Yvette
Victor was waiting for her in the center of the room, looking as tense as a caged basilisk. His doublet had been unlaced, showing the loose white shirt beneath and exposing a hint of his chest.
“So,” he said, the veil of his patience incredibly thin. It was not a quality that came naturally to him, but he tried. “Tell me, pet. Who is she?”
“Don’t be coy with me, darling,” Victor said, shutting the door behind her.
“Yes, I could see that very well myself,” Victor said sourly. “She looks as if he found her living in the woods. Are they fucking?”
“When I left, they were kissing. It was all very sweet, really.”
Victor rolled his eyes. “Why does the Fate hate me?” he sighed, pushing a hand through his golden curls.
“There’s more,” Yvette baited, standing.
His eyes landed on her, intense in their focus. “If there is more, then tell me.”
She smiled coyly, withholding.
Victor took a step closer. “Do I look like I am in the mood for games, pet?” His voice was precise and dangerous.
Her heart beat a little faster, but she kept her silence, daring him.
A gasp caught in her throat as he struck out, fast as an adder, grabbing the base of her braid. He drew her in slowly until his face was only inches from her own. Her breath was shallow with exhilaration as he studied her brazenly.
“Tell me.” It was a flat, unyielding demand.
Yvette reached her hand to the string of her bodice and drew it loose.
His eyes dropped from her face, following the motion. Not in the mood for games, indeed.
Victor grabbed her hand, tightening his grip on her braid until she could look nowhere but his eye.
“Shall I pry the information from you, then?”
Yvette nodded as much as she could. Her heart beat a little harder in her chest, eager for his touch.
He released her hand, and it fell to her side.
“Then let’s play.” He pulled, and the knot of her bodice sprung free.
Already her breasts fell loose, no longer confined.
His fingers plucked at the strings, pulling them free one by one.
She stayed completely still, hardly breathing.
Victor remained completely engrossed in his task, not looking at her until he pulled the final cord loose.
His eyes surveyed her as her dress hung loosely around her frame. When they again met her face, he pulled back on her braid and licked the column of her neck with agonizing slowness. A whine built in her throat, and he shook his head slightly.
“I do not want to hear a single sound out of you.” His words tickled against her ear as he spoke. “Not unless you are telling me what I want to know. That will be our game.”
Yvette nodded, sucking in her lips. Her whole body was already shaking with the need to touch him, to be touched. But she did not move.
His teeth grazed the shell of her ear. A shiver worked down her spine, bringing every sense to alert as he kissed and nipped his way down to her jaw. He released his hold on her, pushing her dress off her shoulders. She moved her arms just enough to let it fall unhindered to the floor.
Starting at her back, she felt the lightest touch of his fingers trailing the neckline of her loose underdress. Yvette bit her lip as he grazed the sensitive skin at the crest of her breasts.
“Are you ready to tell me, pet?” he whispered into her neck.
He pulled the neck of her underdress down her shoulders. It fit there tightly, her arms pinned to her side, her breasts spilling over the fabric. Her legs turned to butter, melting, but she did not emit a sound.
“No, I think you’re entirely too greedy to cave so soon.”
Victor’s eyes locked with her own as he pushed it down further. She heard the sound of seams tearing as it stretched around her elbows. Her small, peaked breasts fell free. Yvette let out a shuddering breath as the layer fell to the floor leaving her in only a thin skirt.
“Shhhsshhhshshh.” He breathed against her skin as he lowered himself. His hand came around one of her breasts, already heavy and aching with need. Victor’s touch made her eyes clench shut with bliss. She bit down on her lip to keep a delicious moan from escaping her.
His hand gripped and rolled her, once twisting to the point of pain.
Yvette looked down as she felt his breath warm against her nipple.
As he took her into his mouth, her knees nearly buckled.
Victor’s eyes fixed on hers. Behind her, he twisted the end of her braid around his hand in a practiced motion.
He pulled until her gaze was forced to the ceiling, feeling his mouth move over her, biting and sucking.
Yvette’s hand clamped over her mouth as a moan built in her throat. It took everything she had to suppress it as his tongue rolled against the sensitive bud, his hand squeezing her other breast in tandem. His teeth grazed her, and Yvette’s whole body twitched beneath him.
Victor growled in approval. He released her, only to take nearly her entire breast into his mouth, sucking hard. At the same moment, he twisted the other. Yvette’s legs faltered. She couldn’t help it. Her hand moved to his shoulder to keep herself from falling.
He stilled beneath her touch and released her, holding only her hair as he rose to his full height.
Victor looked at her hand on his shoulder and took her gently by the wrist. Holding it before him, he drug his tongue from palm to fingertip.
Yvette’s lashes fluttered at the pleasure of his warm mouth against her skin.
He guided her over the skin of his chest and lower, lower.
Yvette bit her lip once more as her fingers traced the outline of his pleasure pressed against his pants.
His eyes shut as he savored the sensation of her fingers dragging against his length.
When they opened again, they were lakes of fire.
He pulled against her braid, angling her eyes up once more.
His mouth claimed hers. His tongue pushed into her, filling her with his taste. Yvette worked her hand down his cock as behind her, his hand wrapped around her waist, grabbing her through her skirts.
A growl ripped through his throat. “Take this off,” he said, pulling himself away from her.
Victor watched her hungrily as she slid her skirt around her hips lazily, taking her own turn to be wicked. When it finally fell, only her stockings remained. A chill swept over her bare skin, sending another shiver through her.
“Turn around,” Victor said quietly. “Over the bed, pet.”
Yvette watched him over her shoulder as she turned, lowering herself until her chest and cheek were resting against the furs draped over the bed. He stood over her clothed and composed as she lay before him, encircled by her own discarded clothes, presented to him.
For the longest time, he didn’t touch her.
It was torture when that’s all she could think about, what she ached for.
When at last she felt him, his hand brushed against her ankle, running along the inside of her leg.
Her senses were so peaked that Yvette jerked as he reached the tender skin of her thigh.
She muffled her cry into the bedding as heat swelled in her core.
“Tell me, darling.” Victor’s voice was sweet and sharp all at once.
Her mouth clamped shut.
His hand left her and she wanted to whine in protest, but kept herself quiet. She felt the brush of fabric against her legs as his hand moved between them. Then she felt his nails scraping against the soft skin of her stomach.
“Don’t be stubborn,” he whispered. “I assure you I can do this all day.”
This: holding her at the painful peak of pleasure with no release. It was already growing uncomfortably between her legs, in her tender breasts pressed up against the bed. Yet all she could think of was his hand tracing closer and closer to exactly where she wanted it to be.
Instead, Victor’s hand gripped the curls there and gave a little tug.
“You want me inside you, don’t you?”
She didn’t answer, even though inside she was screaming for his touch, for release.
He tugged more insistently. “Don’t you, pet?”
Yvette nodded hard into the bed.
He released her. Her legs snapped shut as he moved his fingers across her point of pleasure. Yet he continued gliding over her opening before coming to squeeze her ass harshly.
“Open your legs,” he rebuked.
Trembling, they complied.
Yvette buried her face in the blankets. She couldn’t take it, not another touch. She’d call out. There was no stopping it.
His hands spread her, fingers digging into her skin even as his thumb ran over her opening. Yvette’s knees buckled. His other hand came down on her thigh hard enough to sting, and she straightened at once.
Victor’s thumb resumed its work, tracing her opening, stretching her, all the while avoiding her pleasure point purposefully, yet only a slip away. All she could think of was how he was a single movement away from being inside her. The hollow feeling was building inside her. It was driving her mad.
“So wet for me,” he whispered. “Have you already cum, my pet?”
She shook her head.
“You must be on the edge. Tell me and I’ll fuck you right now.”
Yvette’s eyes rolled back into her head at the thought, biting her lips so hard she was afraid she might draw blood.
It wasn’t enough.
When Victor plunged his fingers into her, Yvette cried out, unrestrained.
His hand struck her ass hard enough for her to cry again. He hit her again in the same place. A tear rolled from her eye as she kept herself quiet. Still, his fingers were fucking her relentlessly. It took everything in her not to scream in pleasure and pain.
“Tell me, darling.” His vicious pace did not slow.
She whimpered.
Victor struck her again on the other side.
“She has magic,” her voice betrayed her through panting breaths. “She’s like me. She has magic.”
His fingers withdrew from her.
“Is that so?” he asked, his tone at once conversational. “How are you sure?”
“I saw her do it.”
“Well, that is something, now isn’t it?”