“It's dark, Anais. I can barely see you. I'm just saying–”
Her claw found his lips. “Shh. Shut your pretty mouth, prince.”
“Mmm.” His tongue flicked the pad of her finger.
She smiled and bent to kiss his chest. Her lips brushed his abs. Lower. Another inch lower…
Castien
The shadows shifted. He couldn't see her.
Oh, but he could feel her. He closed his eyes and luxuriated in the flutter of her warm breath on his skin, her soft lips caressing the valley of his hips, even her claws raking down his chest. Roses infused her sheets and the air. He was surrounded by her.
Any other woman, and he'd hate her for daring to voice the idea. He needed control in the sheets – he never gave it. Except to her.
The scrape of her claws sent a thrill of fear through his entire body. He wanted – needed – the sharp pinpricks to dig deeper. Pain wasn't what he was after. Not exactly. He wanted the threat of pain. Yes, he needed the threat, the fear, the edge of possibility.
The wet strands of her hair brushed his thigh. Even that barely-there touch set his senses on fire. He was trained to hold back, to give all his attention to his partner’s pleasure. Bloodroared in his veins as her mouth slowly, agonizingly explored the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. He was very glad for his training.
When her lips and hands wrapped around the throbbing ache of his hard cock, he needed every ounce of control he'd earned over the years.
“Wait,” he hissed between clenched teeth.
The warmth of her mouth retreated. “Castien?”
Even though she spoke with concern, the husky note in her voice made him groan. “You're going to make me embarrass myself.”
She relaxed, huffing a single, soft laugh. “Just lie there and let me take care of you, my prince.”
Her tongue licked a long path up his shaft. He inhaled sharply. Prince. The ridiculous title normally annoyed him, but in that throaty tone while her lips closed over his cock – he didn't mind it. Not in the least. He might even like it.
She sucked and licked gently, slowly, her tongue swirling the tip of his cock. His ass flexed. Pulling back again, she asked, “Is this alright?”
He made a low noise. “Yes. Goddess, yes.”Don't stop. He had never begged her before. Had never begged anyone willingly before.
A soft snarl hissed out of her. “Don't bring that bitch into my bed.”
The hint of a predator made him smile. “I was referring to you, of course. You are my goddess, Anais, the only deity I'll ever worship.”
Mollified, she returned those lovely lips to his cock. Pleasure suffused his mind and body. There was something to be said for letting go of a bit of control. Just a little.
Almost subconsciously, his hips rolled with the thorough up and down motions of her head as she took him into hermouth and further into her throat. Her hands gripped his thigh and waist, her fingers curling, her claws almost cutting him. Almost. They would leave indents in his skin, reminders of her touch. Groaning, he arched into her mouth and flexed his thighs against her hands.
Her lips slid up and off his cock. “I miss this. The taste of you, the feel of you. I'll never have enough of you, Castien.”
Her tongue trailed up his pelvis and chest as she moved to straddle his hips. Darkness blurred her body. His fingers itched to caress the soft curves of her waist and breasts. He clamped down on that need, focused on the heat at the apex of her legs.
“Good,” he murmured, his voice coming out as a low rumble. “You have me. Take me. I'm yours, my Queen.”
Her pelvis shifted as she settled lower on top of him. Burning heat and slick, soft flesh met the nearly-painful length of his rigid cock. He locked his muscles into place.
The back of her fingers skimmed his chest. A claw traced a scar, and she seemed to contemplate something.
He had asked for a whip more than once. He wasn't sure if he wanted it today.
Her claw lifted. She had made a decision.
No whip.
