10. Class is in Session
~ VOSKI ~
God, it was difficult to keep my hands off of her, to satisfy myself with dark gazes, and knowing smiles.
But it was fun to see her fluster. I made a game of leaning over her while I prepared food—instructing her when she didn’t know how cheese should be wrapped for storage—letting my body brush hers, or my hand slide across her ass before I reached for something on her other side.
Watching her cheeks pink, and her smile grow, then falter when I went back to the job at hand, was delightful. She was delightful. I could barely wait to get my hands on her properly.
But, I was nervous as well. The need for her had grown while we flew.
I’d tried to keep it at a simmer, reminding myself that she was new to sex, and needed time.
Even with Koa’s help in healing, even with bond pushing her forward, she was truly na?ve to the hunger.
The drive within me to consume her. I didn’t want to scare her.
But I wanted to eat her just as surely as the bread and cheese.
More.
I begged God to give me the control not to frighten her—and begged Kham to stop taunting me with his own smug reunion with his mate.
I needed to be measured. So, I tied a short leash on my desire and made us eat, and drink water, and clean up the food, before finally turning to her in the light of the candles.
But she was stunning—the soft, dim light from the candles making her hair glow, and her skin warm.
A surge of need slammed through me. Visions of all the ways I wanted to take her, of seeing her abandoned, arched, coiled, bent, stole my breath.
Caution sang in my chest, and instead of reaching for her, I made myself lean back against the table, giving her a moment, while I folded my arms to keep my hands off her.
Catching my gaze, Grace stood there in her leathers, staring back.
Adorably, when I didn’t speak—not trusting my voice not to gravel and sound angry, because it was ragged with need—she grew awkward.
First clasping her hands at her waist as she would in a gown, in a ballroom.
Then dropping them to her sides, her eyes flicking away, before looking at me again.
Her hands twitched, and then she folded her arms under her breasts in a reflection of my stance.
I smiled wider. When she was this close, and I paid attention, her feelings were open to me. I sensed her heat rising in the bond, felt that flip of need in her belly, right alongside the flutter of nerves.
I cocked my head, swallowing and trying to keep my voice light. “Do I make you nervous?” I asked her genuinely, cursing myself for the fact.
Grace shook her head, but the way she bit her lip made her a liar.
That was sobering. I unfolded my arms and gripped the edge of the table, curling my nails under the wood to hide the tension in me. “I don’t want you to ever be afraid of me, Grace.”
“I’m not,” she said quickly. “Unless you grow angry.”
God, that was a punch to the stomach.
“But it helps, being able to feel you,” she continued. “I can’t always tell, but I feel you right now. I like it.”
I went still. “What do you like?”
“You want me.”
“I do. Desperately.”
Her smile grew more sure. “Why can I feel you so much better now?”
I swallowed. “We completed the bond.”
“But, even now, sometimes I can feel you clearly—like now. And other times, not much at all. It’s foggy.”
I frowned. “It’s all new. We can work on it together while we’re here. But, I assume it’s similar to our bonds with the dragons. Proximity is important. The closer we are physically, the more clearly we can feel, and hear each other.”
Her eyes widened as she nodded. “I could hear you. When Gil was there. I heard you,” she said quietly. “But I couldn’t reach you. Koa said the bond is healing and it will grow. That soon I’ll be able to talk to you, too.”
Anticipation twirled in my guts. I nodded, then reached for her in the bond, testing. ‘That would be… perfect.’
Her eyes widened, then her brows pinched in concentration. ‘I… think so… as well.’
The words reached me as if across a long distance, dampened. Foggy was right. But it was a thrill to hear her at all. ‘I heard you!’
Her smile made the room brighter, as a wash of desire and thrill reached me through the bond.
‘Grace—’
‘I’m…’ she frowned again, but closed her eyes, her smile creeping back as she focused, and her voice strengthened in my head. ‘I want you… my mate.’
Those words, such a simple, blunt declaration, hit me like a blow to the solar-plexus.
Without thought, I pushed off the table and closed the space between us, taking her in my arms and devouring her mouth, reveling when she threw her arms around me and welcomed the kiss with such fervor, the surge within me was alarming.
Caution sang in my chest again, and I inhaled sharply, gripping her hair and keeping her there as I straightened, already panting.
“Why did you stop?” she whispered, blinking.
“Because…” I smiled, stroking fingers into her hair, but keeping a grip on her so she wouldn’t reach up for me. “I want to show you the particular pleasure of delayed gratification,” I said, my voice ragged.
Her pupils dilated. “I understand the words, but in this? You mean… waiting? I have waited, Voski—”
“No, no. Not that kind of waiting,” I rasped. Then I took her hands—which had made their way to my chest—and pulled them from me with a smile that promised everything she wanted and more. “Stand at attention, Flameborne,” I whispered, giving them back to her.
Her brows pinched and she tipped her head, but her eyes never left mine, and in the bond, I felt a rush of something more than simple need. Something warm, and humbling.
Trust?
It was startling, how quickly she gave herself up. I was stunned speechless as, without hesitation, she let go of my hands, dropped them to her sides, and straightened her spine, lifting her chin. Her eyes remained locked with mine. ‘What next?’
God, she was stunning.
I almost said to hell with it, and forgot about the lesson. My body lurched, my skin seeming ready to rise off my bones to get closer. But as I swayed, I blew out a breath, and smiled.
I would make this good for her. I’d reward my adventurous mate for her trust, and make her eager to give herself into my hands.
“You just stay there. Don’t move unless I tell you to do so,” I whispered.
She nodded and I stroked a finger to follow the line of her jaw, smiling when goosebumps rose on her neck. And then I began.
Soft touches, simple strokes to begin—curling fingers at the edge of her ear, scraping nails softly on her scalp, following the curve of her jaw, then her throat, then down to the neckline of her jacket—fingertips only—so that the pebbling skin began to dance ahead of my touch, and her breathing quickened.
Her jacket was open already, but I didn’t remove it. Leaning a hair closer, I popped the top button on her shirt, slowly pressing the linen aside with a single finger drawn just under her collarbones, then following the edge of the fabric down to the next.
One, by one, by one—always pressing the soft fabric out and away, like a slowly peeled fruit, swallowing hard when my fingers found the soft warmth of her breast. She shivered, and swayed closer, but didn’t move her feet, a line of frustration appearing on her brow when I didn’t quite reach the nipple before the fabric began to tug and I followed it down again.
Her ribs.
Her navel.
Until I met the buckle of her belt.
For a moment, I paused. The deep, narrowing V of the shirt, still tucked into her leathers, offered a stunning view from above—her collarbones in harsh relief as her chest rose and fell, quick and shallow.
The full rounds of her breasts—taut and pebbled, tightening the skin.
I knew her nipples would be hard and pointed, just out of sight, and the temptation to simply rip the shirt and jacket off and bare her shuddered through me.
But I tugged at that leash and held myself back.
“Voski—” she breathed.
“Don’t. Move.”
Using both hands, but slowly, gently, I unbuckled her belt and let the ends fall, then grasped the waistband and flicked that first button open, following the leather down to the next, then the next, until she was one quick tug away from being bare.
I leaned in, leaned over her, let my quickening breath wash against her lips.
Her chest rose faster, eyes glazed, and hooded. She began to sway closer, but just as our lips would have brushed, I smiled and sank into a crouch.
Her eyes widened as I trailed my fingers back up the leather fly to the waistband, dragging my fingers along the underside, my nails just brushing her belly. Then, when I reached her hips, I took hold of each side, and paused.
“Tell me what you want.” My voice was ragged. A dark gravel. I felt her suck in.
“You,” she whispered. And the bond, which was already glowing, flared with light.
Dear God.
I was forced to grasp her hips in the flats of my palms, gripping too tightly to stop myself merely stripping her bare and taking her on the spot. But I leaned forward and laid a kiss just under her navel.
She curled around me, her chin dropping, her hands diving into my hair, but I caught her wrists, then opened my mouth and delved her navel with the tip of my tongue. ‘I told you to stay still.’
‘I’m aching, Voski. You don’t have to go this slow.’
Smugly satisfied, I looked up at her, locking in on her wide eyes as I let my teeth graze her belly. ‘Oh, yes I do. And the next time you touch me, I’m going slower.’
With a whimper, she tugged her hands from my grip, but left them, shaking, at her sides. Her breath continued, quick and shallow, and she trembled.
Dropping one knee to the floor between her toes, I reached for my own jacket and began to undress—slowly. Leaning in, every few seconds to lay an open mouthed kiss on her stomach.
When her eyes dragged closed and her breath began to pant, I reached for her through the link again, gratified when her eyes flew open.
‘Keep watching me, or I’ll have to slow down further.’
Her eyes flew open. ‘Please don’t!’ Her expression dropping to tormented pleading when I shrugged my jacket off, then started on the shirt. With each slow reveal, she trembled, until, when I finally dropped the shirt to the ground behind me, her hands twitched at her sides.
‘I want to touch you,’ she whispered in my head, and there was a flash, an image, there for a blink, then gone, of her hands plunging into my hair and pulling me closer—
My breath rushed out of me.
‘Soon.’ But the incredible intimacy, the union of speaking in our minds, was suddenly cloying. I cleared my throat. “The beauty of this kind of delay is, your peak will be easier to reach,” I said in a hoarse croak, as I reached for my own belt and buttons.
Her round gaze dropped from my eyes, to where my hands worked, and her throat bobbed. “I don’t think it will be hard,” she said breathlessly.
“Oh, it’s hard,” I muttered, finally releasing my straining cock from the stricture of the leather.
She spluttered a laugh, but only for a moment.
It died in her throat as I returned to my feet, looming over her, trailing fingers up that beautiful slice of bare skin, until my fingers touched the undersides of her breasts, and for the first time, I allowed my hands to travel under her clothing to cup the weight, and tease those rivet-hard nipples with my thumbs.
She exhaled heavily, arching her back to press into that touch, her eyes dragging closed again.
“Eyes on me,” I growled, before I could catch myself and soften the tone.
But her beautiful blue eyes popped open again, flashing with need that was reflected in the bond, and locked on mine.
There was no fear in that gaze. Only eagerness.
“From this point on, you speak,” I instructed her quietly, trying desperately to keep my voice warm, despite the harsh gravel.
“You tell me if you like it. You tell me if you don’t. Do you understand?”
She nodded quickly.
“I always want to know what pleases you,” I rasped.
“You please me,” she breathed and dear God help me, I almost gave in and dove on her. Her breath caught as I leaned closer, but I caught myself. Cursing under my breath.
“That’s good,” I croaked. “But I need to know, always, what pleases you—and what doesn’t. Don’t hesitate.”
Grace nodded again, and I rewarded her, flicking both nipples with the calloused sides of my thumbs. She shivered. Her eyes glazed, but she stayed locked in.
And I kept her there as I began to undress her…