Night Angel

by Renee Reeves

  She needed this. She needed him.

  She shook her head, twining her arms around his neck and cupping the back of his head for balance.

  Have some guts, Morgan. Women do this all the time and according to the romance books they love it. Her fingers tunneled into the short hairs at the back of his neck. The feel of it against her palm was amazing, coarse and soft at the same time; the short black bristles tickled her hand, sending goosebumps running up and down her arms. Even her breasts responded, becoming fuller, heavier, her nipples stiff and tight. Ready for him.

  Desire and anxiety battled for supremacy inside her. Nick was still holding her high against him, waiting and watching her with a softness in his eyes she hadn't seen before and she knew that if she even hinted at stopping he would. Like a soft summer breeze her anxiety drifted away and desire cloaked her body.

  "I need this Nick,” she said softly, “I need to feel something different than what I've been feeling for six years. And I need it with you."

  Urging his head down she kissed him.

  * * * *

  Nick hugged her to him, barely able to control his trembling as he returned her shy kiss, softly at first. But then, when he felt her shivery response and heard her soft moan, he took her mouth harder, deeper, thrusting his tongue between her parted lips to explore the velvety softness inside, sipping at the sweet, peachy nectar that was all her.

  This was what he had dreamed of and he was damned well going to make it good for her.

  Keeping contact with her mouth he located the bed. Situated across the room it was a feminine, frilly-looking thing completely decked out with virginal white lace and yellow butterflies. Like Morgan, it was the picture of sweetness. Innocently sexy and twice the turn-on as anything he had experienced in his life.

  His cock hardened, feeling about the size of a baseball bat.

  He hated having to leave her mouth but if he didn't he'd have her shoved up against the wall with her legs wrapped around his waist before either of them realized what had happened. A fine prospect for later, but not for her first time with him. He broke the kiss; she sighed, snuggling her face into the side of his neck again. Her tongue, warm and wet, slowly licked up the side of his throat, teasing the thick vein there. He winced, assaulted by a small but sharp pain, then grinned. She had nipped him. His cock, already iron hard, jerked in pleased response.

  That was good, he thought, that was damn good. If he could keep her relaxed enough maybe she'd bite him again.

  Her mouth moved tenderly against his skin, right over the spot she had just abused, “Sorry...” she whispered, “But your skin smells so good ... I've never ... I just had to see what you tasted like."

  He adjusted her, brought his mouth down to hers for a sweet kiss, torn between fury at what she had been through before him, and tenderness because of how innocent she was even with her past.

  Holding her full weight with one arm he ripped back the delicate white lace comforter with more force than necessary. “Don't ever apologize for wanting to touch me. In fact I'll expect it; often and as much as you want,” he said, laying her down sideways across the yellow butterfly print sheets and bracing himself above her with a fist on either side of her head, “Besides sweetheart...” he grinned and winked at her, “in less than five minutes I plan to be eating you alive."

  Her eyes got huge, her mouth opening on a silent gasp and he knew she hadn't even considered that possibility. Fast as lightening he wrenched his shirt off.

  Grasping her hands in his, Nick slid her arms up until they were pinned above her head, and then slowly lowered his torso to hers. Their bodies connected and she stiffened in uncertainty, beginning to pull against his hold. Shushing her he used his thumbs to rub soothing circles in the middle of her palm and over her wrists while raining kisses over her cheeks, along her jaw and finally capturing her mouth. She writhed against him, whimpering into his mouth, but he kept his exploration leisurely and soft, not forceful or hurried. Sliding his tongue inside he sparred with hers, patiently teaching her the intricate art of French kissing. He released her wrists and tangled his hands in her hair, cupping and massaging the back of her head. Tenderness flooded him when he pulled back and she impatiently raised her head, trying to catch his lips again.

  "Slow down sweetheart,” he teased, “there's no rush.” He licked her bottom lip while his blood belied his words, pumping harshly through his veins in a primitive surge that threatened to make him forget about going slow, urging him to spread her legs and pump himself to oblivion.

  He felt her small hands run up his sides to tightly grip the back of his biceps and he reined his urges in. This was Morgan, not some bar-whore, and he reminded himself that she had been wounded both physically and mentally but was now lying beneath him, trusting him with her body.

  She clutched at his shoulders and obligingly he lowered himself to kiss her again, more forcefully this time while still keeping tight control, not wanting to ruin this experience for her by moving too fast. Moments like this and unexpected innocence like hers were special and to be savored, not conquered. Hell, he'd lay here and just kiss her all night if that's what she wanted.

  Her needs were first and foremost.

  His cock screamed in protest, wanting to be inside her now.

  Nick ignored it, easing back and raising his head. She was panting, her eyes closed tightly, mouth swollen from his rough kisses; the fragile column of her throat was arched, submissively bared for him. He kissed it, felt her swallow.

  Yeah, he had to make this all about her. She deserved nothing less.

  "Look at me.” He punctuated the command with a tender kiss and angled his hips, nudging his arousal into her soft stomach for the first time. She gasped, eyes flying open to stare directly into his.

  God, he could drown in those liquid gold depths and die a happy man. “I want you to know exactly who you're with, not who your mind is remembering."

  "I'm not remem—” He nudged her again, lower this time and used a circular motion that made her moan. “Nick...” His name came out as a breathy exhalation. Her fingers flexed on his biceps, slipped, and then gripped again.

  Damn these clothes ... “That's right.” He flexed his hips again, “Say it again."

  No way were her demons going to insinuate themselves between them this time.

  "Nick."

  He hummed his approval against her skin, kissing his way down the smooth column of her throat to the neck of her t-shirt. He frowned at the barricade of grey fabric, irritated that his progress had been halted but cornered the urge to shred it down the middle. Instead he shifted his weight and, using his free hand, smoothed his palm down her side to the bottom of the shirt and snaked his hand inside. She let out a small, choked sound and the silky, warm skin of her belly quivered beneath his touch, making him wonder if her bastard husband had ever taken the time to touch her other than to hit her.

  "Shhh ... remember it's just me, sweetheart, no one who wants to hurt you."

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  Chapter 19

  He kissed her lips, tenderly, worshipfully, absorbing her nervous little pants into his mouth while caressing his way up her ribcage. His fingers met the soft underside of her thin, lacy bra and he covered one breast with his palm. Instantly her nipple stiffened and he brushed his thumb back and forth over it, alternating between lazy circles and sharp, flicking contact. She whimpered into his mouth and he paused, waiting until the sudden tension eased from her body before applying firm pressure to the eager tip.

  Oh ... sweet Jesus ... she was so soft, the feel of her breasts an ample treat for his greedy fingers ... He wanted his mouth on her, right now.

  Nick ground his teeth together. Control. If ever he needed it it was now.

  He put his mouth against her ear, fingers still tormenting the tender bud. “Your skin is so damned soft ... Tell me what you want, sweetheart. What you like."

  She bit her lip, made a small helpless sound and hid her
face against his chest. “I don't—I don't know.” It ended as a frustrated cry, her hands clenching and unclenching against the muscles in his shoulders. He leaned down and kissed the flushed curve of her cheek soothingly. Of course she didn't know what she liked.

  She'd always been taken, never served.

  That made her as close to a virgin as Nick had ever gotten.

  His cock hardened even more, a rigid length of steel threatening to bust through the denim of his jeans if he didn't do something about it soon.

  "It's all right.” He pressed his lips to the shallow indentation between her collarbones where her pulse kicked madly. Nibbling his way up her throat to her ear he distracted her long enough to slide his hand from under her shirt to the waistband of her shorts where he flicked open the button that held them closed.

  The zipper followed suit, sliding down smoothly and easily. He caught a glimpse of baby-fine skin and creamy lace panties and swallowed hard, reminding himself of his earlier oath to go slow.

  In a voice so deep he barely recognized it he said, “I'll take care of you. You don't have to do anything.” Giving her a brief hard kiss he slid down her body, going to his knees beside the bed.

  "Wait! What are you...?"

  "Shush ... let me...” He broke off, distracted by the smooth skin of her bare calves. Christ ... Even her ankles were beautiful. Kissing and stroking his way up her legs he waited until she was once again relaxed and gasping for breath, then grasped the hem of her shorts and pulled them down her legs. Her arms shot out, small hands frantically grabbing at the material.

  He stopped pulling and gazed at her. “Are we stopping?"

  She bit her lip and her hands clenched on the fabric. “Um ... you—"

  He cut her off. “This isn't about me. Not this time.” He slid his hands up and covered her fists where they bunched on the material of her shorts. Softly he asked again, “Are we stopping?” She quivered and their eyes locked. The tip of her tongue came out to caress her bottom lip. Gazing at her, at the flushed well-loved woman look on her face Nick knew he could stop if she said so, but the knowledge that he might actually have to felt like a fate worse than death.

  Her “no” was no more than a breath of sound, yet the word rang loud and clear in Nick's ears. He flashed her a grin, then kissed her thigh before slowly tugging her shorts down her legs. As each smooth inch of her upper thighs was finally bared to him Nick felt his mouth going dry. One final tug and the shorts came off. He tossed them over his shoulder, not caring where they landed, completely focused on the near nude woman laid out like a sacrifice before him. Starting at her ankles Nick ran his hands up the insides of her legs, using firm pressure to part them as he went. Her thighs spread wide and Morgan let out a small, embarrassed cry, immediately trying to shield herself from his view.

  "Oh no, sweet,” he said, taking a wrist in each hand and gently pressing her hands into the bed at her sides. “I can't allow that."

  He wedged his chest between her knees, spreading her thighs wide, then leaned down and pressed his open mouth to her soft belly.

  "The view from here is too beautiful."

  * * * *

  Morgan let her head fall back onto the mattress with a moan, unable to think of anything except the extraordinary feel of his warm, wet mouth moving lazily across her stomach. She should be afraid, wary at least with her hands still trapped at her sides by a half-naked man who was twice her size, but ... oh ... um ... Her brain froze while his tongue swirled around her belly button. His breath, warm and moist, tickled her skin. The light rasping of his tongue stirred already oversensitized nerves, making her skin tingle and her loins tighten excruciatingly. Morgan's stomach quivered and she drew in a deep breath as her hips jerked, reacting to each sweeping lick of his tongue. She groaned, squirming against him, wanting ... no needing him to move lower...

  Ohh ... that felt so good.

  She must have said it out loud because she felt him smile against her skin and then he said, “I'm going to let go of your hands, but unless I scare you I want them out of my way. Okay?"

  He rubbed his bristly jaw along her side and over the sensitive skin covering her ribs, then nuzzled the underside of one breast through her bra. Her nipples, already tight, hardened even more, almost to the point of pain. Nick's rough jaw brushed lightly over one peak, sending sparks throughout her swollen breast and shattering her thought process.

  "Morgan?"

  Unable to form a coherent reply she drew in a great breath of air and nodded.

  Nick leaned over her, brushed a featherlight kiss along her jaw and then let her go. Morgan fisted her hands in the sheets, uncertain what to do with them while he pushed her shirt out of the way and nuzzled her skin, whispering reassurances against her flesh as he eased the cups of her bra down, baring her nipples. Growling ‘easy’ low in his throat he sucked one engorged nipple into his mouth. Morgan felt the sharp edge of his teeth grip her, then the soft flicking of his tongue on the tip. Even as heat seared through her veins she froze, barely breathing as memories of another mouth on her breast, this one cruel and hurtful, rushed to the forefront of her mind: Richard, biting her hard enough to make her bleed and then laughing as she screamed.

  No. She made a noise low in her throat and reached up to push Nick's head away.

  "Just me Morgan.” Nick's thumb caressed her cheek, “No one else."

  Yes ... this was Nick, and his mouth was tasting her so slowly, his lips suckling, pulling at her tingling nipples until they were red and throbbing. He let her nipple pop out of his mouth and she breathed a sigh of relief as the sensual torment was removed, only to have him grin and suck the exquisitely sensitized tip back into the warmth of his mouth. His tongue played, circling around her areola. She felt the edge of his teeth rim her nipple, then a sharp pain as he briefly bit her. She whimpered slightly and her hands clenched on his skin. He shushed her and then the soothing softness of his tongue and lips was easing the sting away. Morgan moaned, bowing her back off the bed and urging his head closer to her breast. He obliged, licking long and slowly, sometimes taking almost her whole breast in his mouth and tasting her as if she were a rare dessert to be savored.

  To ensure herself that it really was Nick and not her mind playing a cruel trick she ran her hands up his sides, feeling the heavy bands of muscle and mile wide shoulders. His purr of approval vibrated through her skin and, gasping, she lifted her head, watching as his dark head moved to her other breast, lavishing it with the same thorough attention.

  Now his large hands were squeezing her breasts together, plumping the firm mounds, nipping at the soft undersides with his teeth. She tensed, expecting the sharp needlelike pricks of pain she was used to, but instead of pain sharp jolts of pleasure raced up her spine. Bowing her back off the bed and lifting her breasts towards Nick. she moaned, lost in the blind need of her blood pumping, impatient to have her body against his, his hands and mouth on her—everywhere.

  "Shit,” his voice was muffled against her flesh, “you drive me so fucking crazy."

  His voice, harsh and layered with sensual craving, only added to her torment. Then he was rubbing his face against her, using the bristly surface of his jaw against her sensitive nipples and laving away the slight burn with his tongue, alternating between gentleness and roughness, setting her on fire from top to bottom. Her clit throbbed painfully, and she could feel wetness gathering between her thighs, dampening the bed underneath her butt. Her vaginal muscles clenched, making her cry out as heavy need spiked inside her. She tossed her head back and forth on the bed, aching with the need that Nick was fueling within her body.

  "Nick!” She twisted under him, scissoring her legs apart.

  "I-I need ... I want...” Trembling she clutched him to her, trying to use her body to communicate her desire.

  "You need to cum,” he stated, using his wicked mouth on her again. “And I want to make you cum.” His lips brushed her swollen nipple as he spoke, driving her higher and higher with ea
ch deliberate word. “I want you wide open, my mouth on your cunt, my tongue inside you where I can lick and feel every sweet part of you until you're dripping honey down my throat."

  "Oh ... God.” The unexpected image of Nick with his head down there was so erotic that her breath caught in her throat and she arched against him, pleading, her body needing ... what? “Nick."

  "Hang on sweetheart, I'm about to make you feel very good.” With barely a reprieve he started nibbling his way down her stomach, across to each hipbone and then lower, his rough jaw grazing the line of her pubic hair. Morgan felt him nuzzle her with his nose and sucked in a deep breath.

  Surely he couldn't really mean to...

  Out of breath and embarrassed she dug her nails into his back, trying to drag him back up. Before she could draw breath to protest he had shoved her legs up and draped them over his shoulders. Nick's hot wet breath wafted over her and the smooth, firm tip of his tongue briefly touched her exposed nub in a firm caress. Shockwaves of tight, focused pleasure bolted through her vagina and she shrieked, heaving under him, but he only gripped her thighs tighter and pushed his face closer, sliding his tongue deep inside of her, burning her sensitive inner tissues with each gentle thrust. Her breathing froze, centered on the strange feel of his tongue moving inside her, licking and rubbing against her inner walls. Her core pulsed and she felt herself tightening around him. Against her will she began to rotate her hips, arching her aching center against mouth.

  "Nick!” she wailed. “No ... I-I can't...” Oh God! His tongue lapped, twisting and tickling around her clit, building stroke upon stroke of need.

  With his mouth wide open around her, his rough beard bristles teasing her soft folds, he mumbled, “Oh yes ... you can."

  Morgan's mind went blank, her whole focus centered on the searing, burning waves of heat caused by Nick's tongue.

  Richard had never, ever done this, had never even attempted...