side of my neck, fingertips bruising in for the barest of seconds before landing on the back of my neck—a steady, firm pressure, but not urging me lower. It wasn't like I needed urging anyway.

  Moving to kneel on the floor, my hand slid to his hard length, closing around it. At the sharp intake of his breath, my gaze slid upward, watching him watch me as I leaned forward, running my tongue over the heat, finding myself fascinated by the ticking muscle in his jaw, his fingertips clenching at the back of my neck, his hips gently thrusting upward into my mouth.

  I wanted to watch him.

  But I wanted to give him a hint of what he'd given me a little bit more.

  I worked him the same way he'd done me. Unhurried, almost a little lazily, driving him up slowly.

  His fingers shifted up into my hair, curling, but letting me lead as his breath got harder, faster, as quiet groaning sounds escaped him.

  "Andi..." he growled, voice tight. "Andi, wait..." he tried, letting out a shaky breath. "Baby, stop," he demanded, yanking on my hair until he slipped out of my mouth.

  Taking a deep breath, his hand slid from my hair to my jaw, his thumb tracing over my swollen lower lip for a moment before reaching for me, drawing me back on his lap, then sealing his lips over mine once again.

  It wasn't long until my own need overtook me, making me shift my hips until his hard length pressed against my cleft.

  A shudder coursed through me as Niro pulled back, watching me slide against him for a moment before fetching the condom, reaching between us to secure it, then slipping his hand up my thigh to settle on my hip, urging me upward.

  There was something mingling with the need in my core, something coiled and undeniable, as I rose up, as I felt the tip of him press against me, as he started to slip inside.

  A rightness.

  A soul-level rightness that I couldn't have known existed, something I'd never experienced with a man before.

  Niro's breath shuddered out of him as my hips dropped on his lap again, as he was buried deeply inside.

  "Niro..." I started, not sure what to say, but needing to share the moment, to understand it, to see if he was feeling it too.

  "I know," he said, giving me a tight nod. "I know," he added again, pulling me forward, arm anchoring around me as he started to thrust upward.

  Slow.

  Explorative.

  But then harder, faster, as we both started to get driven up.

  My hands curled into his shoulders as his fingers sank into my backside, using it to slam me up and down on his length, forcing me to take every last inch of him as he continued to thrust.

  "Lean back," Niro demanded softly, hands slipping from my butt, one sinking into my hip to steady me as I did as he commanded, the other slipping between my thighs, working my clit, even as the new position engaged another hidden spot inside.

  Within seconds, I felt myself at that edge again.

  "There," he mumbled under his breath, a small, satisfied smile pulling at his lips as my walls tightened around him. "Come," he demanded as his thumb pressed against my clit.

  And just like that, I did.

  Niro's arms grabbed for me as the waves crashed, making me lose my balance, starting to fall backward. Burying my face in his neck, I cried out the orgasm against his skin as his arms held me tight.

  I barely had a chance to draw in a deep breath before Niro was suddenly shifting, pushing me onto my back once again on the couch, his hands grabbing my legs, hauling them up on his shoulders.

  This time, when he started thrusting, there was
no gentleness, no self-restraint. He was working through years of frustration, of wanting but not believing he could ever have, that he would ever be worthy. His disbelief, his relief, it was the most engrossed I'd ever seen him, the most passionate I'd ever known a man to be.

  His hand slid between my thighs once more, driving me back up.

  "Niro," I called, reaching for him, pulling my legs from his shoulders, wrapping them around his back as my hands reached for his shoulders, urging him downward, having a strange impulse to feel the weight of him pressed to me.

  A low, rumbling moved through him as I pulled him down to me, wrapped him up with arms and legs.

  The desperation seemed to fall away once again as his lips claimed mine. Our bodies moved together, my hips rising to meet each of his thrusts.

  His lips ripped from mine.

  "Look at me," he commanded, voice breathless.

  My eyelids fluttered open to find him pressed back just far enough to watch my face as he drove me back to that edge and let me crash right over, crying out his name as I did, then following with me, his forehead pressing to mine as his body stiffened and jolted, as his voice hissed out my name like an oath, like a prayer answered.

  My heart swelled in my chest as his weight pressed down on me, his ragged breathing in my ear, his heartbeat against my breast.

  "You gotta let me up, baby," he said, a small laugh in his voice when, for the fourth time, he tried to pull against my all-limb embrace.

  "Nope," I decided, squeezing him tighter.

  To that, I got another chuckle, one that vibrated through him and into me before he leaned down and sank his teeth into my shoulder. The jolt of pain surprised me enough to release him, and he pulled back to sit on his heels before I could reach for him again. "Give me a minute," he demanded, climbing off the couch, heading toward the bathroom as I tried to talk my legs and arms and core into working together to get myself into a seated position.

  They did not cooperate.

  When Niro walked back out a moment later, still gloriously naked, head cocked to the side a bit, eyes warmer than I had seen them in years, I managed a shrug.

  "I've misplaced my bones and muscles," I informed him, getting rewarded with a laugh as he dropped down at my feet, reaching for me, drawing me up to tuck me at his side, legs draped over his waist, head nestled under his chin.

  "You know how we used to spend every Wednesday watching re-runs and eating tacos?" I asked after a long moment of enjoying the feel of his greedy hands gliding over my skin.

  "Yeah."

  "We totally should have been doing this instead," I decided, angling my head up at him to watch the smile spread.

  "What? And lose out on the years of misery and separation?" he asked, poking fun at himself. "Where's the fun in that?" he added, tucking my hair behind my ear.

  "What?" I asked when he winced.

  "I, ah, I don't remember doing this," he admitted, running his finger over my neck.

  "Oh, my God. Did you give me a hickey?" I asked, feeling my eyes go wide. "Like we're teenagers?" I added, thinking of literally everyone in my life who would see it and ask questions.

  "It's a bite mark," he admitted, trying for bashful, but looking quite pleased with himself.

  "Don't look all proud of yourself for branding me," I told him, giving him small eyes even if I liked the idea a heck of a lot more than I should have.

  "Can't help it," he said, shrugging. "But I can try for more discreet locations in the future," he added, making my stomach wobble at the idea of getting more.

  "That would be appreciated," I decided, leaning forward, snuggling back into his neck.

  "Tired, huh?" he asked, fingertips starting to trace up my spine, sifting into my hair, seeming fascinated by the texture as he ran his fingers through the strands over and over.

  "I haven't been sleeping," I admitted. My brain had been such an ugly place. My thoughts refused to settle, to let me relax. Even when I managed, the nightmares woke me up with screams caught in my throat.

  There were memories of the shootout, somehow my subconscious remembering it all in much more vivid detail. The colors amplified. The blood. God, the blood was so red. When I looked down, I could see it covering my hands, streaked across the front of my scrubs.

  But the worst dreams were the ones that could happen if I didn't do what I was told. Those dreams seemed to exist in their own world where time went horribly slow, leaving me trapped in the nightmare for what felt like hours or days as I watched little pieces of Niro get ripped off, his screams echoing through my brain.

  "You can rest now. We got it from here."

  "No," I said, jolting back. "No. You can't do anything. They're watching. They'll know," I insisted, panic rising up through my system, a firm hand around my throat, cutting off my air.

  "Andi, it's okay. We will deal with it."

  "You can't deal with it. He's... he said he would string you up and start cutting parts of you off while I watch, Niro. You can't let on that I told you anything."

  "If they're watching, they've already seen me come here today."

  "Yes, well, he will assume I am, you know, distracting you. He said if I keep distracting you with my..." I started, trailing off. I don't know why I struggled so much with curse words, having grown up around people who used them so liberally. But it had just never been my cup of tea. And I definitely couldn't say the ones that were about, you know, my anatomy. I didn't have Billie's confidence like that.

  "Pussy?" Niro asked, and I was convinced only doing so to get a rise out of me. And, darn him, he succeeded. The heat rushed to my cheeks and I knew the blush was one for the books.

  "Yeah."

  Niro took a deep breath, exhaling it so hard it made my hair dance around. "Look. No one is going to be able to pretend like this shit isn't happening, Andi. No one is going to stand by and let you get extorted or coerced or whatever the fuck legal term this shit is. That's not going to happen. It's not like I'm alone in this. We have the whole club. We have Hailstorm. No one is going to carve me up. You need to relax and let us handle it."

  He made it sound so easy.

  But I had grown up in the club just like he had.

  I'd been there through the street wars, through every major and minor brush with new and old enemies. I knew that no matter how prepared the Henchmen had always been, that sometimes people got hurt. Really hurt.

  "If it makes you feel better," he started, scooting to the side a bit so he could watch me as he spoke, "this isn't going to be on you. If we have to take them out, it's not because of you. It's because we can't have a violent cartel running around and threatening our people. We can't risk that."

  He was right. Of course he was. Them being out there was an ever-present threat not only to Niro and me and my parents and even Hope, but everyone else we were related to who tried to get in their way.

  "I know," I agreed, letting out a deep breath.

  "We can—" he started, but I never got to know what he was going to suggest because one moment, we were just sitting there, having a conversation. And then the next, the door was flying open and, of all people, Hope and Billie were bursting in.

  "Oh for the love of all that is holy," Hope gasped, turning on her heel as she tucked her gun away. "Yep. You're both naked," she added, sounding choked. "I, ah, I hadn't mentally prepared for that possibility."

  "It's fine!" Billie insisted, waving a hand around casually. "The body is beautiful. We don't mind at all," she said, but I swore I could hear Hope declare under her breath Yes, yes we do. "So how was the lovemaking?" she asked. "Or were you fucking?" she rushed to add. "They're both valid forms of self-expression," she explained, nodding. "There's a time and place for each."

  "Jesus Christ, Billie, get the fuck out," Niro demanded, reaching for the blanket over the back of the couch, draping it over my body since I was mostly draped over him. He was still very exposed, but I was covering his important parts.

  "Gee. Excuse us
for trying to make sure everyone was safe and accounted for," Hope grumbled. "So, what am I supposed to report back to the parentals?" she asked. "Oh, they're fine. They were just playing a few rounds of hide the salami, that's why they weren't answering the phone."

  "Shit," Niro hissed, folding forward to grab his pants, fishing his cell out of the pocket. Before he swiped it open, I saw the notifications. Twenty missed calls.

  "Can I suggest some, you know, clothing?" Hope asked. "Since like our cousins and uncles and shit are downstairs and if we are up here too long, they're all going to burst in and this is going to get even more awkward."

  "There is nothing awkward about this," Billie insisted. "Hope needs to work through some of her more prudish thought blocks instilled upon her by the patriarchal society that shuns women who fully embrace our sexuality and makes—"

  "Yes, yes. We get it, Billie. You're the hippie sex goddess," Hope declared, shoving her sideways toward the door, nearly falling over my shoes I'd kicked off earlier. "We will be outside the door. Pack a bag," she added.

  "A bag, why?" I asked.

  "Because they decided to push the red button. So all our asses are at Hailstorm or locked down at the clubhouse and shit."

  And with that, we were alone again.

  "How long until everyone knows we were naked in here together?" Niro asked, sounding pained.

  "Depends on how successful Hope is in negotiating Billie's silence."

  "Let's put our money on Hope then," he decided, sliding out from under me, reaching for his boxers and pants, jumping into them. "Hey," he said as he reached to grab his shirt, looking at me with pinched brows. "I'm not trying to keep it a secret," he said, reading me too well. "I just don't think that is the best way for anyone to find out."

  That was fair.

  I really, really didn't want my parents and aunts and uncles knowing that during a pretty high-stress situation, we'd taken some time to pursue mutual orgasms.

  "Okay," I agreed, accepting my panties when he held them out to me, lips twitching. "What am I going to do about my neck?" I asked as I got up to grab my pants.

  "Say you got bit at work," he suggested, chuckling.