Warlord Wants Forever - Kresley Cole [22]
“Never.”
He ignored her protest. “If at anytime in anything we do, you want to deepen the experience, for instance by climbing up here to straddle me, I give you leave.”
“Are you off your meds?” she snapped, but he could tell she was nervous.
He gently cupped her face with both hands, thumbing her glistening bottom lip. “Touch yourself.”
She gasped, her hand flying to her skin as though magnetized. She stroked up and down between her breasts.
“Lower,” he commanded. Her fingers snaked down her flat stomach though she clearly resisted the order. “Lower.”
She twitched from the fight, but she obeyed, her fingers descending to her sex.
“Open your knees wide and pleasure yourself as if I wasn’t here.”
“Don’t,” she whispered, even as she spread her knees to run her delicate finger against her flesh. His cock pulsed and the head grew slick. After long moments of simply staring in awe as she began trembling and her eyes grew silver, he rasped, “Are you wet?”
“Yes,” she moaned.
He felt electricity rolling from her, pricking at his skin, revealing how much pleasure she was experiencing, and it quickened his own need. He bit out, “Inside. Put your finger inside.”
When her finger slipped inside her sex, she threw her head back, crying out.
“Two fingers. Deeper.” He clenched the edge of the bench, and the marble cracked under his grip. “Harder.”
She obeyed, this time throwing her head forward, hair cascading over his torso as she moaned against his cock. Her tongue flicked out while she panted against him.
“Ah, deeper. Faster…”
She moaned around him this time, because she’d taken the head into her mouth. She continued to work her body with one of her hands, her fingers sliding in and out of her heat. Her other hand was all over him, wickedly seeking, her lips so moist and plump and hungry, behaving just as he’d suspected she would….
His Bride was on her knees, her fingers deep inside her body at his command, sucking greedily at his cock. He bit out, “Do you want me to touch your breasts?”
When she nodded eagerly, he grated, “You have to ask me for it.”
Her fingers slowed, and she released him from her lips, though her head was still bowed. He didn’t want her to stop, knew he’d pushed too far.
“I want to, Myst. I want to have my hands on your beautiful breasts. I’ve dreamed of this for so long,” he admitted.
She hesitated, her body quivering. “Will you touch them?” she breathed, then set right back to her ministrations. He choked out a groan when she kissed all around the head wetly with her tongue, as she might his mouth. She took him with such abandon that he knew she was on the verge again. He reached down and covered her breasts with his hands, closing his eyes at the feel, squeezing, stopping only to pluck and thumb her nipples.
The pressure was building inside him. His body tightened, knees opening and heels planting on the ground as he tensed to spend. He didn’t know how he’d lived so long without this blinding pleasure.
“Watch me come,” he growled.
She raised her face, and somehow she knew he wanted her to meet his eyes, not watch the actual spilling of his seed. Silvery eyes riveted to his, she worked her fist on his cock, pumping it in time with her finger dipping inside her—as if she yearned for him to fill her.
That thought sent him over the edge. The unbearable pressure exploded as he ejaculated, mindlessly thrusting against her hand, arms shooting straight out to cup her face with both hands. When she saw him spend, her eyes grew wide before fluttering shut and she cried out, jerking against her fingers as she came all on her own.
She collapsed against his knees, still shuddering, clutching his leg as she had that night in Oblak. Before she’d left him, bleeding and in pain. The need dampened,