Chapter 32
Chapter
Thirty-Two
P inned down with Nemeth’s hand beneath my skirt, I find that all of my anger disappears in a flash.
I want him to touch me. I need it, more than I’ve needed anything in a long time. My lips part and my nails dig into the blankets even as his hand skims up my backside, finding the silky fabric of my panties and tearing them apart with a quick snag of his claws. “Tell me to stop,” he warns me again, his breathing hard. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll let you go, Candra.”
Stop? Never. I want all of this. I want him to make me come so hard my toes curl and lights flash behind my eyes. How long has it been since I’ve had a good hard orgasm? Touching myself isn’t the same, and given that my arousal is heightened by Nemeth and the way I touched him earlier? I’m going to come so damned hard. It’s going to be amazing. “Don’t tease me if you don’t intend to follow through.”
He growls again, the sound feral and wild. I love it. It makes my nipples prick and my body sing with awareness, because I know I’m driving him past all reason. I love that I can push Nemeth—scholarly, warrior-like Nemeth who wanted to be a monk, of all things—past the brink. I love that he’s pushing my skirts up to my waist and exposing my backside to the air, because he’s going to stare his fill at me and see just how much I want and need this.
And I’m relieved. He liked my touch after all. It’s evident in the way his hand roams over my hips and thighs, his touch greedy. It’s like he doesn’t know how to stop caressing me, so he’s just going to keep touching and touching until I demand that he stop…or if I come. Well, I’m definitely not telling him to stop. This is the realization of every filthy fantasy I’ve had in the last year, ever since I stepped foot over the tower’s threshold. My cunt clenches with need, and I gasp as he slides his hand over one buttock, his claw grazing along the crease of my ass.
“Naughty, beautiful Candra,” he murmurs. “You’re so gods-damned wet. I can smell you from here.”
I moan, burying my face against the blankets, because he’s right—I am thoroughly, unabashedly wet. My cunt is so slippery with arousal I can feel my skin gliding against itself with every slight shift of my hips. I’m so wet he doesn’t need oil of any kind to serve as lubricant, because I don’t think I’ve ever been so very slick.
His big hand grips my buttock, and it fits neatly against his oversized palm. He gives it a squeeze, and even that small touch is arousing. “How long have you been aroused like this?”
I bite my lip, squirming against his hand. Why, why, why do I desperately want those dangerous claws in naughty places? “Since I touched you earlier.”
Nemeth sighs. “And I sent you away.”
“You did. You’re a monster,” I agree breathlessly.
“You want this monster to touch you?”
“Please,” I practically sob, and spread my thighs apart in silent invitation. “Oh, please do.”
He groans, and those delicious claws carefully skate over the seam of my cunt. I can feel him dipping them into the arousal slicking my pussy and thighs. “You’re flushed with heat here. So warm and soft and wet. To think you’ve been hiding all this under your skirts all this time.”
I whimper, because he’s still teasing me. His hand is barely brushing over me, and I’m absolutely going to lose control if he doesn’t touch me properly soon. “ Nemeth .”
“Did you mean what you said earlier?” He demands, and something hard and unyielding glides through my folds. His knuckle. I groan as he rubs it up and down my pussy, barely grazing over my clit. It’s the cruelest of teases. When I don’t answer quickly enough, he reaches up and smacks my buttock with a hard, ringing sound. “Answer.”
“I don’t remember what I said,” I confess, utterly distracted. The only thing on my mind right now is the hand I want between my thighs again.
“That you wanted to touch me? Was that true?”
I nod, biting my lip. Please, please touch me again, I silently beg.
He smacks my butt once more. “Say it out loud.”
“Yes, it’s true!” I should be annoyed by the spanking, but gods, it’s arousing. I love this bossy, dominant side of him that only comes out at certain times. “Why would I lie?”
“To toy with me,” Nemeth comments, stroking my stinging buttcheek once more. “How long have you wanted to touch me?”
His claws skate close to my pussy again and I clench my hands into the bedsheets in anticipation of his touch. “Since…since winter. Since we shared heat under the blankets.”
He pauses. “Truly?”
“Maybe earlier,” I babble. “I don’t know! I don’t keep track of these things! I just know I need you to touch me.”
“You want a monster to finger your cunt? A terrible, awful Fellian man? You want him to touch your pretty folds and make you come?”
I whimper, because when he puts it that way, yes, yes I absolutely do.
Then his fingertips gently brush over my folds again and I cry out because it’s taking everything I have not to buck my hips. “Your claws?—”
“I’ll be careful,” he murmurs, concentration in his voice. “You think I’ve gone through this world with claws for twenty-eight years and I don’t know how to wield them against delicate things?” The pad of one finger strokes up my cleft, towards my clit. “You think a monster can’t be gentle?”
The moment he touches my clit, I sob. HIs touch is perfection. To my astonishment, he knows just how to touch me, too. His fingertip circles around my clit in slow, careful motions, and Nemeth makes a rumble of pleasure when I twitch against him in response.
“So soft,” he purrs, the sound rumbling low and delicious in his throat. “So soft and wet and pink.” He strokes the hood of my clit, nearly making me come off the bed. “I’d finger that pretty cunt of yours but you’re so small and my fingers are so big. I think I’m too big for you.”
I practically wheeze with need. Oh, gods, he’s saying such filthy things. I love it. I love it, and I want more.
“Should I try anyhow?” he asks, voice like silk as he leans over me and teases my clit. “Should I stretch you around one of my fingers and see if that pretty cunt can take it? I bet you can take it. I bet I can slip a thick finger inside that pink heat and work you until you’re stretched wide. You’d have to be if you’re going to take my knot.”
Oh gods, his knot. Whimpering, I arch against his fingers. “Please, Nemeth.”
“Please what, princess? Please stop? Please give you my knot? You have to be more specific.” His finger moves away from my clit and skims down towards the aching entrance to my body. “If you can’t tell me what you want, I’ll just…stop.”
“Fingers,” I manage. “Please…fingers. Fill me up.”
“You only get one, naughty princess,” he murmurs, and his voice fills me with heat and longing. “One until I decide you can take two. Or even three.”
I’ve seen his fingers. I don’t know if my body can handle three of them, but right now? Nothing sounds hotter than that.
“Hold still,” he commands me, and his grip gets tight on my wrist again. “You don’t want me going too deep.” He leans in close, his breath hot on my ear. “Don’t worry about my claws, Candra. I’ll be safe with this pretty cunt. Wouldn’t do me any good to damage it when I want nothing more than to be deep inside it.”
A choked sound breaks from me, because I want that too. So much.
“Hold still for me, princess,” he tells me again, and then he pushes my thighs further apart. I don’t need more encouragement than that—I spread my legs wide, opening myself up for his access.
There’s a pricking nudge, and then an impossibly thick finger slides deep into me. I’m stretching all right. It’s a tight, delicious fit that promises so much. I whimper again, squirming, because oh, it feels incredible. It’s been so long since I’ve been filled like this it makes the breath escape from my lungs. I shiver, and then when he starts to slowly move that finger in and out, I moan. “Need…”
“Need what, princess?” His voice is hot against my ear, his weight heavy upon mine. “Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”
“Need you to touch my clit, too,” I manage to choke out. “Need it to come.”
“Do you?” That maddeningly thick finger shifts inside me, and then I feel him dragging his finger against the inside wall of my body.
Everything inside me clenches, a paroxysm of response. I whimper again as my cunt squeezes around his finger and I come, and come so hard that my vision blurs. My muscles lock up and I keep coming as he whispers and tells me how pretty I am as my face contorts and I make ridiculous sounds and the climax rolls through me like a wave.
I can only breathe again when that enormous finger slips out of me and Nemeth nuzzles at my neck, his weight pressing me into the mattress. “Now we have both used each other.”
I moan, because that’s all I’m capable of. I’m wrung out and exhausted, my bare ass hanging over the edge of the bed, but I can’t say I’m displeased. I do feel used, but it’s in the best sort of way. How in all the gods did a scholarly virgin know how to do all that? What kind of books was Nemeth reading? A laugh bubbles up inside me at the mental image of him poring through filthy tomes about how to make a woman come.
“Now you have no leverage,” he tells me, and then gets off of me. He gently lowers my skirts over my thighs and then crosses the room. I sit up, woozy and dazed, and watch as he licks my taste off his fingers and moves towards the fire. “I’ll prepare your medicine.”
Just like that?
I’m a little miffed. I don’t even get a kiss or a cuddle after a fingering like that? Is that all that was to him is leverage? Something to use against me? A game to play?
I eye Nemeth as he stands near the fire, watching his reaction. It’s calm, but he deliberately avoids looking over at me. His normal kilt is on, but I’d have to be an idiot to miss the way it’s tented in the front. Touching me turned him on. He can pretend that he’s not affected by me, but I just watched him devour my taste off his hand.
If he wants to play games, we can absolutely play games. This is my forte.