The Devil's Match (The Devil DeVere #4)(36)

Though he thought she would fight it for as long as she could, Diana surprised him by arching in to him, wordlessly urging him to take more. He pulled a distended nipple into his mouth, biting lightly and then suckling hard until she cried out. A chuckle grew in his chest and erupted from his lungs. He drew back from her breast to slide her shift off to pool on the floor and then worked his mouth up her neck, murmuring hotly against her skin until he reached the hollow of her ear. “There’s no point in denying yourself the pleasure now, is there?”

“No. None at all.” She breathed on a sigh that he captured with his mouth. They played a breath-stealing game at first, but as their lips melded and tongues collided in that first tentative touch, the urgency flared. Moaning and clutching one another, their tongues tangled, gliding and sliding, growing in intensity to the rhythmic thrusting simulation of sex. He cupped her buttocks, drawing her closer. Their heated bodies, already slick with sweat, pressed together, his swollen shaft sliding deliciously against her hot, moist mons.

“Is there more you wished to show me?” he asked, sliding a hand between her legs and biting her shoulder.

“There was much more.” She moaned. “We did not finish your massage. Six times I am told to withhold your bo?alma to bring you a rapturous release. That was only one, Efendi.”

“You wish to bring me to brink again, Diana? To torment me with pleasure? Then it’s good we have time, isn’t it? For there are many things I yet wish to do to you.” He tongued down her neck back toward her breasts. “But if it is your desire to torture me, you possess the most devastating of devices for that purpose.”

“Oh?” She lifted a brow.

“God, yes.” He groaned and plied open-mouthed kisses to the tops of her breasts. “Since the first moment I laid eyes on you four years ago, I have fantasized about one exquisite torture.”

“And what is that?” she asked.

“This.” He took the weight of her voluptuous mounds in each hand and molded them tightly together. “I have dreamed of sliding my kam?? in this lovely, lush valley of yours...sheathing myself in their milky white softness.” He heard her breath hitch and watched her eyes widen with patent surprise.

“No conditions. No constraints?” she asked breathlessly.

He smiled. “Those were the terms of the wager, as I recall.”

She regarded him with a mix of surprise and something more. Curiosity? Desire? “How is such a thing even done?”

His pulse leaped at her implied acquiescence. He backed her slowly toward the table and gave her a wicked grin. “My dear odalisque, I would be most delighted to show you.”

***

He rolled two more towels to support her head and neck before lowering Diana onto her back. The marble table was hot and hard beneath her, but the anticipation of what he would do to her far outweighed her discomfort. His blue gaze flickered like a flame. The intensity of the look, rife with unspent passion, stole her breath away. This was what Salime had spoken of, the ability to cloud his mind of all but desire.

Ludovic retrieved the bottle of almond oil, coating hands and gliding them over her sensitive flesh. Diana moaned with bliss at the sensations he elicited deep in her sex as he rubbed her nipples between his fingers and smoothed the oil onto her chest until the mounds of her breasts were slick and glistening. He stood back only far enough to regard his handiwork, an air of fierce desire contorting his features. He was still semierect and growing harder and longer before her eyes.

She gazed in fascination at the proud purple head, now fully exposed to view by his circumcision. “Why did you do it?” she asked.

“I told you I had already considered conversion and then there arose the situation with Salime.”

“So you sacrificed your foreskin to save a damsel in distress?”

He shrugged. “It seemed a small sacrifice at the time.”

She reached out to him and stroked a finger along the underside of his shaft. It jumped in response. “What now, Efendi?” she inquired in a sultry voice and then circled her thumb over the bulbous head. His chest rose sharply, and his eyes fluttered. The feeling of power from that single, light touch made her giddy and filled her with an overwhelming desire to devastate him, to ravage him with pleasure so profound and unforgettable that it would haunt him...as he had once done to her.

He kissed her again, long and deep, his tongue thrusting hungrily into her mouth and then released her, joining her on the slab, straddling her hips with his muscular thighs. He guided her hands to her outer breasts and positioned his long and heavy shaft between them. “I want you to press them together, to sheath me and hold me between them.”

She complied, watching his head fall back with a groan as he pushed himself between the soft, slick mounds of her breasts. She tracked the motion of the purple crown of his sex as it advanced and receded from sight in slow and rhythmic strokes. His face was flushed, and his lids hooded, eyes grown dark with passion. She saw him steal a glance downward. His face drew taut with concentration; his pace quickened from long and languid glides to short, stabbing thrusts. His breathing ragged, he stared at her and at his thrusting shaft with a gaze drunk with lust.

With a sudden surge of daring, she stared back into his eyes and darted out her tongue, teasing the underside of his shaft with tantalizing little flicks in sync with his advance and retreat.

“Dear God Almighty.” He moaned.