“W-What kinds of things?” My voice was threadbare as I tried to concentrate on what he said. I knew it was important, although I couldn’t explain how or why I knew that. But if he was making a point to tell me, then I should probably pay attention.
“Things that are dangerous, things I don’t want you anywhere near.” He kept touching me, slow and easy, a torturous pleasure that also pissed me off because I wanted to come. “And as much as I’d rather cut my own balls off than leave you…” he groaned. “Fuck, I’d do that just to keep you by my side. I have to do this, or an all-out war will happen.”
I assumed this was supernatural, Otherworld stuff, but I wasn’t in the right mind frame to even comprehend any of this. And I had a feeling that’s why he figured now was the right time to tell me. Damn him for the distraction.
Or maybe I should thank him for wanting to further protect me, to want to keep me sheltered from even more crazy stuff.
But goddamn him and his skilled fingers, and the way he touched me like he knew exactly how to bring me right to the edge.
“So smooth, kitty.” The double entendre of his words had my toes curling. “How grateful are you that you waxed this cunt?” He ran the pad of his index finger over my pussy hole, gently pressed it inside, but retreated far too soon.
I moaned in disappointment, and he chuckled low.
“Oh God. So glad,” I shamelessly admitted just as he added pressure to my clit.
I’d never been more thankful for waxing. It had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with liking the smooth feeling. But all that was changing with the former.
It was very sexual now.
To be able to feel his big, thick fingers, the slight calluses that made him seem even more masculine lining the digits, had my pussy so soaked I knew if not for my pants, I’d be dripping onto the floor.
I was so sensitive that if he just rubbed my clit a few times, I’d explode for him, just become a puddled mess of want and need. Already my pussy was drenched, my inner thighs obscenely soaked. But I wasn’t embarrassed by my body’s reaction. I wanted more. I wanted to become unhinged.
I wanted him to fuck me.
“How many women have you done this to? Brought to your home, touched like this?” I had no idea why the words spilled from me at that exact moment and hated that I cared how he answered.
He didn’t speak for long seconds, just continued to stroke me, bringing me higher and higher to the precipice of going over the edge and then skating away, leaving me a quivering mess so he had me falling back to reality just to repeat the process over again.
I was sweating and panting, feeling like I ran a marathon when I’d just been standing here letting him expertly play my body. But at the forefront of my consciousness, I dreaded his answer. Jealousy waged war inside me at the very thought of caring about how many women he touched, pleasured. But I wanted his honesty more, even if it made me sick.
“It’s only been you, Kayla.” Before I could respond to that, he slowly pushed a finger into my body, my inner muscles instantly clenched around it. “It’ll only ever be you.”
I reached behind and grabbed onto his shirt to steady myself as he slowly started pumping his finger in and out of my pussy. I was making these embarrassing sounds of pleasure, but I couldn’t find it in myself to stop, already too far gone in my need.
It was hard to believe a man who looked like Adryan, who was so powerful and used to getting what he wanted, wouldn’t have ever touched another woman, implying that he was a… a virgin? But I supposed that was the least unbelievable thing out of this whole situation.
“That’s right, kitty,” he said low and right by my ear, still finger fucking me. “I’ve never even looked at another female with lust or need, let alone touched one. For one hundred and twenty years, I’ve been waiting for you.”
He added a second finger, really stretching me now, my pussy feeling so full that it was painful. And so good. A mewling noise left me when he pressed the heel of his hand to my clit and added pressure.
Oh yes. Oh yes, yes, yesyesyes.
I was soaring high, closer now to going over the edge than I’d been since we started this. I’d die if he stopped, and when I felt myself nearing the peak, I rose on my toes, started working myself on his hand, fucking myself, using him to get off.
He was growling wildly behind me, his hard cock like this massive steel rod digging against the center of my back. With my head still turned to the side, I wanted his kiss desperately, begging him silently for it. But he didn’t give that to me. No, instead his mouth was latched onto the side of my neck, and he sucked and sucked and sucked.