Aeromancist - The Beginning (Seven Forbidden Arts 2)

He moved one hand over her hip and slipped it under her dress. She gasped when he cupped her sex.

“Still sore?” he asked.

Her body came alive under his touch. She pushed harder against his hand, saying with a ragged breath, “I need you.”

His voice was husky. “How do you need me, krasavitsa?”

She frowned.

He kissed her lips. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need you to take me.”

He planted a kiss on the shell of her ear. “Mm. Take me is vague.” He kissed a tender path down her neck. “Sometimes women want men to make love to them, sometimes they just want to have sex, and sometimes they want to be fucked.”

“I just need you,” she whispered.

“How, krasavitsa? I could make it soft and sweet, or hard and fast. I could drench you in pleasure, until you beg me to stop, or I could be your slave, helpless in your hands. Tell me your fantasy.”

“I don’t have one.”

He leaned back to look at her. “If a man asks you your fantasy, tell him. If he’s a man, a real man, he’ll make it your reality.”

“What’s your fantasy, Lann?”

“To be the man you want in your body right now. For your pussy to ache for my cock, and my cock alone. I want to see your eyes go wide as I fuck you. I want my name on your beautiful lips as I make you come.”

Her heartbeat increased a hundred-fold. It hammered under his palm where it rested on her chest.

“You like it when I talk dirty to you, mm?”

She could only look at him, unable to utter a sound.

“You want it hard?”

God, yes. She moaned. The sound of fabric tearing registered in her lust-hazed mind.

“Like this?” he asked. “Is this what you need?”

He dropped her torn underwear to the floor. Yes. Yes, she wanted that, for him to take control. He did exactly that when he lifted his hips and unzipped his pants. The broad head of his cock nudged her slick folds. This was what she needed. Another moan confirmed it as he lifted her over his erection. All she could do, was grab the armrests as he lowered her, and, in the same instant, pushed up. He penetrated her hard and fast, just how she wanted.

With one thrust, he was buried inside her. When he starting moving, her clit rubbed with delicious friction against his pelvis. His cock stroked sensitive, abrased flesh, the pain driving her even higher. She cried out, already lost in the sensation of promised pleasure.

“Like this?” he asked.

She could hardly speak. “Y-yes. More.”

Instead of ramming up into her like she’d expected, he pushed her back with a hand between her breasts while keeping her steady with his hand on her waist, changing the angle of his penetration. She leaned back farther, feeling him even deeper. When he rotated his hips, she dug her nails into the leather of the chair. Her head rolled back. She couldn’t stop the needy sounds that fell from her lips. The burning eased until there was only ecstasy. The sensation was unbearable. Too slow.

“More, Lann. Fuck me. Now. I need you to take me hard.”

“That’s it, krasavitsa. Tell me what to give you.” He lifted her hands from the chair and placed them on his shoulders.

“Katherine.”

When she didn’t look at him, he repeated her name. She raised her head, battling to focus on him, on anything other than the release building inside her.

“I want to hear you say my name,” he said.

“Ah.” He was pushing her toward the edge, but too slowly. Why was he backing down? Why had he stopped moving?

“Katherine, can you do that for me?”

She blinked.

“Say my name, krasavitsa.”

Taking a shuddering breath, she said, “Lann.”

It came out as a whisper, but it pleased him, because he started moving again, not slowly, but hard, taking her with a force that had her, this time, screaming his name. He slammed up and at the same time forced her body down. She broke, came for him, and spent her passion as her inner muscles clenched and spasmed while he clung to her in turn, emptying himself deep inside her body.

It took a while to find her breath, and while she did, he held her in his arms with her cheek pressed against his neck. His hair fell around her face. She burrowed herself in his warmth and his scent, basking in the afterglow of her orgasm.

When both their bodies were relaxed, he kissed the top of her head, and lifted her to her feet. Picking up the shreds of her panties, he dropped them in the trashcan.

“There’s a bathroom in there if you need to freshen up.” He pointed at a door off to the side.

She looked down at her crumpled dress. Under it, his release trickled down her thighs. It felt personal. Intimate. She liked it.