Tales from Arondell: Sodom - Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Nathanael Scarlett

Well, making her fall for me was easy. I press my cigarette to my lips and drag on it thoughtfully. A bit too easy. I take the paper roll from my mouth, ignoring the ash dangling from the end, and frown. Influencing her should've been harder than this.

Sighing, I shove my smoke back into my mouth and slip one hand under my head. The other, beneath the sheet, idly caresses Isabella's bare thigh.

She's sleeping peacefully, no doubt because I wore her out. Damn, I nearly wore myself out. I smirk and blow smoke at the canopy. My Dove's sweet breath feathers my shoulder, making my skin tingle, and her fingers touch my chest. They twitch as she dreams.

She's dreaming of me again. Hot. Steamy. Passionate, and this time I'm not the cause her erotic visions. Not like I have been in the past.

My cock stirs, tenting the black silk draped over me. Fuck, I want her, again and again, but it'd be wrong to wake her just for a quick shag.

I gaze at my Dove – my Gods she's so beautiful – and skim my knuckles across her cheek. She giggles in her sleep and burrows into me, nuzzling my armpit of all places, giving me no choice but to roll over. How else can I hold her properly?

We fit perfectly together, like she was made for me. Just like Lilli. Well, maybe not inside – Bella is too petite to take all of me – but everywhere else, she's exquisite. I'll need to do something about the pubic hair though.

Pausing to butt out my cigarette, I turn back to my Dove and run my fingers up and down her bare arm. Marvelling at the satin texture of her skin. Morpheus, I love everything about this woman!

Her wings quiver and I gently touch them, delineating the fragile membranes. They're so much like a rosebud, waiting for the right moment to bloom. I smile at her. It's amazing how much of her reminds me of delicate wild-flowers; all rarities in Sodom.

Isabella moans in her sleep, arching her back and rubbing her hard nipples against my side. My Gods. My heart races and my loins ache. If she keeps this up, I won't be able to control myself.  I know, it's wrong to feel this way, like I can't contain my need. I can't take advantage of her. In the least I should wait until Zae gets home, even though he's running late. But fuck, this isn't fair. I need her now!

So, abandoning my restraints I replace my fingers with my lips and caress the sensitive wing, from base to tip and back again. I leave no part of the trembling limb untouched.

The wings and the nerve-endings directly around them are an erotic hot-spot for people like us. I remember making Lilleah sopping wet every time I did this to her, and the first time she did it to me, well, I had an explosive happy ending. Before her, no one had ever touched me like that, and now... Now with nothing but scars and pain to prove my wings ever existed, not even Zae touches that part of me. I'd probably hit him, or worse if he did.

“Oooh, Nathanael.” My name rolls off Bella's tongue, sweet like wine, tugging at my heart and loins, and filling me with a joyous ache. I hesitate, my lips hovering inches from her wing tip. Is she awake?

“Please... Don't stop,” she whimpers.

That's all the confirmation I need.

“Dove,” I groan as I brand her with kisses, my lips sliding across her shoulder and stopping beneath her hair. I breathe in her scent. It's warm, familiar and intoxicating, making me harder than before. “I want you. Please, roll over.” I'm burning for you.

She does as she's told, quicker than I expect and presents her delectable ass to me. Oh, what a gorgeous sight that is, even beneath the tangled sheet.  

This is easy. Too easy. Alarm bells start ringing in my head, but why? I'm not doing anything wrong. She's giving herself to me... Ah, maybe it's because my Love likes his sleep, and he's never been this compliant when I wake him? Yes, that has to be it.

Kissing Bella's neck – she giggles into the pillow – I wrap my hand around my cock, and gently stroke it as I move into position behind her. Oh fuck... My organ leaks onto my fingers and throbs with intense pleasure. Fuck, this feels so good. But it'll feel better once I'm inside her.

Again I fear I won't last long – a disappointing fact – but as long as I enjoy her and she enjoys me, what difference does it make?

"I hope you're ready for me, Dove." Lifting her bottom up, I give her no chance to respond - in my mind or otherwise - and open her downy labia with my wet tip. Her puffy folds yield, coating me in her nectar, and in one sleek thrust I glide inside her.

“Oooh... My Dove!” The sensation almost overwhelms me, and I settle into a fast and desperate rhythm. Slapping her ass to alleviate the pleasure in my loins. Bad girl, Dove. You're a really fucking bad girl. Bestial grunts stream from my lips, almost in sync with her moaning and I smack her bottom again. She squeals in delight.

“Do you like it rough, Dove?” I pant. “Do you like it when I fuck you hard?” I must be daft. Of course she likes it rough! Why else would she let me tie her up? Why else would she let me manipulate her body, until she's putty in my hands?

I growl at my Dove – I can't contain my excitement a second longer – squeezing her lily-white cheeks as I pound into her. Milking her, because I'll be damned if I come first.

“Come for me, Dove. Spill your honey.”

The pillows muffle her moaning, but I know I'm doing something right. Her cries reach a crescendo and her greedy flower palpitates, dribbling all over me. Oh fuck yes! Good girl, Dove.

It's a wonderful feeling, knowing I can satisfy her without even trying. True, it's not all there is to love and intimacy. One's ability to give pleasure shouldn't be the only thing declaring him or her a good lover. But, it matters to me. I'm a sensitive man, and I've always prided myself on my skill and technique. I like to think that I can love and please Bella more than Zae.

“Nath-Nathanael...” Bella's shaky voice and her jerky movements drag me back to the present: To my Dove sliding back and forth upon my pole when I'm the one who takes control. But, damn, it's so... So... Good! Fuck, I'm going to burst!

“Oooh Dove...” My whole body jerks as I shoot my seed inside her, but I can't stop. The pleasure goes on and on, crashing over me, and dragging me down. “Keep... Keep going, my Dove... Oh, fuck! Yes!” My bellow rings throughout the room – quite possibly throughout the house – as I come again, harder than I ever have before.

By Morpheus, what on Arondell is happening to me?

“Uh... M-Master?” Zae's hesitant voice snaps me from my daze. I freeze mid-stroke and cling to Isabella. She's still trembling beneath me and raises her head from the pillow.

“Zaenack?” She croaks, sounding as stunned as I feel, among other things. Together we glance at the bedroom door. My Love's familiar silhouette blocks the portal.

My heart sinks and my cock wilts, spilling traces of semen as I slip from Bella's body. Shit. Now what?

For long moments, filled only with the sound of my harsh breathing and Isabella struggling to cover herself, Zae's heavy gaze holds mine. He doesn't show much, and for the first time in five years he's closed off his mind completely. I'm not surprised. A tight muscle in his jaw twitches, and his brown orbs reflect the pain he struggles to hide. His meaty hands, clutching the satchel he lifted from his shoulders, drop the bag and clench at his sides.

I stare back at him, speechless and trying hard to ignore the sinking dread in my gut, while Isabella tries to hide behind me. Perhaps Zae has a right to be upset. He loves Bella as much as I do, and although I didn't clarify as much last time we spoke, I may have led him to believe I'd wait until he got home. That we'd play together after the intimate dinner I'd planned.

Yeah, so much for that. But not once have I promised I wouldn't touch her. He knows I'm weak-willed, and claiming her is my right. She is mine.

Zaenack clears his throat and turns his back on me, making my heart lurch and I almost reach for him. But I grab a pillow to cover myself instead. Not that it's going to do me any good. The damage has already been done.

“Since you two are busy,” he mutters, staring down the hallway. Background noises from the rest of the house filter into my bedroom: A television, music blaring and muted laughter. Everything destroys the fantasy world I'd created with Isabella. “I'll leave you to it.” His voice is barely a whisper as he stalks away, slamming the door behind him.

To be Continued?