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Subject: Chapter 16: Leader Of The Pack (NC-17 Additional warning for language and roughness.) (I've been told that, for *some* reason, this is a popular chapter. Can't see it, myself. *wg* ;-P *g*)

Sanlin and Zute
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Date Posted: 00:07:06 12/12/01 Wed
In reply to: Sanlin 's message, "Welcome everyone :-D and a repost of "It's Absurd"" on 18:05:34 12/01/01 Sat

“On your knees. Now,” he commanded mercilessly, growling in Nikita’s ear.

His breath stirred the hairs on the back of her neck, making her body quiver with desire. Her loins were liquid with longing as he pressed his taut-muscled body tightly against her.

Shivering at the barely restrained passion in his thick accent and the raw, animal heat of his powerful presence, Nikita complied, drawing herself up onto her knees, still facing away from him.

“Good,” he grunted approvingly, wrapping one of his arms around her waist and bending forward to deepen his passion-marks on her throat with sharp, possessive bites.

She moaned and arched her neck, pressing her throat against his mouth in response.

He growled his approval, stroking her breasts possessively. “You’re mine. Not just for a day, or a rendezvous, but forever. And I will have you, Ni-ki-ta.” He punctuated his words by spreading her legs further apart with his free hand and then licking the hot, sweet honey seeping from her core.

“Mi-chael.” Nikita would have collapsed if Michael hadn’t still been gripping her firmly about the waist. As it was, her heartbeat and breathing raced to see which could disintegrate fastest into the most erratic beat.

“Mmmmmm…” Michael purred, like a cream-fed cat. He ran his tongue over her folds, dipping into her depths and stroking along her walls, thinking, as he did so, that no one and nothing tasted as good as her. He could feast on her honey endlessly and never be sated or satisfied. It was sweeter than ambrosia and he craved it constantly. Demonstrating his devotion by stroking into her core with long, languid thrusts of his fingers, his tongue simultaneously teased and licked her pearl, coaxing more honey from her depths and setting her inner walls quivering with sensual tension. “Do you like that?”

“Unh…” Nikita nipped Michael’s hand and kissed the tender skin of his inner arm where he held her against him.

He smiled against her hair, before schooling his tone back to seriousness. “What do you want?”

“M… More,” Nikita managed to gasp, then Michael’s talented fingers, still at work within her core, stole her powers of speech again.

“How do you want me? Gentle…” He brushed a kiss against her neck, soft as a butterfly’s wing. “Or rough…” Michael tortured one of his red marks of possession on her throat with his teeth until she writhed beneath him, crying out in passion.

“Ahhhhh…” he growled knowingly. “You like that?” He soothed the spot, laving it with his tongue. “And now?”

If ever there was a time to throw Madeline’s comportment and etiquette lessons out the window, Nikita knew this was it. She wanted Michael wild, merciless and instinctively knew how to bring out the sleek, silent panther she had seen in him countless times before. He moved so gracefully, beautiful and deadly, stalking prey through the endless corridors of Section and on their covert missions together. Remembering all the times she’d watched, and wanted him, she purred, “Michael… Ride me until I can’t breathe… and f*ck me until the only thing I remember is how good you feel inside of me and how much I love you.”

If Nikita could see the dangerous gleam her words stirred in Michael’s passion-darkened eyes, she might have regretted provoking him. As it was, she heard his inarticulate roar and gasped a moment later as his hard length slid into her with one long, ruthless thrust. She screamed her approval, digging her fingernails into the bedcovers and arching her neck against his chiseled body.

“Rough, then? Good, ‘Kita,” he purred, rubbing his rasping beard stubble against her cheek, marking her as his mate. “No mercy.” Michael punctuated his remarks by thrusting inside of her with a series of deep, rotating jabs, hitting Nikita’s most sensitive spots.

“Oh, God, Michael…” Nikita closed her eyes, panting, as Michael began a series of long, slow thrusts; teasing along her walls until they contracted, clasping and rippling along his length, and then stroking into her silken core.

“Mmmmmmm… I love you, like this…My ‘Kita.” He growled, marking her shoulder with his teeth, and then reaching around to take possession of one of her breasts.

“Yesssss…” she sighed, as he filled her completely, then almost withdrew from her again. He increased the friction and pressure along her walls with his next movement, hitting her fast and hard repeatedly, before beginning a brutal rhythm of short, deep thrusts against her cervix. She gasped with each stroke, feeling his throbbing c*ck beating against the entrance to her womb. “Mi-chael…”

“Now, my mate…” Michael’s voice was thick with predatory satisfaction. “Come for me,” he commanded, hitting her favorite spot with several hard, perfect finishing strokes.

“Michael…” Nikita’s body shuddered in response. “Mi-chael…” The world dropped away, filling with light, as waves of pleasure overtook her.

“Yes, yessssss…” Michael continued stroking into her, passing through her rippling walls and moaning his approval as they grasped and massaged his c*ck, drawing him deeper into his Angel, until he was buried in her completely.

He stroked her through two more quaking releases, until her urgent screams rattled the panes of glass in her bedroom’s French doors. Then he permitted himself to join her, crying her name again and again as his love flowed into her and his spirit joined hers, dwelling with her, in paradise, for awhile.

It took a long time for each of them to come down again, but when they did, they held each other, stroking and soothing the telltale signs of their passion and resting within the warmth of a love that went beyond notions of time or place. They were a union of souls that had always been, and always would be, soul mates and lovers.

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Well, for once I'm nearly speechless. (Note to self: buy French doors.) (NT)JayBee10:14:43 12/12/01 Wed

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