Chapter 42 #2
His hands left my body in an instant, and he stepped away.
“This is just a tent. Won't everyone outside hear us?”
He exhaled with relief, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The whole pabell is currently surrounded by a sphere of water. No one will hear a thing.”
“Isn't that a dead giveaway about what's going on inside?”
“No, it's not. I often use the water sphere to tell my Coven to leave me alone for a multitude of reasons.”
“Oh, okay.” I flopped back down on the table and spread my legs. “You may proceed.”
His hands pushed my knees wider, and the sound of steel being unsheathed rang out. I lifted my head to see a small, curved knife in his hand.
“May I?” He gestured to my trousers. My eyes nearly bulged out of my head when I understood what he was suggesting.
“Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!”
Dylan sliced the crotch clean open and used his hands to rip apart my leggings. As the fabric fell away, I was surprised to see he hadn't even nicked my underwear in the process, nor did I feel the blade touch any of my skin.
He stabbed the small blade into the wooden table beside my leg. When my gaze moved to my bare lower half, I became hyper aware of just how exposed I was to him like this. My knees pulled together instinctively.
As if he read my mind, Dylan let out a sound of frustration and guided my legs wider again. I shifted my weight backwards slightly as I leant on my hands.
“Fucking perfect,” he whispered, his lips only a hair's breadth from my pussy. The sensation of his breath against my slick skin made my toes curl.
Flattening his tongue against my underwear, he dragged it from between my arse cheeks all the way up over my clit. I bucked and writhed on the table, and he moved his hand up to my hips, gripping them in place.
“So impatient. Tell me what you'd like me to do to you next?”
“All of it—everything. Anything you're willing to give, I want.”
He dislodged the small blade from the table and brought the sharp tip just above the high neck of my habit. I consented with a breathy yes, and he sliced a clean opening, dragging the blade down the centre of my habit and undershirt, leaving my bra still impressively intact.
Dylan discarded the knife on another tool bench to the side of the tent and walked around the table until he stood above my head.
Trailing his fingertips up my stomach to my chest, his hand settled around my neck. My mind was instantly thrown back to the feel of Elis against my skin.
I must have flinched because Dylan snatched his hand away and moved to my side. He helped me into a sitting position, and his face was panicked as he searched my eyes.
“I'm okay. It was nothing, I just—
“Who did it?” he bit out. “Who touched you when you didn't want to be touched? I noticed the way you flinched the last time we were in this tent, too. Who fucking touched you when you didn't want to be touched?”
“He's long gone, ancient history. He's nothing, really.”
Dylan was quiet while his jaw worked. “He will be once I'm done with him.”
I didn't doubt him for a second.
“Do you want to continue?”
I nearly jumped off the table and wrapped my arms around him when I said yes.
He made his way to the top of the table, standing above my head. “I want you to sit up, so your back is to me. Take your underwear off—all of it. Slowly.”
Following his lead, I did exactly as he said, taking my bra off and shimmying my thong off while still staying seated on the table.
When I was completely naked, Dylan brushed his lips against the base of my spine and pressed kisses all the way up until he reached my neck.
He scraped his teeth along my tattooed shoulder.
“Lie back down, slowly.”
Descending backwards as slowly as I could, I bared myself completely for him. No underwear this time to hide how wet I was. With my head on the table, I could see his look of pure awe as he took my naked body in.
He looked down at me, a cruel smirk on his lips that terrified me and turned me on all at the same time. “Ready?”
Fuck, yes.
For what, I wasn't entirely sure, but I was about to find out.
Dylan leaned over my body and dipped his finger between my legs. He pulled his hand back and examined it above my body under the light of the hanging lamp.
His finger glistened with my desire as he looked down at me with disbelief.
“Is this all for me?” He gestured to his soaking finger.
Words had long evaded me; all I could manage was another nod.
His muscular body reached over me again as his mouth descended.
Dylan's tongue was thorough; it lapped and tasted every inch of my clit as I greedily moved against his face, searching for more friction.
He replaced his tongue with his fingers and stood to his full height to watch as he traced slow, languid circles on my clit.
No one, not a single person I had ever been with of any gender, had made me feel the way he did. And something told me no one else ever would.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a tendril of water rise from the ground and move towards the right side of the table.
My lapse in attention to what was happening had Dylan pressing his thumb to the centre of my clit, and I cried out with need.
“Eyes on me, cariad,” he commanded.
I still saw the tendrils move towards me in my peripheral, one on each side of the table. They gently wrapped around my wrists, pulling my hands away from where they played with my nipples.
The restraints of water lightly pressed my wrists against the table on either side of my head. The feel of them against my skin as I pulled sent shivers down my spine.
Dylan's mouth moved to devour me again, and this time, he tested the restraints by sucking my clit into his mouth and dragging his teeth over it.
My legs instinctively snapped shut from the intensity of the sensation, but two more tendrils hooked around my knees and held me open for him.
With all the restraints of water in place and Dylan's fingers back on my clit moving painfully slow, I felt the orgasm build quickly, ready to wash over me.
As if he could sense it coming, Dylan snatched his fingers away, and my head snapped up with a gasp.
How fucking dare he.
From between my legs, I watched as a thicker arm of water rose up and moved towards my opening. It applied light pressure to ease me in. Before he sheathed it fully, Dylan looked down at me and asked for permission to enter.
Once again, my yes came out pleading.
Dylan's power pushed inside me as his fingers continued to work my clit. Feeling him and his power inside me, in almost every hole, was addictive. I knew I'd crave it until my final days.
“My power wants to feel you come around it,” he growled as the water began pistoning in and out of me.
I only lasted a few minutes as Dylan fucked me relentlessly with his power. I was pulled taut like a bowstring already, and when the water began vibrating, I shattered completely.
As I came, Dylan covered my mouth with his. I didn't think for one second that he wanted to keep me quiet. Instead, he wanted to taste me as I came.
I was utterly spent when his power pulled back. The thought of getting off this table and functioning again was exhausting.
As if he read my mind, Dylan scooped me up in his arms and carried me to the back of his tent. The bed I'd only seen the foot of was almost the size of two double beds pushed together.
His lasso of water snaked across the duvet, pulling it back as he placed me down on the mattress.
He stepped away from the bed, and I reached to grab him with a whimper.
“I'm just getting something to clean you with, cariad. Patience.”
Once I was clean, he stood next to the bedside and dropped his skirt before slipping under the covers and pulling my arse towards him.
He'd moved so quickly, I'd not seen anything of him other than his thick, toned thighs.
“Didn't you say you'd organised dinner?” I said over a yawn.
“I have, but it can wait until you're ready. If you want to sleep, then by all means go to sleep.”
As soon as my eyes fluttered closed, I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.