She had nothing to say, he knew, because he was right. Stroking his hand down the shapely, slender length of her thigh, he told her, “Relax, my Sophie. Breathe deep. Enjoy yourself, and know that you are safe.”
Safe. Why had he felt the need to say those specific reassuring words to her, when he, of all people, knew just how unsafe they really were? Why was that the only answer to the vulnerability he saw in her eyes?
She resurrected something inside him, the kind of man he used to be, protective of and attentive to those he cared for. He wanted to shelter her, not because she asked for it or because she even needed it, but because he needed to be the one to give it to her.
There was something dangerous in that path of reasoning, some line in himself he had been determined not to cross, but he forgot what it was when she responded, relaxing visibly as he stroked her body in long, soothing sweeps with one hand. He slid down the length of her body, urged her to part her legs again, and when she did so, he settled between them and stroked the tender folds of her skin with a thumb.
Then he split the folds apart to reveal that little, delicate nubbin. She was beautiful there, as she was beautiful everywhere, the fluted folds of her flesh rich with color and her scent, warmth, and wetness. At the sight, he made a quiet sound of pleasure and put his mouth over her clitoris, tasting her private flesh for the first time.
Her thighs shook, and she made a thin, uncertain sound. Shh, he whispered in her head. Relax. Enjoy. You are the most delicious thing I have ever tasted. You’re beautiful. I want to plant myself in you, right here. Fill you up. Fuck you, make love to you, give you pleasure, make you scream.
As he talked to her, he suckled and flicked at her with his tongue, working her with a rhythm, while he slipped a single finger into her tight, wet sheath. She was so warm, so wet, so ready.
Lifting from his task, he told her, “When I was in town, I bought condoms.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You were already planning this?”
There was something complex in her expression, but he did not think it was distaste or dislike. Rather, she seemed to be pleased.
“I wasn’t planning on anything, but I had thoughts,” he said. “And I do not believe in being careless. I may be part Wyr, but I am not Wyr enough to have their ability to prevent pregnancy.”
“Nik, thank you for thinking so responsibly, but I’m part Djinn,” she whispered. “I don’t know how my ancestor managed to participate in a viable pregnancy, but however they did it, I don’t have that ability. I’ve seen more than one doctor to be sure, and they were conclusive. I can’t get pregnant.”
“Sophie,” he murmured. Placing a hand over her flat stomach, he paused to search her face for any sign of pain or sadness.
There was none. Her expression was clear, calm, and open. She smiled at him. “You don’t need to look at me that way,” she told him. “I love children, but I’ve known from an early age, I’m not cut out for motherhood. I’m not even good dog-owner material. Since the Elder Races don’t catch or transmit human diseases, we don’t need to use condoms.”
He smiled. “Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves. I’m not finished down here.”
Her breath caught as he turned his attention back to pleasuring her. Nestling his lips against the most sensitive part of her body, he soon found his rhythm again, flicking, nibbling and sucking until soon her hips bucked in response.
“That’s—that’s wonderful, but that’s enough,” she gasped. “It’s too sharp, too intense—”
Is that what happened to you, my Sophie? he purred in her head. Did your other lovers give up on you too soon? Were they greedy boys, focused only on themselves and their own needs without paying any attention to you and yours?
Yes. No. I don’t know! she gasped, her head turning restlessly on the pillow while her body shivered underneath his relentless attentions.
I am no green, foolish youth, he murmured. I know what you need and how to give it to you. Work with me, my Sophie. Don’t give up. Relax, trust, let me inside your head. You feel like wet, tight silk. You taste like sex. You are the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. My cock aches for you. My body aches for you.
While he talked, he slipped a second finger, massaging her gently inside. Her pleasure was building higher again. He could feel it in the escalating heat in her body, the tightness of her muscles, the way her hands shook as she stroked his hair. Nothing else existed in the world, just her body, her pleasure, the sound of her ragged breathing, and the exquisite torment on her face.
She began to plead. “Nikolas—Nik—it’s on the other side of this wall, I just don’t know how to get there—”
You don’t have to get anywhere, he whispered. Ease up, my Sophie. Let it come to you. I will bring it to you. I promise. Trust me. And when I bring it to you, I am going to come inside you. I’m so hard and ready for you. My skin burns with it. Feel the heat coming off my skin. I am on fire for you.
She touched his face, and he knew she could feel it. He had never burned so hot for anyone before. She lifted her head to stare at him.
Their eyes met. Nikolas touched the cool, starlit magic in her gaze with the dark blaze in his own. There was some kind of message that passed between them, some kind of truth.
Then her head fell back onto the pillow, and she cried out as she climaxed. He felt it ripple through her inner muscles. Her tiny, delectable clit pulsed. Fierce emotion roared through him.
He had given that to her, no one else, and in giving it, her climax became his. He claimed her pleasure, owned her response in that moment.
Mine, he thought. Mine.
He forced himself to wait, wait, wait, until the rhythm of her pleasure began to subside. Only then did he rise up to cover her body with his and unleash his own need. Kissing her, biting at her mouth, he took his cock and rubbed it against her entrance.
Reaching down between their bodies, she welcomed him and helped to guide him in. Then he slipped in, just the tip, and as he broke through her entrance and felt her body grip his most sensitive place, a groan broke out of him. Unable to move forward, unable to pull away, he froze.
She whispered, “What is it?”
“I’m back in that place again,” he said between his teeth, resting his forehead on hers. “I don’t know if I can be gentle any longer.”
She laughed, and it was a completely joyous sound, as she threw her arms around his neck, her legs around his hips and hugged him with her whole body. Putting her lips to his ear, she gasped, “You need to go, let’s go. Do it, Nikolas, cut loose, I want you to fuck me so hard right now.”
She incited him to riot, and he had no brakes, no barriers left, so riot he did.
The fire in his body took over. He plunged into her, all the way, to the hilt, and she was so hot, so tight, just exactly what he needed, he had to pull out and plunge all the way back in again. She met him thrust for thrust, rocking up with her hips as he hammered down, and it was so damned perfect he didn’t know how he could ever stop. Gripping her by the hip, by the breast, swearing in her ear, he fucked her while the blaze inside him built and built until it peaked in a fiery gush.
His climax roared up the base of his spine. Helpless in the grip of it, he thrust and thrust again with every new spurt. She ran her hands down his back, holding him to her, rocking with him until the rhythmic jerk of his cock began to subside.
Either he was shaking, or she was. His lungs pumped hard like bellows, while she stroked his back, his shoulders, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck until finally his climax began to subside.