Sin City by Night

By Nikki Blood

XXX Erotica

For those who like or need more substance with their hot and naughty, I present to you the serial story of our secret guardians.
They are known throughout history as the Nephilim, half angel, half human. These half-breed are all that stands in the way of Lucifer and his thirteen apostles in the war that continues. They hunt the things that go bump in the night, the things that should not exist, and their numbers are dwindling.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ripley King
• Release date: Apr 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370390311

Book preview

Sin City by Night, by Nikki Blood

XXX Erotica

For those who like or need more substance with their hot and naughty, I present to you the serial story of our secret guardians.

They are known throughout history as the Nephilim, half angel, half human. These half-breed are all that stands in the way of Lucifer and his thirteen apostles in the war that continues. They hunt the things that go bump in the night, the things that should not exist, and their numbers are dwindling.

Novel and Cover Illustration Copyright © 2017 Nikki Blood. All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the author is illegal. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

Sin City by Night - Part One

Chapter 1

Rocking your hips to push a cock deeper, doesn’t really work as well as you might think. There’s little in and out movement to satisfy me. I had to position myself on top of him, carefully tilt my hips outward, just a little bit, and then I could feel every fat inch as I bounced . . . on him—it . . . the demi-demon beneath me with the ten-inch hard flesh-pipe—getting my money’s worth . . . loosely speaking.

Slow down, he said, working his hips in time with mine. Baseball. Margaret Thatcher. Obesity.

Like that would ever happen.

I let mister tall, dark, and dangerous pick me up in one of the lesser-known grunge bars off Fifth. I noticed he wasn’t quite human, probably my target, and kept my eye contact when he stopped to look me over.

I smiled a coy, I’m really freaking horny smile, and pulled my shoulders back a hair-and-a-half so he could ogle Firm and Perky in their full and braless glory.

The I’m getting lucky wheels started to turn in his head, and I even think his dick started to twitch a bit in his boxers, because he tried but failed to cooly saunter over with his drink, just so he could notice mine needed a generous refill.

I won’t get into the small-talk aspects of the evening. He liked everything I liked without fail, and the conversation always twisted back toward him after a few short minutes.

When he suggested we leave that miserable little dive, maybe catch a quick bite, I wondered if he offered up a double entendre, but steered him to a nearby steak house and ordered light. A brisket and polenta salad, chased down with a large, dry red wine.

His twenty-four-ounce slab of cow could have been still mooing, for all the good the grill’s flames did kitchen-wise, but he enjoyed every slobbery bite.

His next suggestion was to not let the night end, and I gladly took him up on it. Once we arrived, his place not mine, he was eager to get the party started.

So was I. The sooner the better. Which brings me back to the large cock I was full-on cowgirl with, and him, it, whatever,