The Nightingale Trilogy: An Alpha Billionaire Romantic Suspense

by Cynthia Dane

  With a mighty growl, Vincent pulled her hips onto him while his other hand clutched her shoulder. He rode her, his movements steady enough to lull Nala into a sweet rhythm. She continued to float in her mind, her words leaving her for the first time in minutes as she gave herself over to the endless expanse of space.

  They were both wordless now, the only sounds leaving their lips being exclamations and formless groans. Nala released the tension in her body; Vincent began to swell within her. With any luck, they would climax together, ending this scene and bringing them back to reality.

  Nala would welcome that, but Vincent had other plans.

  “What are you Nala?” he shouted, driving into her so quickly that she cried in surprise. “What the fuck are you?”

  So overwhelmed by her rising orgasm, his barrages, and the sheer amount of power flowing from him to her… how could Nala find any way to respond? She was ready to spit her usual response, but that dirty word was not what came from her heart, the sudden understanding of what Vincent really thought of her this whole time.

  “I’m your girlfriend!” she cried, his hands all over her as both Vincent and their bed made love to her. “Holy shit, I’m your girlfriend!”

  Siren, succubus, foolish 21-year-old girl. None of those identities mattered when Vincent surged inside her, his mouth coming for the back of her neck and teeth clamping hard against her skin. Nala screamed, her climax exploding within and turning her into a trembling, tightening mess beneath Vincent’s beastly body.

  He was everywhere. On her. Beside her. Beneath her. Within her. Nala couldn’t escape into the chasm of the stars even if she wanted to. Vincent held her back, leaving every mark, every claim to her that he knew of.

  He bit her. He scratched her. And by fucking hell he unleashed himself within her, his liquid heat emptying in her with the most hypnotic pulses of his cock. Nala gasped, unable to move, but also not wanting to.

  Vincent clenched her stomach and continued to suck the skin of her throat, his hips stilling his cock inside her. Nala couldn’t have gotten away from it if she wanted to. I don’t! Just when she thought the moment was over and Vincent was finished, he spared her two more releases of his cock, his seed spreading within her and making sure Nala knew that she was the only one who got to feel something as amazing as this.

  She felt both like a creature and a woman. The creature accepted its fate, claimed by the hunter, but the woman moaned in relief, her body more than a vessel for this man’s pleasure. He was sharing the most intimate part of himself with her. Not merely his climax, but the ensuing flood of emotions that came with it.

  His joy, his heart was hers, even if only for this moment.

  When the pressure finally lifted from her body, Nala whimpered. All things had to end, though, including their unconventional lovemaking.

  “Please don’t leave me,” she whispered, afraid to feel him pull out. “You went through all that trouble to get in there and share yourself with me. Why leave now?”

  “Who said I was leaving?” Although gruff, there was tenderness in his voice as he lightly kissed her throat and shoulders, hand brushing away her hair and cock softening within her. “Don’t underestimate me, darling. I’m happy where I am.”

  “Am I too tight?”

  He untied the strips holding her arms up. Relief flooded them as they, and her torso, were allowed to fall into the pillow. Vincent rubbed her sides and ass as he moved within her. “No. You get hung up on the strangest things.”

  She waited for him to untie her knees. That didn’t happen for another minute, and it was such a slow undertaking that she wondered if he was prolonging it so it would be easier to stay so deep inside of her. For the moment her knees were free, they naturally sank toward one another, and Vincent had to quickly pull out before she fell off him instead.

  Oh my God, I am dead. That was when the fatigue hit her, a breath of fresh air if she were telling the truth. Sleep would be easy after the perfect day.

  She thought she would be left to lie and feel him spill from her body. Instead, Vincent rolled her over and stuck two thick fingers inside her as her legs spread wide, giving him access.

  This wasn’t sexual. This was him asserting the last bit of authority he had over her.

  “What are you trying to do?” Nala asked, eyelids heavy. Vincent propped himself up on his elbow next to her, his face near hers as his fingers stayed inside her, keeping him inside her. “Impregnate me? Good luck. I’m on the pill.”

  “No. I’m not trying to do that.” Vincent kissed her forehead, fingers slowly circling within her. What would usually be sexual pleasure was now a mere conduit for his affection. “I’m making you think about to whom you belong. Close your eyes.”

  That wasn’t hard to obey. Nala let her eyelids droop as she sank deep within their bed. His intimate touch lulled her into a doze, and knowing he was right there watching her made Nala feel safer than ever. Yes, she could feel his essence within her, trapped, like she had been a few minutes before.

  I’m trapping it. He trapped my body, he marked it with his essence, but I’m the one trapping that inside of me. It’s mine. All mine.

  “I belong to you,” she muttered, indulging in his warmth. “But you belong to me too.”

  “Yes, darling.” His words were the last thing she heard that night. “It goes both ways.”

  As she fell asleep that night, Nala knew that everything would be different when she opened her eyes again.

  Entry #14

  I don’t need to write down what happened tonight between me and Nightingale. If I have no other memories of my life, I will have this, at least.

  She is my girlfriend now. I have no choice but to protect her with every ounce of my being.

  I am elated. But I am also more fearful than ever. For now, I will forget my fears and focus on rebuilding any shred of happiness I can reach out and grasp within my hand. At the moment, that means Nightingale.

  Chapter 15

  The day Nala received her super-expedited passport was the day she and Vincent received a very apologetic letter from Xavier Crow informing them that the trip to Cancun had to be canceled “for personal reasons.” Instead, he invited his club members to join him on his ranch down south for the weekend.

  This wasn’t what surprised Nala the most. What did was the transportation Vincent arranged to take them down near Salem. Well, he didn’t arrange it. He merely announced that they would be sharing a car with Lucian and Robin, their two designated buddies in the club.

  While this suited Vincent fine since it meant he didn’t have to drive, Nala was more anxious than usual. Usually her time in the car before a club meeting was when she put her game face on and got into the headspace of Nightingale. Being picked up in a stretch limo with Robin already shrieking and Lucian making one bawdy joke after another meant she had to be “on” from the moment she stepped out of Vincent’s loft, wearing a brand new outfit from him: a knee-length A-line dress with a faux-fur coat that made her look like a puffy blackbird as opposed to a nightingale.

  She and Vincent climbed into the modest limo – if there was such a thing – before hauling ass out of town to the tune of laughter and a champagne bottle popping.

  It was almost too much energy for her to handle. Robin and Lucian were a loud couple when left to their own devices. Their voices naturally carried, especially in such a small space, and their movements clacked, clanged, and banged as if they were giants tearing through a village. Vincent looked completely unfazed as he leaned back in his seat. He looks too casual for this. Since they would be outside on a ranch, the men were asked to mind anything too formal or likely to get dirty. So Vincent wore one of his pairs of business trousers and a linen shirt beneath a typical PNW jacket. All very nice and formal enough for a play date outdoors, but a far cry from the formal suits he usually wore to Aviary meetings.

  Nala had to look away from him multiple times that evening. Things are both so awesome and so weird right no
w. Ever since their incredibly passionate night, they had barely said more than was necessary to one another – although this did include the occasional words of affection and light, playful admonishments. Vincent made a move one night to feel up Nala’s breasts while they watched TV, but she gently turned him down, citing terrible, crampy PMS. Sure enough, the red demon slashed her insides open the next day. Nothing more than light pats on the ass while passing one another in the kitchen or brushing teeth together after that.

  Yet Nala understood that there was a fundamental change between them. They may have kept to themselves, but the air was different. Vincent was much more relaxed around her. He spoiled her with her favorite foods and let her decide what video games they played and what movies they watched, whether he felt like doing them or not. Because I’m his girlfriend now. They never discussed it after the fact. As Nala came to understand, they were the type of couple who didn’t use words to communicate much. Between Nala’s monthly maladies and Vincent diving head-first into a new project at work, they didn’t see that much of each other anyway.

  This was the first time, however, they were in a more public situation. Sure, Lucian and Robin already thought of them as an established couple, but Nala wasn’t lying anymore. She really was Vincent’s girlfriend, and she had no idea what to do.

  At first she relied on what she knew Nightingale would do, such as offer to pour him champagne in a moving vehicle, but soon there was nothing else she could do. Nightingale wasn’t overly affectionate. Neither was Nala, although by the time they were on the freeway heading south, she felt the extreme urge to reach across the seat between them and touch that fine lining beneath his jacket.

  Nobody said anything – other than continuing Lucian and Vincent’s conversation about the Timbers – as Nala lost her seatbelt and climbed into Vincent’s sideways embrace. This is so weird! She was genuinely happy to be there, against his body, and taking refuge in the safety he offered. But it was weird having Robin nudge her boyfriend with a new giggle on her lips.

  Is this really so bad? Nala wasn’t happy about where they were going or who they would see, but in the precious hour or so it took them to get to Crow’s private ranch, she was able to relax and be in the company of her boyfriend and their friends. These aren’t bad people. They’re a bit much, but they’re playing a game like we are. Lucian had a tendency to take his jokes too far, and Robin had the most annoying laugh in the universe, but they were genuine to a fault. Even when they grew serious enough to apologize for trying to drunkenly start an orgy the last time they all met, Nala could tell that they really were embarrassed. I wonder if we would go for it now? Sometimes a girl still remembered the way Lucian could fuck his woman. I mean, if Crow is gonna make my boyfriend and I swap with someone… Might as well be these sexy fools.

  The more she loosened up, drank some champagne, and laughed at tasteless jokes, the more Nala felt like a normal girl. Someone who went out with her boyfriend. Someone who had friends and wasn’t afraid to be herself around… and someone who was happy.

  The way Vincent danced his fingers upon her throat as they went down the freeway made her shiver. The way he kissed her when he didn’t think anyone was looking was exhilarating – and then embarrassing, because Robin shrieked and told her boyfriend to kiss her like that.

  It was the greatest shame that the good feelings eventually had to come to an end, and not for natural reasons, but because they arrived at the ranch. The driver opened the doors to reveal a bright, clear night with few chills. Nala still hugged her coat to her body as Vincent put an arm around her and led her to the ranch house, where the surly butler pointed them to the party happening out back.

  Whoever threw Crow’s parties needed a raise. Beautiful white Christmas lights lined the large open space; cushy chairs and carefully laid out tables full of candles and snacks awaited them. Music played from small speakers while warm breezes flitted through. Best of all, Xavier Crow was nowhere to be seen. While more guests arrived, the butler informed them that their host would be late “due to personal reasons,” and for them to enjoy the three courses of supper without him.

  It was like any other dinner party without that man around. Some people Nala liked more than others, but for the most part she was able to relax and enjoy the roast brought out for them to savor. Without Crow around to inspect their every move, Nala noticed that some behaviors changed. The only women going out of their way to coddle their men were Quail and Robin, and one was a lot quieter about it than the other. Maggie and Jay barely interacted, as if they detested each other. Starling and Joseph were painfully normal, with Starling whining and Joseph giving in to one demand after another. Nala and Vincent? They were the most publically lovey-dovey they had ever been before. Some people commented on it, but the only one who caught Nala’s eye was Maggie, who studied the way they acted as if she had to write a dissertation about it.

  During dessert, Nala caught a glimpse of a shadow in one of the ranch house windows.

  At first she ignored it, and then she looked again, realizing that the figure was none other than Xavier Crow surveying his dolls through a pair of opera glasses.

  “Vincent,” she hissed, lightly jabbing her elbow against his arm. “It’s him. It’s Crow. He’s watching us.”

  Vincent looked away from his conversation to snatch a quick look for himself. “He means business,” was all he muttered before going back to his dessert and laughing at a joke.

  Business, huh? What kind of business? This wasn’t the perch of a voyeur getting off. This was a man spying on them, looking for a wrong move, a wrong glance. Nala had to keep her eyes on her plate instead of meeting Crow head-on, hair bristling on her neck and heart racing like a hummingbird’s. The only things keeping her safe were Vincent beside her and the nightingale charm resting on her chest.

  Nala and Vincent were the only ones not surprised when Crow showed up a few minutes later, giving his apologies and brushing away any concerns the others had. He sat at the head of the table and thanked everyone for coming. His eyes lingered for a long, long time on Nala.

  What does he know? The amount of judgment shooting in her direction was unreal.

  “I still think you look very familiar, Miss Nightingale,” he said in a low voice as the dessert plates were taken away. “I know you insist that we have never met before you joining The Aviary, but my eyes know.”

  Nala tried to brush his comment off with a placating giggle, but neither she nor Crow believed it.

  Luckily, he dropped it after that, but Nala felt his watchful eyes on her all night, even when she buried her face in Vincent’s chest during a toast and acted like a kitten around Lucian. Her flirtations were subtle, but not unlike her – not too much. The more she stood in the wake of Xavier Crow, the more she realized he knew more than he let on.

  Does he know who I am? Nala broke away from Vincent to talk to Robin about absolutely nothing. Their laughter and sweet talk did nothing to drive Crow away. Is he going to do something to me?

  But Crow didn’t do much of anything there on his private, isolated ranch. Hell, he could have had them all killed with the rain of hellfire, and nobody would ever know. So why wasn’t he using this to his advantage? Did he cancel the trip to Cancun so he could bring them out here to the middle of nowhere and start things all over again?

  The shows began after everyone had enough time to digest dinner. Tables were cleared away so Lucian and Robin could properly demonstrate what happens when a woman’s aroused body was exposed to the outdoor elements – a lot of hardening, apparently. Starling and Joseph went as far as they usually did, and Vincent did not stop himself from rubbing the inside of Nala’s thigh and whispering in her ear that he would very much like to do some of that to her. Nala could not return his flirtations because she was too weirded out.

  Crow retired early, stating the usual “personal reasons.” He encouraged his guests to stay as late as they wanted, but warned that there weren’t many available rooms in
the ranch house. That was code for “go back to whence you came.” Nala looked forward to getting back into the limo and returning to Portland, but Lucian and Robin were… busy… very busy. So busy that Quail and Sebastian openly watched with haughty laughs threatening to burst from their lips over the absurdity of it all.

  Nala wanted to sit and wait for her friends to be done fucking so they could leave, but Vincent pulled her into his arms and covertly slipped her hand over his thighs, letting her feel his hardness.

  “Really?” she said. “Here? In front of these people? Tonight?” Nala was a lot more comfortable than she used to be, but she would hardly say she was comfortable. Especially after the way Crow was acting.

  “No. Not here. Come with me.”

  When nobody was watching, Vincent led Nala away from the after party, deep into the black and empty fields that probably never saw a bovine or sheep in their lives. On any other night, Nala would find her boyfriend lowering her to the soft grass and overtaking her beneath a blanket of twinkling stars the craziest thing ever. Except it didn’t feel crazy. The moment Vincent put his mouth on her and started moving clothing out of the way was the moment Nala realized he was doing this to take her mind off dark and terrible things.

  Probably himself as well.

  Nala never closed her eyes. She looked up into the real chasm of stars, feeling Vincent’s strong and sturdy body take her in the cold. Her skirt hiked above her hips. Her lingerie tore away to take his cock. Busts were pulled down so her breasts could welcome Vincent’s teeth and tongue. The only foreplay they needed was the rush this gave them. Nala didn’t cry out when he entered her, but she did breathe hard into his ear and raise her hips to meet his every thrust.

  Out there, in the wild, beneath the stars and with a cool breeze caressing her skin, Nala felt the freest a woman could possibly feel. Someone was always watching – that was the nature of this game, but she didn’t care. Let them all watch from afar. Let Xavier Crow peer out of his window with his opera glasses and watch two wild beasts go at it the old fashioned way.