Ruby Shadows (Born to Darkness #3)(28)

I thought he would continue kissing me but then, to my surprise, Laish turned me gently in his arms so that my back was pressed to his front.

“It’s all right,” he murmured in my ear, running his big, warm hands up and down my shivering bare arms. “I won’t hurt you, Gwendolyn. I wish only to bring you pleasure.”


He was doing a pretty good job of it already, and he hadn’t even really touched any “sinful” areas yet. I bit my lip as his warm hands moved inward, caressing my belly and sliding up the thin silk dress to cup the under-curves of my breasts.

“You don’t know how much I wanted to do this as we were riding earlier,” Laish murmured in my ear. I had to bite back a moan as he cupped me more fully and rubbed over the hard bud of one nipple with his thumb.

“You…you did?” I asked, wishing my voice didn’t sound so breathless.

“Mmm-hmm.” His voice was a low growl of pleasure and I could feel something hot and hard poking against my lower back. Gently, he plucked at the other nipple, squeezing it between his thumb and finger. I gave a little cry as sparks of pain and pleasure shot through me, then bit my lip, trying to keep back the other sounds that wanted to come out.

“It’s all right, mon ange,” he murmured in my ear. “You can make noise if you need to. I like to hear it—like to know how I am affecting you.”

I wished desperately that I could say he wasn’t affecting me at all but Laish would have seen through my lie at once. It was obvious by the way my heart was pounding and my breathing was short and shallow that his hands on me made me react.

I didn’t know why I felt his touch so keenly. I had let other guys touch my breasts before—mostly back during my reckless, rebellious phase in high school—before I saw what happened to Keisha and decided I didn’t want to end up that way. Since every boy I ever fooled around with had to stop above the waist and couldn’t go any further, it never ended happily. But I had to admit, it had felt damn good while it lasted.

But no one had ever touched me the way Laish was touching me now. His hands on my body were gentle but incredibly possessive. He stroked over my flesh as though he owned me and intended to do exactly what he wanted with me—which was apparently to make me moan. Because I couldn’t help doing exactly that.

“Does this feel good, mon ange?” he murmured, pulling down the thin top of the dress to reveal my naked breasts.

I wanted to protest that we were in public, that we weren’t alone, that I couldn’t let him do that to me. But somehow nothing came out of my mouth but another moan as he touched me.

“Laish,” I gasped as he cupped my bare breasts, twisting both nipples at the same time and then letting them go and stroking them with feather light caresses.

“Yes, mon ange?” he growled softly in my ear, his breath hot against my sensitive skin. “Tell me, my little witch—after so many years of enforced virginity—are you hungry to be touched? Hungry for the feel of hands on your body?”

That, of course, was the real problem. I was hungry to be touched—so hungry that I didn’t even care that it was a demon who was doing the touching.

“Stop,” I whispered. “Stop, we…we must have paid the tax by now.”

“Not quite.” Suddenly one of his hands left my breasts and stroked down, sliding over my trembling abdomen and coming to stop between my thighs.

“Laish!” I protested, squeezing my legs closed as tightly as I could. I was already over stimulated down there from riding on the hard saddle. I was afraid if I let him start touching me when I was already so hot, I wouldn’t want him to stop.

“Relax, Gwendolyn,” he murmured. “I wish only to feel the heat of your sweet little cunt in my palm. I promised not to penetrate you and that is a promise I intend to keep.”

I didn’t want to—I told myself I didn’t, anyway—but somehow I found myself spreading my legs for him.

“That’s good. Good girl,” he growled softly. His large, warm hand slid down my leg and before I knew it, his long fingers were trailing under my dress and up my bare thigh.

I trembled against him, expecting to feel those fingers slide into my lacy panties at any moment. Instead, he simply cupped me, as he had promised he would, holding my * gently but firmly in the palm of his hand.

“Why, Gwendolyn,” he murmured, tracing the slit of my * delicately through the thin lace. “Your panties are positively soaked.”

I gasped and jumped at his light, teasing touch. “Laish, please…” I pleaded, uncertain what I was begging for.

“Please, what, mon ange?” His deep voice was filled with lust. “Do you wish me to touch you more, to slide my fingers past this flimsy barrier and fill your soft little cunt while you grind against my palm?”

“I…you shouldn’t,” I whispered breathlessly. But I kept feeling closer and closer to something I’d never felt before—some hidden peak that had always been denied me, no matter how I searched for it. “I shouldn’t want you to.”


“But you do, don’t you?” he insisted. “You want me to fill you, to penetrate your hot little cunt and f*ck you with my fingers until you come all over my hand. Come, Gwendolyn, admit it.”

“All right—fine,” I moaned, unable to help myself. “I…I admit it. I want you to.” The moment I said the words, I felt a ripple in the air around me—as though something vast and inimitable had somehow disappeared. The tiny part of my brain which was still capable of rational thought wondered what the hell it was. But most of me was still completely centered on Laish’s hand between my thighs. “Do it,” I begged him, shamelessly. “I want you to—I want you to touch me.” I was panting now, unable to catch my breath. “There,” I gasped. “I said it. Satisfied?”