Chapter 13 #2
“Those are very interesting promises,” she noted, her voice breathy with arousal.
She wrapped a lace around her finger and tugged, unwinding the bow easily.
She touched the flats of her palms over the velvet covering her bosom.
She ran her hands down her bodice, slowly, the stroke loosening her laces and hardening Reule’s body.
The entire dress was attached to her body by the six-inch gather of those front ties, so once they’d loosened significantly, the entire gown merely slid off her body.
This left her in her corset and an underskirt of black linen.
She reached behind herself and untied the skirt, which also fell to the floor.
Reule watched with a breath-locked greed as she stepped over the pile of fabric, wearing only the corset and stockings tied with garters.
She walked toward him and he caught the flash of dark red curls tempting him from between pale thighs.
He reached for his vest, but her hands covered his and she moved until the tips of her breasts just barely touched his clothing.
She took over disrobing him, sliding his vest back off his shoulders, her hands slipping over them and then down his arms. She reached next for his waist, slipping fingers and palms over the rigid muscles of his sides, belly, and lower back, as though she were scouting ahead of herself before she gripped the fabric of his shirt and began to drag the tails free of his pants.
“Turn!” he commanded, grabbing her wrists before she could touch his bare skin beneath the loosened shirt.
He held her arms up above her head in a single hand and spun her around sharply so her back was to him.
The submissive lines of her body in this exposed position were so alluring that he was a little overzealous when he slid his free hand down her raised arms, over her chest, and on until he was beneath the restrictions of the corset and cupping her breast. His fervor sent her stumbling back into his body, her shoulders snug to his chest and her bottom even snugger against his erection.
She pivoted her hips, just an inch or two, and it rubbed her provocatively against him.
Reule groaned savagely, his mouth suddenly against her neck, the slide of fangs warm and deadly sharp against her pulse.
She was gasping for breath now. Obligingly, he freed the laces of her confining corset.
Once it had fallen away, he knelt behind her to peel off her stockings.
He grabbed her by her hips once she was fully nude and spun her back around while remaining on his knees.
Her fingers slid into his hair as he nuzzled her belly.
The scent of her arousal washed over him.
“I can smell how much you want me,” he rumbled roughly. “Stand with your feet farther apart, sweetheart. I’m going to kiss you.”
“Reule …” Her fingers curled anxiously in his hair, mirroring the tension evident in the way she said his name.
He ignored her apprehension, sliding his hand up along her inner thigh until she naturally made way for him, allowing the familiar stroke of his fingers against saturated sprigs of red.
“More,” he urged her hoarsely, his hot breath spilling over her intimately.
He squeezed her thigh and she abruptly stepped out, obeying him and trusting him as he knew she’d trust no one else.
The warm, moist scent of womanly musk was matched instantly to taste as he kissed her.
Then he slid his hands tightly around the backs of her thighs and drew her fully onto his mouth, flooding himself with the erotic essence of her.
She cried out, obviously surprised by the sensations or by his enthusiasm.
Very possibly both. When he slid his tongue over her, she threw back her head and groaned with exultation.
Her clitoris was flushed and swollen and he stroked and tickled against it until he felt her shaking, squirming, and all but ripping his hair out to clutch him tighter to her.
Her leg lifted off the floor, a knee hooking onto his shoulder.
It just about drove him insane, watching her give herself over so fiercely to the seeking of pleasure.
Reule taunted her until she was begging him and he was supporting almost all of her weight while she trembled He continued to feast on her, only he suddenly added the timely thrust of two fingers into her. His tongue swirled around her clit, then he sucked her greedily.
Mystique screamed. It was his name, punctuating long gasps and shuddering groans as her body clutched tight around his buried fingers.
She collapsed completely and he had to catch her and ease her quaking body to the floor.
He covered her with his body as he stripped his shirt away.
He was kissing her an instant later, hearing her react with a little sound of eager appreciation as she tasted herself on his lips.
She was so damn sensual, feeling everything so keenly and with such enjoyment, she had the ability to unravel all of his control and obliterate his good intentions.
He needed to be inside her again, remembering what it felt like to be in her body’s embrace.
He tore at his remaining clothes as she framed his hips with spread thighs.
His aching cock was freed an instant later and then her prisoner once again in a single deep thrust.
Mystique was too hot and wet for sanity, so he shouted out like a madman when her body clutched him in its heavenly trap of silk and sweetness. “By the Lord, baby, there are no words,” he gasped, feeling her legs wrap around him eagerly.
“You don’t have to speak,” she panted. “Just love me, and don’t stop.”
“Such terrible demands you make of me,” he teased her on rapid breaths as he looked down into her passionate eyes.
“I’m afraid I’m quite the nag,” she retorted with a giggle. The laugh tightened her inner muscles, causing a vibration, and he groaned with pleasure.
“This is madness,” he swore. “There cannot be this much delight on the mortal plane.”
He punctuated the observation with a soul-searching kiss.
After a long minute of tangling tongues together, he decided it was time to move.
His first thrust made her whimper and he felt the reaction from the tips of his toes to the very seat of his groin.
He hilted himself harder into her, earning a squeak of delight.
Before long, he was driving hard, fast, and deep as he could, abusing her body to the utmost, but all she did was cry her enjoyment and dig her fingers into his buttocks to urge him on.
She came like a wild thing, bucking beneath him, thrusting her breasts against his lips until he had no choice but to suck and sear her with even more stimulation.
His body screamed for release, begged to be allowed to join her, but he was a man possessed of a promise.
So instead, he regained his wild rhythm and forced her oversensitive body into a fiercer, further point of pleasure.
Mystique built toward that point as he sank so deep that she was overflowing with him.
Something about the pitch of his thrusts was too perfect and she shook in a sort of fear of what was coming.
Her own body was beyond her, and he’d wanted it that way.
She clung to him by her fingernails, reality swirling around her in keen feedback.
“Reule!” she sobbed, tears squeezing out of the corners of her eyes and spilling down into her ears.
“Oh, Lord, kébé,” he groaned ferociously. “Tell me. Now! Tell me where!”
She didn’t think she understood, but then she comprehended all too eagerly.
The first raging ripples of orgasm penetrated in time to his pistoning body, and again, it was with a sharp arch of her back that she presented her breast to him.
There wasn’t even time to see it happening.
One second there was nothing, then the next the blistering ecstasy of his bite surrounding her right nipple.
She felt herself exploding hotly into his mouth, almost as though she were spilling herself inside him while she orgasmed, just as he did an instant later inside her.
He lurched against her so hard it was almost as though he were seizing.
He released her breast in order to roar with pleasure, his head thrown back, fangs gleaming.
The first thing she felt when she began to come back to awareness was the warm, wet trickle of liquid running up her chest. Reule was braced on both elbows above her, his arms quivering, his chest heaving for breath.
He was dripping sweat onto her, the salty fluid mingling with her own, but what she felt was thicker. Heavier.
Blood. Her blood, rolling in two rivulets down her breast and over her collarbone.
She suspected the underside of her breast had a similar sensation, except Reule was pressed against her so she couldn’t feel it.
She waited while he struggled for recovery, watching herself bleed with an odd sort of fascination.
She wasn’t afraid or horrified, most likely because of her medical expertise.
The rapture of his bite was too incredible for her to ever find fault with it.
It all just seemed so natural. No different from hardening, swelling, touching, or licking.
“Oh, damn, baby, I’m sorry,” he murmured suddenly, drawing her full attention as he shifted his weight.
She watched with a flutter of excitement as he bent his dark head and touched his tongue to one of the gleaming red lines and slowly licked along the path with a raspy efficiency.
His lips closed over the small pool against her collarbone and a powerful aftershock of delight slithered through her.
Since he was still inside her, he felt the reaction.
She felt him smile against her skin. He reached the tip of his tongue to the second rivulet.
She felt him growing hard inside her, more so with every inch he cleaned away.
“I think you’re insatiable,” she accused drowsily, her voice husky from gratification.
“Mmm, perhaps. But only with you,” he noted, his lapping tongue next traveling to the underside of her breast. “What you do to me, kébé, is indescribable. I wish it were within the realm of words, so I could explain how you make me feel. But I like that I cannot give it speech. It keeps it sacred somehow.”
His words, for all he said they weren’t adequate, turned her inside out.
Her body began to tremble with emotion and she tried to sweep the intensity of it away before he became aware of her feelings.
Something made her fear her emotional response, made her feel weak for it.
She didn’t want to spoil the moment with a haunting of ghosts from a past she was growing to despise, so she focused on the man nuzzling and licking her.
She sighed with instant relief and contentment.
This she could give him. The pleasure of her body.
The eagerness and desire of a lover who wanted him beyond reason.
She channeled all of those more frightening emotions toward that end.
“Where would you choose?” she asked him as she shifted provocatively beneath him, squeezing inner muscles around him in temptation.
“Choose?” he asked roughly, his concentration all askew once more. He closed her last neglected wound with a few thoughtful licks.
“Your bite, Reule. Where would you choose?”
“Anywhere,” he groaned as hot blood pulsed into his flesh inside her, swelling him into thick steel. “You are ambrosia, kébé, no matter where.”
“Tell me where you’d like to bite me, Reule,” she invited him persistently with a sultry arching of her body, displaying her curves and his options.
“Here,” he growled dangerously, lowering his mouth to her throat until he was sucking her pounding pulse.
Then he shifted and took her left nipple deep in his mouth.
“I liked this so very much as well.” He reached to wet the tip of his finger, stroking it over the curve of her hip.
“But here would be so sweet. And then …” He insinuated his hand between their bodies and his fingers stroked over her sensitive nub. “What would you say if I chose here?”
“I don’t …” She caught her breath. “How? I don’t see how you could.”
“Ahh … well, it would require the artful use of this magical mouth of yours. You would drink as I would drink, kébé.”
The image flared into her imagination and she gasped with surprised fascination. “Oh! I’d like that! Please, let’s do that.”
Reule groaned with heartfelt fever over her enthusiasm. “Kébé, you’ll be the death of me.”
“I can think of worse ways to die.” She giggled.