Semua Bab Cats and Kings (Mafia Reverse Harem) Nyx 1: The Curse : Bab 21 - Bab 30

Xoxo NyxAfter searching the cave of wonders for a treat, and scooping a small spoonful of the treat into the wee one’s mouth, his drooly fingers latch on to mine.It takes a second, but those aquamarine eyes go from slightly wing tipped to owlishly round and large with the uncertainty of the new flavor and sensation. That second that kids decide if they love or hate the experience hangs in the expression.I give him a beaming smile of encouragement when he clamps down, deciding that it is, in fact, a good thing. “See? Waaayyyyy better than a cookie.″ The little one agrees, clapping his feet, not willing to let go of his treat. Chewing on the spoon as if the silver coated plastic will produce more of it.There is a resounding, discontented shrill when I gently tug the empty utensil out. Unaware that I have yet another scoop to offer.With a determined wiggle and extreme interest in the yellow heaven, the little guy is supported on the counter by Dad while both hands help me along in th

Xoxo NyxWatching him, holding him……Having a real family….Being a mother was all I wanted.....I close that memory. That too painful recollection. I cannot, will not, let Voldemort spoil this. My inability to have children has no bearing on my capability to be a parent.Well, when I get my life together that is, and once Nicky and Alex work through their current tiff, I will be an Aunt. Nicky has wanted to be a Dad as long as I’ve wanted to be a mom. Unlike me, he does remember the family he lost. I can’t say which is harder.Remembering what you miss or the void that lingers with no understanding on how to fill it. Either way, I need to buckle down, and maybe being an official Nanny will be good practice.I've been reminded more and more of how much I miss, how much I want, and how far I've come with my roommate having her own little one. I've been playing Mary Poppins with R.J. while she goes to school, and wonder if maybe it's not a calling.....A sign or something with not one but

Rourke Fuck.……. I’m tired, I’m wired, I’m so horny I’d probably get off on humping air with the non-stop adrenaline charged week I’ve had. Leaving me alone with my darkest demons, and newest obsessions without interference.Regardless of Grimm being new to my ranks, he’s one of the few people I never questioned, no matter how brilliant the kid is. Gut feeling, or maybe a blind spot because I just can’t admit for the first time in my life I’m attracted to a man.I can blame it on the testosterone and edge all I want, but there’s no denying it’s happening on as much a conscious as subconscious level. I don’t have time for distractions and the fastest way to get rid of temptation is to give into it.“So, how many zeros are we talkin?” I ask, finally at my limit. The comment about him deep throating my ‘King Kong cock’, always somewhere in the back of my head when I’m around him.Grimm’s brows lift, eyes still on the screen he’s setting up at my question. I’m in a bad place, and the more

RourkeSaints, Grimm’s tongue is huge. Even though he lets my shaft drop, and I feel the breeze of the room, ten degrees difference to his smoldering cavern, and the thing that puts Gene Simmons to shame curls and pulls it right back in…..My head goes back in the belly clenching groan when Grimm not only has me at bottom, but makes my rock-hard nuts bounce again with added slides of his tongue on them.It’s a challenge, a test to see how much he can get away with. He’s learning my limits. Paying too close attention, looking for the same tics I do when I’m feeling someone out.I don’t know what is harsh to him, and hell if I wouldn’t pay knowing exactly what he charges for the experience when he satisfies that curiosity.Sucking my nuts into his mouth with my shaft and pressing my hips to fuck his face to my heart’s content for a solid minute without a single breath. I return my fingers to his neck to gauge when he needs a break.I pull back, pack it down and deny myself the orgasm, de

Xoxo NyxTugging the fancy lady through the city streets, it’s easy to tell that she’s used to being bossed as much as manhandled. With both of us fading by the second, I know there’s no way we’re making it back to my place.So, I choose the next best thing. Zach’s.It’s a twenty-four-seven diner run by a woman named Helen and her brother Zeke. Their brother was lost in the war, which is why they named after him.With Zeke’s PTSD, it’s not as if it’s winning any awards for quality or consistency. However, it’s the place all vets feel comfortable going, I guess.It’s mostly empty, and I manage to slide into a booth before the last bit of bone in my legs gives out on me. I can’t breathe or speak and feel about as stable as jello.Ana is directly across from me, and in another moment of association, I get that feeling. A strange clarity on what it’s like from the outside looking in with her struggling to convert carbon dioxide into oxygen.The fancy lady struggles with a button that isn’t