War Bride (Battle Born #7)(36)
She guided his hands back to his sides, then separated the front of his shirt with two firm tugs. He shrugged out of the garment, but didn’t try to touch her. He’d tied her up and held her down each time his passion flared. She deserved this small revenge and a whole lot more. Her small, warm hands moved over his chest and down his arms, pausing to explore each muscle and tendon. Her obvious interest thrilled him, each throaty murmur stoking his flames a little higher.
Crimson fire lit her phitons by the time she unfastened the front of his pants. She’d yet to remove his boots, but she seemed much more interested in his arousal than ridding him of his clothing. Her bold touch swept over his erection once and a shudder of need shook through him. Not wanting the potential tangle to restrict his movements later, he stepped back and quickly pulled off his boots. Then he returned to his original position and waited for her next move.
Lightly grasping his shoulders, she turned his back toward the bed then tugged his pants to his knees before pushing him down on the edge of the mattress. Being maneuvered by a female was such a novelty that he chuckled. Then she bent over and grabbed the hem of his pants, ridding him of the garment with one firm tug.
Her gaze narrowed as she looked over his naked body. Enjoying her attention, he leaned slightly back on his hands and boldly spread his thighs. The pose was blatantly sexual and undeniably male. He started to ask if she liked what she saw, but bit back the words. She’d asked him not to speak and he wanted to give her what she’d requested without hesitation or reserve. She was his morautu and it was his fervent wish to satisfy her every desire.
“You are a feast for the eyes,” she whispered, disregarding her own rule. “I’ve wanted to do this ever since I first dreamed about you.”
Dreams had brought them together and joining with her in a dream had made it impossible for him to let her go. “I’m yours,” he whispered. “Do whatever you like with me.”
She stepped between his legs and took his face between her hands. “I’m not sure how this will work. Our love is forbidden on either of our worlds, but I’m willing to figure it out together.”
Their love? The phrase slammed into him like a fist. Did he dare believe that she loved him?
Her lips pressed against his before he composed himself enough to speak. She tilted her head, fitting her mouth more securely over his. Her tongue teased his lips, obviously asking for entrance. He opened for her, ready to risk his heart for the tiniest chance at true happiness.
It felt oddly invigorating to let her control the kiss. He kept his hands behind him and let her have her way. Her lips slid and her tongue wandered, encouraging him to respond. He curled his tongue around hers and followed her retreat until his tongue was in her mouth.
Dominance surged and he fisted the bedding, fighting to remain passive. She needed this, which meant he needed to give it to her, regardless of how alien it felt.
She broke away from his mouth with a little gasp, then kissed her way down his neck. Her hands paved the way for her lips. She wandered across his shoulder then onto his chest as she slipped to her knees beside the bed. Her hands settled on his hips while her mouth teased his abdomen, or actually teased his cock by lingering over his abdomen.
He’d imagined her doing this for him more times than he could count. His shaft bucked, lifting off his abdomen as if to draw her attention. Though the movement had been spontaneous, mostly, her fingers curved around his aching flesh. Her mouth, however, continued its leisurely trek across his belly.
Please. The word echoed through his mind, though pride alone kept him from speaking.
She looked up at him and smiled, feminine power gleaming in her eyes. “Is something wrong? You sound like you’re in pain.”
He narrowed his gaze and pushed one hand into her unbound hair. “You know what happens when you challenge me.”
Her smile faltered and her hand began to stroke. “Not yet. I want to feel you lose control before you take it back.”
“Then get on with it,” he growled out the directive. “I need you too badly to wait.”
She bent her head and licked his tip, her gaze still locked with his. “Better?”
He arched his hips, pushing between her silken lips. “Now it’s better.”
Clearly understanding that her time at the helm was limited, she stopped toying with him. Instead her lips formed a firm circle and slid down his shaft until he was deeply imbedded in her mouth. He threw his head back and groaned. It felt so damn good. It was all he could do not to end it right there and then.
Her lips slid back up while her hand returned to stroke him. The two together were sheer ecstasy. Her head bobbed and her tongue swirled, building his already blazing desire. She knelt before him, selflessly pleasuring him with her mouth. He’d begun to wonder if this day would ever come, if he’d ever experience her freely offered passion.
Exhilarated by her gift, he concentrated on the steady slide of her lips and the arousing patterns her tongue created over and around his most sensitive areas. They had waited so long, and he wanted her so badly, he knew it wouldn’t last long. Still, he wanted to savor every moment, every sensation.
Suddenly warmth and affection flowed into his mind, faint at first like the echo of emotion rather than the actual feeling. He shivered. This wasn’t him. His emotions—when he allowed himself to acknowledge them—were more intense, more consuming. Already their mental link was expanding, evolving into something stronger and more interactive.