told no.”
“Maybe because you’re saying it a lot,” she grumbled.
“Sacrificial virgins don’t usually talk to me like this. You’re too bold for your own good.”
For that lie, she almost forgave his obstinance. Instead of trying to pull out of his grasp, she stepped toward him, closing her eyes to sense the heat and swirl of air between their bodies. She stopped right before she touched him.
“You make me bold,” she murmured.
He shifted his grasp, putting her hand behind her and bringing her snug against his body. She whimpered a little at the heavy thrust of his lower body against hers.
“Will you be good?” His breath whispered against her cheek.
She tilted her head to one side, exposing her neck. “No.”
He set his teeth against the column of her throat, and she swayed into him.
His growl was low, almost subliminal. “Then what will I do with you?”
“Everything,” she whispered.
He whirled her around, and for a moment she wasn’t sure which way she was facing—or even if she was still in the same place—until the mattress pressed against the backs of her thighs. The unexpected pressure almost made her fall, but he held her with that one arm braced at her back, her breasts straining upward toward him.
“I’m not a monster,” he said softly, “but I’m not a man either.”
“Dragon lord.” She leaned into the strength of his arm. “I know what you are.”
“You think you know what I am, but we’ll see.”
“We would if you’d turn the lights on,” she snipped.
He laughed, a rough sound, as if he didn’t do it enough, and let her fall.
The soft pillow top all but engulfed her, and then bumped her up again as his weight settled onto the mattress beside her.
Maybe there was more light than she’d thought coming from the chandelier because she could almost—almost but not quite—see his silhouette as he loomed over her. Or maybe that was her fevered imagination. She ached to reach for him, but he didn’t seem to want that.
And if he wanted to pleasure her… Well, she could wait a leeeettle bit longer to start exerting her newfound independence.
She spread her arms to either side and arched her back. It felt silly, but from the hitch in his breath, maybe those pornographic clips she’d watched were onto something. Plus, the silk tightened around her breasts in a way that felt good. She arched higher, squirming against the bind of the fabric. The silk pressed on her nipples.
“Esme…”
“Bale?”
“You aren’t wearing anything under the silk.”
“I don’t have to.” She’d meant that she’d never had the curves to require a bra, but the words sounded bratty and defiant, and she liked them, so she said them again. “I don’t have to if I don’t want to. Is there a problem here?”
“Oh, no. On this I agree with you with all my heart.”
His weight shifted. The mattress thrust her upward again. She realized he was straddling her, though with enough distance that she only felt the heat of his body and his presence, not his actual touch.
Until his tongue flicked across her pointed nipple.
A jolt went through her body, and she bucked upward with a cry, but he must’ve known what she was going to do even before she did it because he drew back at the same pace. And his tongue flickered and teased the whole time. Lightning surged across her nerve endings, hit a wall at the ends of her fingers and toes, and surged back toward her core, brighter and hotter.
She knotted her fingers in the bedspread, clutching tight to stop herself from reaching for him. His mouth trailed down the valley between her small breasts to the other peak and sucked again.
She cried out louder, and his wicked sound of amusement hummed through her. The silk grew wet and slick from his suckling tongue.
And between her legs, an answering damp heat arose.
“Bale…” She couldn’t stop herself now—she had to touch him…
“No.” He caught both her wrists in one hand and
“Maybe because you’re saying it a lot,” she grumbled.
“Sacrificial virgins don’t usually talk to me like this. You’re too bold for your own good.”
For that lie, she almost forgave his obstinance. Instead of trying to pull out of his grasp, she stepped toward him, closing her eyes to sense the heat and swirl of air between their bodies. She stopped right before she touched him.
“You make me bold,” she murmured.
He shifted his grasp, putting her hand behind her and bringing her snug against his body. She whimpered a little at the heavy thrust of his lower body against hers.
“Will you be good?” His breath whispered against her cheek.
She tilted her head to one side, exposing her neck. “No.”
He set his teeth against the column of her throat, and she swayed into him.
His growl was low, almost subliminal. “Then what will I do with you?”
“Everything,” she whispered.
He whirled her around, and for a moment she wasn’t sure which way she was facing—or even if she was still in the same place—until the mattress pressed against the backs of her thighs. The unexpected pressure almost made her fall, but he held her with that one arm braced at her back, her breasts straining upward toward him.
“I’m not a monster,” he said softly, “but I’m not a man either.”
“Dragon lord.” She leaned into the strength of his arm. “I know what you are.”
“You think you know what I am, but we’ll see.”
“We would if you’d turn the lights on,” she snipped.
He laughed, a rough sound, as if he didn’t do it enough, and let her fall.
The soft pillow top all but engulfed her, and then bumped her up again as his weight settled onto the mattress beside her.
Maybe there was more light than she’d thought coming from the chandelier because she could almost—almost but not quite—see his silhouette as he loomed over her. Or maybe that was her fevered imagination. She ached to reach for him, but he didn’t seem to want that.
And if he wanted to pleasure her… Well, she could wait a leeeettle bit longer to start exerting her newfound independence.
She spread her arms to either side and arched her back. It felt silly, but from the hitch in his breath, maybe those pornographic clips she’d watched were onto something. Plus, the silk tightened around her breasts in a way that felt good. She arched higher, squirming against the bind of the fabric. The silk pressed on her nipples.
“Esme…”
“Bale?”
“You aren’t wearing anything under the silk.”
“I don’t have to.” She’d meant that she’d never had the curves to require a bra, but the words sounded bratty and defiant, and she liked them, so she said them again. “I don’t have to if I don’t want to. Is there a problem here?”
“Oh, no. On this I agree with you with all my heart.”
His weight shifted. The mattress thrust her upward again. She realized he was straddling her, though with enough distance that she only felt the heat of his body and his presence, not his actual touch.
Until his tongue flicked across her pointed nipple.
A jolt went through her body, and she bucked upward with a cry, but he must’ve known what she was going to do even before she did it because he drew back at the same pace. And his tongue flickered and teased the whole time. Lightning surged across her nerve endings, hit a wall at the ends of her fingers and toes, and surged back toward her core, brighter and hotter.
She knotted her fingers in the bedspread, clutching tight to stop herself from reaching for him. His mouth trailed down the valley between her small breasts to the other peak and sucked again.
She cried out louder, and his wicked sound of amusement hummed through her. The silk grew wet and slick from his suckling tongue.
And between her legs, an answering damp heat arose.
“Bale…” She couldn’t stop herself now—she had to touch him…
“No.” He caught both her wrists in one hand and
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